The Washing Machine

I did some laundry this morning and when I opened up the door, the clothes were still in a puddle of water.  I was some concerned, but not a lot concerned.  I just turned the washer on the drain/spin cycle to try to get the water out.  Once that was done I opened the door and out of my front loading washer a river of water spewed forth.  It was like in the movies, except there weren't any suds.  I quickly closed the door and set about cleaning up gallons of water off of the floor.  I didn't know what to do since there was still a lot of water in the washer.  Normally, I'd call the Big Guy and see what kind of sage advice he might have and hope he might say, "Ok, I'll be right over," but since he's in Quartsite, AZ I didn't even think I should bother him with a problem he couldn't solve.  So I did the next best thing and called Bill, who said what he typically says, "Why don't you try the handymen?"  I cancelled my walk, left a message for the handymen and tried various methods of cleaning up the mess and trying to get the water out of the washer without more water flooding the floor.  None of my methods could be described as successful, as evidenced by the swollen floor boards.

The handymen came over and, of course, the water drained right out.  And when we ran first cycle it drained just fine.  They are nice guys and the swollen floor boards were proof that I was not making shit up and they did some research on the Internet and next thing I knew they had the front off the washing machine and a part disassembled and said, "You gotta come see this."  I was afraid it was going to be a dead mouse.  It wasn't.  There were at least 20 bobby pins stuck in this thing that has something to do with blah blah blah and somehow also has to do with the water draining properly.  I cleaned out all of the foul smelling junk and then they put the washer back together and now my washing machine is working like new.  I'm going to run out of laundry soap doing so much laundry today.

What a day though; this machine caused me to miss my walk and going to the movies with Sara and Jessica and made my back hurt from trying to clean stuff up.  I'm going to take a 1/2 a pain pill and spend the rest of the afternoon on the couch reading or watching dumb television.

I feel like this past week has been one calamity after another.  There's only one thing that's going to make me feel better: brilliant violence à la Jack Reacher.

Baby's First Book Club!

Max had his very first book club meeting Friday.  He was allowed to attend even though he hadn't finished reading the book.  I was hosting book club and pretty certain I had not one of the mom skills required to be able to finish getting ready for a dinner party for eight, and manage Max, I had to call in some help and my friend Shannon came over early and helped me figure out what the fuck I was doing.  Preparations included putting the baby in the kitchen and having him help me pull out wine glasses and then involved two amateur moves on the changing table (washing machine.)  First, I put the poopy diaper within the reach of the baby and when I grabbed that out of his hand, he picked up the mallet that was laying on the other side.  I'm not done watching all the Youtube videos about babies, but I'm pretty sure having a mallet on the changing table (washing machine) is generally discouraged.  

Toys- check.  Bowl- check.

Enjoying lively book discussion.

Max was very good and won the hearts of all the ladies in book club.  And the ladies in book club had much sympathy for my impromptu single mom status and did many of the dishes and moved the pac n' play in my room so Max and I could enjoy our first sleepover.  Max, stimulated by conversation and being the Bright Center of the Universe was not so interested in sleep after his evening power nap and we were up for a while.  First, we watched youtube videos about sterilizing bottles and took some pictures of ourselves.  Then we sterilized bottles.  Or I sterilized bottles and he scooted around on the floor in the kitchen and did not lick the floor at any time. 

Eventually Mr. Sandman came and I put Max in the pac 'n play and then Mr. Sandman socked Max on the head and he woke up and decided he still didn't want to have anything to do with the pac n' play and so because he is not mine and because he certainly wasn't pushing anyone out of my bed, the dogs having been banishèd to the backyard, I put Max in the bed with me, where he promptly went to sleep and I promptly went through all of the ways he would die in my bed:  suffocate in the covers, I roll over on him, Randi breaks open the window and jumps on top of him, the fan comes unhinged and falls on top of us.  I didn't sleep so great because I was sure something was going to happen.  We were warm and toasty because that guy is a mini-heater.  When we woke up at 7:30am, this guy immediately began inspecting the quilts on my bed.  I believe he was about to say, "Yes, excuse me, I do not believe that I am authorized to sleep under this quilt as it was not made for me with love by my grandma."  Lucky for me, I had a quilt my mom had made for me on the bed as well, so I just pulled it up and, mollified by quilting he recognized, he stopped acting like he was too good for my bed.

