Of Wise Women, Broken Dishwashers & Lost Earrings

November 10, 2015November 11, 2015 / Ally Bean / 36 Comments

“You can put lipstick and earrings on a hog and call it Monique, but it’s still a pig.”

~Ann Richards, former governor of Texas and wise woman

HERE IS A TALE TOLD WITH A SINKFUL OF DIRTY DISHES…

About two years ago our dishwasher started leaking water and making odd sounds as it attempted to clean our dishes.

I was sad because even though I didn’t grow up with a dishwasher in the house, unless you consider me to have been the dishwasher, as a homeowner I have come to like dishwashers.

Dandy machines. When they work.

Being us, we ignored the dishwasher and rarely used it. But last year when a plumber was here for a different reason, we had him replace the leaky hose under the machine and the dripping stopped.

However, the noise within the dishwasher continued, and even got louder as the days went on. So we stopped using the dishwasher entirely and resorted to *gasp* washing dishes by hand.

[Oh the inhumanity of it all!]

Fast forward to last week when the appliance repair guy came to the house to fix the recently broken clothes dryer– and to take a look at our sad, almost useless, dishwasher while he was here.

Whereupon, after taking the dishwasher apart to the tune of $99.00, he found an earring in the dishwasher that had caused the motor to stop motoring smoothly– and subsequently ruined the motor.

Not so dandy.

As you, gentle readers, can readily understand from the above quote, I’ve now taken to calling the sad, officially broken, dishwasher: Monique.

She still looks good, and matches all the other appliances in our kitchen, which makes me happy because for the first time in my life our kitchen, remodeled seven years ago, has had the same brand and style of appliances in it.

Pretty, pretty.

But Monique is a useless trophy appliance now. So, with a heavy heart, but a practical mind, we’re going to buy a new dishwasher.

Which I shall love, regardless of how she looks. And promise that I will, to the best of my ability, keep earrings away from her.

Meaning the only question left is: what shall we name her?

As Pumpkins As My Witness, I’ll Never Be Cluttered Again

November 2, 2015October 25, 2016 / Ally Bean / 25 Comments

• • •

Good Morning!

I’m pulling together a post today, the first full day of Daylight Savings Time, by using this delightful Halloween photo, taken yesterday, and by re-wording a famous quote.

After all, what is a blog but a place to let your freak flag fly?

Especially on a Monday morning after a lazy Sunday in which I never got out of my jammies, but did manage to photograph our jack-o-lanterns.

Oh happy day!

• • •

But now that it’s Monday morning I’m feeling the need to accomplish something.

The muse of productivity, and my inner Katie Scarlett O’Hara, are telling me to apply myself to what is directly in front of me, take control of the situation, and get on with life.

That is, in a word, DECLUTTER.

Meaning that today I’ll be putting things away in the places where they belong. Sorting through piles of magazines + catalogues + recipes. Reviewing and filing important scribbled notes for future decorating and writing projects.

• • •

So with a hat tip to GWTW I’ve begun to chant to myself: “they’re not going to lick me. I’m going to live through this and when it’s all over, I’ll never be disorganized again.”

To me, this chant seems motivational. To you, it might seem nuts, but if I end up with a tidy house and know where things are, who’ll be laughing then?

Hmmm?!

• • •

[ALSO: I know how you people think. So let me say right here that if you, gentle readers, go all Rhett Butler and say you don’t give a damn, I wouldn’t believe you.

Why? Because if you’ve read this far down you do care about me! So say something nice. I need all the encouragement I can get and it’ll be good karma for you.]

We Didn’t Fit In, But We Had A Good Time: Go Bucks!

September 29, 2015July 1, 2025 / Ally Bean / 21 Comments

If you go to OSU, the only red that counts is SCARLET.

On Saturday afternoon we joined our closest 105,000 “friends” and went to a Ohio State football game. The game was in Ohio Stadium, aka The Shoe, which is on the National Registry of Historic Places. It is located on The Ohio State University main campus, which is in Columbus, OH.

The Shoe was packed.

After exiting from the highway, getting to our parking place, which was beside The Shoe, was an adventure in dodging ~~drunk~~ psyched fans, driving hither & yon on surface streets– and highlighted by a bomb squad checkpoint.

We passed.

~ ~ • ~ ~

Gray, however, is GRAY regardless of your OSU allegiance.

Then getting to our seats on a box level, accessible via huge dual-door elevators, turned into a lark. Fortunately the arena’s staff kept us laughing all along the way, as we two confused outsiders tried to find our box.

Very pleasant people.

The OSU marching band, aka The Best Damn Band in the Land, did script Ohio, which I maintain is the real reason anyone goes to these football games. And the home team won. So all was good.

Yay football.

~ ~ • ~ ~

Here’s my takeaway:

Every person who attended this event, except us, was wearing team colors, scarlet & gray. I MEAN EVERYONE. And though no one dissed us for not having any team merchandise on our bodies, I felt odd about it.

I’m not one to wear showy clothes, nor have I ever felt comfortable in team apparel, so despite wanting to be part of the group, I couldn’t bring myself to spend monies on any of the ~~over-priced~~ shirts, hats, shorts, sweatshirts, scarves, et cetera, that were available for purchase.

This wasn’t a problem, but it’s an observation that marketing has taken over the game. Meaning that looking the part of a fan is now as important as, if not more important than, being a fan.

This reality made for a visually weird overly enthusiastic-looking crowd of people wearing, what they hoped was scarlet but in actuality was multiple shades of red, emblazoned with the iconic Block O.

Fans? Perhaps. Followers? Definitely.

~ ~ • ~ ~

Of Chips & Buns, Making Small Talk At The Dinner Table

August 25, 2015 / Ally Bean / 27 Comments

I. The scene

Zen-Den and I went to dinner at a Tex-Mex place. Sitting there at our table, me sipping a frozen Texas Twister, him drinking a Dos Eqius, waiting for our tortilla chips to arrive, we got to talking.

II. The Subject

Thinking about the recent news story that I’d seen that day, I asked Zen-Den what he thought about man buns. Specifically, the man buns of Disney.

I figured that the sports babble radio guys who he listens to during his daily commute would have had something to say about man buns. But apparently they’re not as aware of male hairstyles as one might hope.

Zen-Den had no idea what I was talking about.

III. The Conversation

He asked: What kind of buns? Ones that you eat?

I said: No!

He said: Buns with your hair? On men?

I said: Yes, the ones on your head.

He asked: Like granny buns?

I said: No, not like Granny Clampett. More like sumo wrestlers.

He said: The guys are fat?

I said: No. I don’t think so. Maybe some are. The photos show thin guys.

He said: There are photos? Where?

I said: Online. In a blog or something, I think. I read an article.

He said: So these thin guys pull their hair up and twist it into a bun?

I said: Yes!

He said: How?

I said: I don’t know. It’s just up there. Maybe with a scrunchie? Or bobby pins?

He said: Why do they do it?

I said: It’s probably a thing like being a hipster with your hat. Or those “git r done” guys with their shaved heads. It’s cool, I guess.

He said: Why?

I said: I dunno. Because men are stupid?

He said: That’s true… that’s very true.

I said: I’ll send you the link to the article.

He said: Nah. I don’t want to see it. Sounds weird. That’s why I like listening to radio. I don’t have to see any pictures of stupid men.

IV. The Conclusion

The conversation ended when our server brought us fresh homemade chips and salsa. They captured Zen-Den’s attention, so he was no longer interested in cross-examining me about man buns.

I stopped talking about them, but will admit that I enjoyed watching a middle age business guy struggle with the idea of men wearing their hair in an up-do… just because they can.