For the last two weeks life has consisted of a series of busy nothings, as that tart Jane Austen liked to say. Lots of little chores snowballing into more than half of July gone. All of them about as interesting as Fordyce's Sermons. (Google's auto search gives some interesting image results for Fordyce...not safe for work results. That was a warm little diversion.)
Let's pull some minutia out, shall we?
It's worth a year of wait to get fourth of July food made under a tent at our city park after our fifteen minute parade. I picked up a plate of excellent tacos with a good portion of chopped tripe included. God bless the USA, even down to the innards of our swine. Was it republican swine or democrat? Dunno. Pork barrell is pork barrell.
Family reunions are all the more entertaining when you tape the paper covers on the picnic tables properly. Wrapping tables to hide all the etchings of filthy words and penises is an art form. Drawing your own filthy words and penises on the paper to make up for what you covered doesn't count.
My mother in law is ill and recovering from infection and a blood clot in the hospital. I love her.
I went to a hair salon as a walk in and a half hour later I'd donated sixteen inches to Locks of Love. Hairdressers salivate when they see me in their chair. This is the third time I've donated hair and probably the last. When she asked me what products I used on my hair I had to suppress spouting, "I'm a Dapper Dan man!"
My oldest son took off to a four day long leadership camp very early this morning. There is a feeling of not having gotten anything done because I didn't spend part of my day trying to get it through his head that it's not his job to boss around his younger brothers. I hope he finds a girl that is willing to make out with him because that'll improve the attitude of the whole house.
My dumb gay cat Booger has taken to peeing on the garage floor. He thinks this is a cute thing to do. I think my garage smelling of lemon Pinesol after I scrub is an improvement on his cuteness. He's getting old and at least he's not piddling in the house.
Home improvement is near completion. In the past two years I've redone a bathroom, redid all of our floors with tile or carpet, painted walls, refinished the laundry room and last Monday we poured a backyard patio. Wednesday we finish the landscaping. In the fall I redo my kitchen counters. Then there are only small fixes after that. Maybe I'll knock down a wall just for kicks.
If this house looks good hopefully we'll sell it. I'd like to move to civilization...or at least much closer to a Walmart. In this economy, when the wage earner is a public schoolteacher, that's a big wish.
In the twenty acre parking lot of the twenty screen movie theater, we unknowingly picked the spot right next to the fresh puddle of puke. When I opened the door and the smell hit, no one minded moving the van to another spot an acre further from the box office.
My sewing machine is in the shop. That's easier to fix than a blood clot.
Justin picked me up a book at a garage sale. A modern take on Pride and Prejudice from Mr. Darcy's perspective. This lead me to read the gushing reviews of this awful book, which lead me to some other fanfiction, which lead me to some really out there fan fiction detailing every single sexual position Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennett managed while time travelling a thousand years into the future, having been whisked away mid dance from the Netherfield Ball to have Star Trek type adventures and then returned to the ball in a most amiable embrace. There are some very frustrated cat owning womyn out there who need to stop making Mr. Darcy into a pussy.
The Hoarders marathon ends in a half hour. I have two swallows of wine left. Note to self, hoard more wine.
My husband turned 42 years old. I baked him this. Happy Birthday HunnyBunny.
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