Little Boy in my bed.

The morning was taken up with mundane baby activities:  sanitizing more bottles, boiling water, breakfast of sweet potatoes, face planting into the floor, bottles, face planting into the orange bowl in the previous photo and an insane tantrum when I tried to take a shower.  Then we had to go to my mom's house for clothes, more food and to load up all of his accoutrements to go to Quartsite, AZ via Agua Caliente Casino Resort.  Again, lucky for me the guy slept the entire way to Agua Caliente Casino and woke up smiles and happy boy when he saw his grandma and grandpa.  

Then I came home and took a half a pain pill and drank a bottle of wine.

FAIL

Migration

Subtitled: The God Damned Duck

I got to sleep in this morning.  I thought my day was going to be pretty good.  I got up at 5:30am, took a shower, cleaned up, prepared the living room for book club tomorrow and I was warming up the car to leave for my meeting when I went outside to feed the duck.  When I shut the door, I witnessed, with my own two eyes, the damn duck take god damned fucking flight at least five feet off of the ground all the way over the fence to keep her out of the garden and to the fence that separates her from being duck confit pour les chiens.  I'm talking about fucking migrating duck flight pattern; not a little hop.  I screamed.  And by screamed, I mean I screeched at the top of my lungs the whole time she was in the air, scared to death that she was going to fly into the other yard; scared to death that she was flying so high and wondering how the fuck I was going to catch the duck.  Then, I did the only thing I could, trembling with fear and adrenaline:  I shut off the truck, grabbed the scissors and went out to catch my duck for a double wing clip.

Even not recovering from surgery, catching a duck is tough business because they are wily and generally unwilling to be caught and I was also fearful that she would fly into the Big Backyard, or heaven forbid the neighbor's yard and I would have to walk over and say to the neighbors at 7:00am, "Excuse me can I please get in your yard to try to catch my duck?"  I quickly formulated a plan in which I would use the purple stripped beach towel in a matador like fashion to corral her in a corner where she would be unable to run or fly away.  She quickly formulated a plan to evade my purple stripped beach towel.  We tangled and did ring around the rosey by the tree and her duck house, but I was damn determined to catch her so that she would not kill herself by flying into the Big Backyard.  And finally I prevailed and snatched her up on the patio and cut both her wings.  It was difficult because I was shaking so badly from fright.  I clipped both her wings and she tried to wiggle away.  Then I put her down, but thought that I hadn't cut them enough, so I snatched her back up before her pea sized brain knew what was happening and clipped them some more.  When I put her back down again, I realized that I probably could have clipped closer, so I tried to catch her a third time, but it wasn't successful.

Because of the unexpected wing cut, I had to hurry to leave so as not to be late for my meeting, and I quickly directed the dogs not to eat the duck and then I did what I always do in these situations: I called the Big Guy and said, "Dad the god damned duck..." and he did what he always does which is not really listen to me.  He did say maybe she was trying to fly south for the winter, but that's just dumb because south of the Little Backyard is the Big Backyard and I told him as much and I also told him that I might not go over there because if I got home and the duck was dead I was going to be pretty upset.  He said, "Ok, well, we'll be here."  Clearly, our definitions of emergency and panic differ greatly.

The result of all this activity?  One duck that is still alive and me stuck on the couch in a drug induced semi-stupor.

God damned duck.

Approximate trajectory of the duck's flight.

The god damned duck with a new wing clip

Sometimes the light bothers him while he sleeps.

Ab Workout

Well, I had my first real physical therapy appointment today and I am sore.  First, I did an ab workout that consisted of the tens machine stimulating my abs and back while I contracted my abs.  Then I pumped it up by doing the same thing while holding a ball.  After I did some leg stretches to length my hamstrings.  Then the guy said he wanted me to do ten minutes on the treadmill and I said, "Uh, how about the elliptical machine because ten minutes on the treadmill ain't even worth me changing my bra."  Ten minutes, schwen minutes.   I was doing that six months ago.  He asked what would happen if I did ten minutes.  I thought, "Duh, I'd be bored."  I'll do an hour.  No problem.  So I got on the elliptical machine for 10 minutes and I got tired.  And now I'm sore.  But a good sore- I think.  In any case, I'm trying Sara's homemade remedy for muscle soreness:  red wine.

The Hallway Paranoia

It is true that I've had the camera nearby for the past week, because I had noticed an increase in the frequency in which the hallway menaced Earl- particularly in the early morning and was trying desperately to get it on tape.  Because this is what happens when your dog smokes too much pot.  Paranoia.

First, Brave Earl goes between the bedroom and the bathroom.

Then, he attempts to make it across the long divide, into the sanctuary of the living room.  He's pretty sure it can be done because Clark, Randi and myself are in the living room, unharmed, having already crossed the treacherous Bermuda Triangle made up of the wall heater and two sides of the wall.  He is able to make it, despite the invisible hands of death reaching out and trying to grasp him.  

PT

Well, today was my long awaited physical therapy appointment!  It was pretty exciting, particularly since I was so sore and tired today that I could hardly move at school and had to have kids erase the boards for me.  The physical therapist asked me a lot of questions and did a bunch of assessments and said that my hamstrings are very tight and my thighs are very tight and my sides are very tight and none o that is good for my back, but that overall I was doing good.   He asked what would happen if I walked for an hour and I looked at him and said, "Uh, duh, nothing.  An hour's nothing.  I'll walk 3.62 miles on the treadmill in an hour; but not today.  Today I'm going to take a pain pill."  I have to go to physical therapy twice a week for four weeks and then I will be limber and svelte.

Until then, I'm going to take a pain pill because I really am sore.

Big Cats

I was perusing National Geographic Interactive when I got to the article about Big Cats.  Randi didn't mind the lion or leopard, but she was not having it once I got to the snow leopard.  If you listen closely you can hear Earl finally get up.  I guess the good thing is I don't have to ever worry about being attacked by a snow leopard.

Same old...

It's been a rough morning here at the Saratoga Animal Shelter.  The Quick Wash cycle that should take 28 minutes took over an hour.  The dryer seems to be equally slow;  like I'm not sure my clothes are going to be dry for my walk.  Additionally, it seems that the hallway has been particularly agressive and Earl has been wallowing in a self-quarantine in the bedroom for over an hour after the second time the hallway nearly ate him alive.

Proof that I am not as smart as my pot-smoking dog, Earl:

1.  Thursday, Earl at a half a tub of sour cream off the counter.  I had only walked into the other room to turn the radio down.

2.  Friday, Earl ate a tupperware container full of red sauce.  Not only did he take it off the counter, splashing red sauce all over the kitchen floor, counters and baseboards, but then he took the container into the living room and put it on the couch so he could have better access.

Randi helps me clean sauce off of the counters and baseboards.

Wrong Number

I had to cancel my long sought after physical therapy appointment today because every time I bend my head starts pounding.  Then I called my dad.  Voici our conversation:

Me: Dad? Dad?
Line:
Me:  Dad?  Geez, will you stop letting the baby answer the phone?
(calling back)
Me:  How are you?
Dad:  Uh, ok.  How are you?
Me:  Well I had to cancel my physical therapy appointment and I'm working right now then I'm going to take a nap.  What are you doing?
Dad:  I'm sitting here with the baby, but I think you might have the wrong number.  Who are you trying to reach?
Me:  DAD!!!

This guy didn't know who I was because of my voice.  He said at first he thought I was Giovanni, then he thought that I was some old lady that had dialed the wrong number.  He wasn't sure, but he was confusèd.

Yep, my voice sounds so shitty even my own father didn't know who I was.

Fun with Photos

There's not much going on here today except I got a cold and so I couldn't spend the afternoon with the baby since I am full of infectious mucus, so I spent most of the day laying on the couch and working on trying to figure out my camera.  I dutifully kept the instruction manual in Spanish, so that's been super helpful.  This week's photo challenge is "macro" so I used the dogs as subjects because they were sleeping and still.  Clark's not in them because he never came out of the bedroom, while these two wanted to be in the living room with me and the fire.  Incidentally, I got a letter from the Town of Apple Valley saying that their licenses were due to be renewed and a post card from the vet reminding me that they needed to come in for their rabies shots.  Yesterday I said to the Big Guy, "Dad, I need you to help me with two activities."  When I explained about the vet, he sighed and said, "That's not an activity, that's an event."  Semantics, because I surely can't get these two to the vet solo.

Randi- sleeping upside down as she likes

Concerned Earl

High as a Kite

Ms. Not Responding to the "If You Fly, You Die" campaign.

Crossed hands

There were two days at work this week where I wanted to burst into violent tears and cry until I exploded as a speck of dehydrated dust all over my classroom, leaving it empty and students to wonder why there was dirt on their desks.  So Friday, the second day, when my dad asked if I would watch Max so they could go to dinner I said, "YES!  Bring him over!"  I was pretty sure Max wasn't going to ask me to do anything other than play with him and change his diaper.  Then Jessica wanted to watch my TV and Sara wasn't busy so the three of us watched Max.   Max was not his normal happy self and was a bit fussy until Grandma came back and then he was all smiles.   Sometimes, I'm jealous.  He is 19 lbs and the doctor said that he looks like a normal 8 month old baby.  (Because he's awesome.)  Yesterday when I was over there I finally got a glimpse of his two bottom teeth because he was being pretty shy about showing them off.

The Big Guy, the Little Guy and Jessica

Internal Memo

To:  All members of the Saratoga Animal Shelter

From:  The Shelter Director

RE:  Recent Flights and Safety Concerns

The Saratoga Animal Shelter has launched today a new safety campaign designed to keep members alive.  The campaign centers around the slogan "If You Fly, You Die." Recent incidents have indicated that some members do not realize the risk they take when taking flight.  From now on, members are urged to repeat the slogan, "If You Fly, You Die," and ask themselves if they may be going to participate in an event that could be considered flying.  If the answer is yes, members are requested to quit the activity in question immediately and return to a concrete structure.  At no point should a member's feet or pattes be off of the ground.  Any member who finds himself unsure if his or her activity could be considered flying, will be able to consult the "If You Fly, You Die" poster, coffee mugs and t-shirts that will be distributed as part of the campaign blitz.  These materials will be distributed at the next Board of Directors meeting.

Thank you for your prompt attention to these matters and remember, "If You Fly, You Die."

That in Which the Hapless Heroine Gets a Physical Therapy Appointment

What?  It's only six months from my surgery, but I gots me a physical therapy appointment on Monday!  Woot, woot!  I'm not feeling too too confident, due the conversations I have had with the physical therapist's office, which, in two conversations did not inspire confidence, but I'm ready.  In fact today I feel pretty damn good.  I walked around and did, what I would consider, mostly normal stuff and right now I'm only in my pajamas because my bra decided to have its wire poke through only three minutes after I left the house and so I spent all day trying not to be in pain and I couldn't fathom putting on a second set of clothing once I got home.  I just went straight to PJs.

In other news- this morning Gretchen and I were treated with a great view of the moon from her classroom window.  By the time I grabbed the camera the moon had moved a bunch so the pictures doesn't really represent the lunar beauty we saw.

Also, since the pink room has more room, this has aided the dogs and now all three of them can be in the room with me while I work.

Photo 366

One of my other New Year's Resolutions was to do a photo a day challenge.  I looked around on the Internet and found a site which offered some different themes for each week, but they were for 2011 and I had to tweak them a bit.  The first week's theme was newness and this week's theme is breakfast.  I'm positing the photos on a separate blog Photo 366 only because I'm confident someone else will want to participate as well and we can post our pictures together.  So far, I would not call my photos very artistic, but I've got another 359 days to practice!  I made a Google calendar with all the themes, so if you want to participate let me know and I'll e-mail them to you.

http://2012photo366.blogspot.com/


In other news, I set up my computer on my new desk this morning.  So far it's pretty awesome, though I can't get the right bottom drawer open.  I'm slowly working on getting the room cleaned out so that I can start moving the sewing stuff in here.  It's going to take forever, because I can do about 10-15 minutes and then I have to lay down.

Je suis fini

Yesterday Earl decided he couldn't take it anymore and hid himself behind the pillows.

Sigh....

When I got to school today I discovered that my school laptop had been stolen out of my classroom last night- sometime after 5:05pm when I left.  I knew immediately when I walked in the room that it was gone, but I came home to make sure I hadn't lost my mind.  I knew I hadn't because I was too sore yesterday to carry the laptop home and also I had bought a new purse on Tuesday to put it in and my purse did not have my laptop in it.  I'm pretty careful about keeping my work and personal computing separate, but my brand new DVD of Astérix Chez les Bretons was in there!  And all of my French music!    My French music!!  Sigh.  Turns out my laptop wasn't the only thing stolen from the area and the total now is about over $3000 worth of stuff.  Since it was the school's I'll probably get to order a new one from the insurance, but that's a pretty expensive upgrade to Lion.

Under Construction

I had to go to Jury Duty today.  I was pretty excited about it because it was such an opportunity to people watch.  The lady behind me in line had brought a date and the person in front of me had brought a baby.   Once we got into the court room, I had to throw out the Big Guy's name and the fact that I had put together the "How to Pick a Winning Jury" powerpoint presentation for last year's state bar convention and now I am no longer on the jury because I could not, in good conscious, be part of that.

The Saratoga Animal Shelter is currently undergoing a series of changes and cosmetic improvements.  I am in the process of relocating the sewing room to the pink room (slightly larger) and moving the Max/Toy Repository/Guest room to the yellow room.  This is going to be a long process because I want some new furniture, like an actual desk where I can place my pencils and also I can't really move more than a box at a time.  After Jury Duty I went to the Salvation Army to see if I could find a desk.  I didn't find a desk, but I did find four chairs.  It was love at first sight, but at $60 a piece I was reluctant.  In an atypical fashion, I asked the girl if only certain things were 50% off and she said she could give me the chairs at $30 each.  She promptly loaded them up and then Super Sara came over and took them out.  It solved several problems because I was able to move the bench to the hallway and use it as a place to put quilts.  I am so excited!  I am going to recover the chairs.  (Ok, to be fair, my mom will help me recover the chairs.)  First, I'm going to try some upholstery cleaner because they look pretty good already and they are super comfy!!

Resolutions

Mad home skills

I had quite the day today.  I was Betty Freaking Cocker this morning and at one point I was making waffles, cooking soup, vegetable stock and chicken and doing laundry all at the same time.  That's some hardcore domesticity right there.  In the process of plugging in the waffle maker, the was a spark, then fire and then smoke that came out of one of the electrical sockets in the kitchen.  Normally, this would cause me to panic and possibly cry, but I wasn't worried since the handymen were going to come over.  They looked at it and said it was fine, but they fixed three other electrical outlets that needed some attention.  They also put in a new light over the dining room table.  This one is stylish and exponentially less obnoxious than the other one.

My New Year's Resolutions are pretty simple: drink more water, watch less TV and listen to more French.  I have to spend some quality time listening to French because I feel sometimes like the only French I speak anymore is French I.  Therefore, I have resolved to listen to France Info when I get home and am preparing diner or when I'm at school when I normally would be listening to Miranda Lambert.  And let me tell you how glad I did this today because right when I turned on France Info there was a report, swear to God, about how you can reserve hotel rooms in Paris for just two hours in the afternoon, you know for a little, something something with the person you aren't married to.  The guy in the report said matter of factly,  "Well, you know, some people don't want to go to the office or the car."  The lady running one of the hotels (three stars) said that for her it was easy because she was a nicer hotel and she had the cleaning staff who could refaire la chambre right after the lover's tryst.  Let me tell you that this information is not information that is in any textbook I've ever used and I'm going to file it away in case I'm ever cheating on someone with a Frenchman in Paris.  Mostly I'm just concerned about other cultural tidbits I have been missing.

I also watched Max today.  It was a bit rough because he did not want to sleep anywhere but on top of me and the handymen were here and also the duck was a bit rude with him.  I took Max out to look at the duck and I believe this was the conversation:

Duck:  Your grandma dresses you funny and you are not the bright center of the universe.

Max:  (WAIL! SCREAM! CRY! SERIOUS TEARS!)

Seriously, I had to tell Max that I wouldn't let the duck talk to him like that again and that I was going to kick her ass when he left and that she was a mean duck and that she didn't mean it and he shouldn't believe what she says because his grandma doesn't dress him funny and he is the bright center of the universe.  Then we went inside and played and listened to France Info.  Best part is I watched that guy from 10-5 and I don't even need to take a pain pill!