In Which I Grumble, Grouse, and Gloat Because Sometimes Life Is Like That

The Code of Personal Bloggers, if such a thing exists, suggests that all blog posts shall have an image on them. Hence I give you a photo of a green rocking chair on the screened-in porch.

TODAY IS THE LAST TUESDAY in Winter in the Northern Hemisphere while also being the first Tuesday in Year Two of the Pandemic. And ain’t it a pip?

Even though there wasn’t any snow or ice we didn’t do much of anything over the weekend. It was blah and bland outside, totally uninspiring, plus Daylight Savings Time *stole* an hour of my life again. And I was feeling poorly after my second shingles shot so laying low was the way to go.

On the upside, having gotten my second shingles shot out go the way I can now focus on getting my/our Covid-19 vaccinations, which supposedly will be available to us starting in early April.

Uh huh. We’ll see. 🙄

WHILE WE CONTINUED TO STAY in our Covid-19 bubble, Zen-Den worked on his latest 2,000 piece puzzle. It’s of Pokemon characters who are large, colorful, and a bit menacing to see on your dining room table. But *hey* if it keeps Mr. Man entertained to put all those little puzzle pieces together, then it’s good.

I tried a new recipe over the weekend, but it’s not worth repeating. It was for Irish Soda Bread Muffins. The muffins turned out to have an identity crisis: too sweet to be Irish Soda Bread, too bland to be a yummy muffin. I’ll go back to making a proper loaf of Irish Soda Bread.

Like my ancestors before me. 🍀

THE ONLY OTHER EXCITEMENT HERE, if you can call it excitement, is that after months of trying we finally got all the composite decking samples we are interested in. Procuring them has been a game. You order them online where *no surprise* one sample or another is not available. Then you check back a few weeks later and one of the samples you want is available, but the others are still not available. Try again later.

However after much effort we have way too many 17 different samples from two companies. At the moment the top three contenders for Chez Bean’s new deck are: TimberTech Brown Oak, Trex Toasted Sand, or Trex Coastal Bluff. All are medium brownish with gray undertones and noticeable imitation woodgrain texture.

So huzzah! 🏡

INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW: Have you had your Fauci ouchies? If so, how does that make you feel? If not, when will you get your vaccination shots?

In Which I Wash My Mouth Out With Soap Because I Did Not Think Ahead

It’s not that I swear all the time.

I only do so when the situation calls for it, according to my own moral compass. Thus when I tell you that I let out a string of curse words you may be assured it was necessary.

Here’s what happened. It’s a one thing leads to another scenario.

Winter arrived. My skin got dry and itchy so I stopped using Dial bar soap in the shower, switching to a gentler bar of soap that isn’t so intense. But because I’m a frugal woman I put the partially used bar of soap in a drawer in the bathroom cabinet near the sink.

This drawer houses items I use to make myself presentable– including, for instance, a tub of moisturizing cream and a few bottles of leave-in hair conditioner and a razor or three.

Also in the drawer there’s a box of Arm & Hammer baking soda that I occasionally use instead of toothpaste. I use the baking soda every few days so the box is open (with the little cardboard lid thingie sort of closed) in the drawer. It’s a throwback to my childhood when people sometimes used baking soda for the cleaning of teeth. [Don’t judge.]

And this is where the trouble began.

As I’m sure you know baking soda is often used in refrigerators as a way of absorbing odors in them. Very effective, good stuff. BUT did you know that if you put an open box of it in a drawer with an unwrapped partially used bar of heavily scented soap, the baking soda will absorb the scent, the flavor, the essence of that soap?

Of course thinking on it now you do, but I was not so wise. I didn’t anticipate the consequences of storing Arm & Hammer baking soda and Dial bar soap, side-by-side, in a closed bathroom drawer.

Hence it came to be that one morning I reached for the now Dial-soap-scent-infused Arm & Hammer baking soda and used the baking soda to brush my teeth, not knowing what had happened to it in the drawer. From this experience I learned can confirm that Dial soap tastes awful, rating high on the yuck-o-meter, if there is such a thing.

Also I can confirm that while I don’t swear often, it’s a skill you never forget, like riding a bike. I know this to be true because between rinsing my mouth out with water multiple times, I used words of the sort not meant for a PG-13 family blog like this one. Thus I’ll paraphrase what I said using The Good Place’s Eleanor Shellstrop‘s sanitized curse words instead of my own.

Holy mother forking shirt balls! BLEECH!

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Happy Weekend, everyone. Try to keep it clean.

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In Which A 3:00 A.M. Conversation About An Alleged Nightmare Turns Into A Nightmare

It is 3:00 a.m. We are in bed asleep. At least one of us is…

HIM: Are you awake?

ME: {sleeping}

HIM: I think you’re awake.

ME: {ignoring him}

HIM: You were counting in your sleep.

ME: {rolling over in order to ignore him better}

HIM: Why were you counting in your sleep?

ME: Not counting, sleeping.

HIM: Ah-ha, so you are awake.

ME: {sigh}

HIM: So what were you counting? You woke me up because you were counting in your sleep. Out loud.

ME: Don’t know. Sleeping.

HIM: Ah-ha, so you admit to the fact that you were counting in your sleep.

ME: Don’t know. Maybe? Sleeping.

HIM: What were you counting in your sleep? Hmmm?

ME: SHEEP. I was counting sheep.

HIM: Really? I didn’t know people did that except in stories and commercials.

ME: Uh huh. SLEEPING.

HIM: What kind of sheep?

ME: Fluffy. White. Just basic sheep.

HIM: What were they doing? How were you counting them?

ME: THEY WERE JUMPING OVER A FENCE, OK? AND I COUNTED THEM AS THEY DID THAT. 

HIM: Well, you don’t have to yell at me. I was only concerned that you were having a nightmare.

ME: I wasn’t before, but I sure am now.  

HIM: Well, I’m going back to sleep now that I know you’re ok. Good luck with your sheep. Sorry you can’t sleep.

ME: {wide awake and fretful at 3:05 a.m.}

HIM: *snoring*

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In The Countryside: A Leisurely Walk Along A Trail, A Quiet Study In Contrasts

The sun came out over the weekend so we went for a walk along a biking + walking trail that runs through the area.  [Read a previous post about it HERE.]

Usually when we walk this trail going out into the countryside the trees are leafy green so we cannot see what is beside the trail, but this being late winter the leaves on the trees didn’t obscure the views.

This is what we saw.  Much of it was new to me, even though it’s been there all along, just hidden from view.

I’m sure there’s a lesson in this post but I’ll leave it to you, kids, to discern it.  I’m still trying to figure out what time it is.  Spring forward, my Aunt Fanny.

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The trail out into the countryside seen with hardly a soul on it.

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An old house with a bowed roof that appears to be someone’s home.

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A McMansion in the process of being built next door to the previous house.

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Three trailers parked across the way from the McMansion.

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A gazebo in a township park close to the trailers seen above.

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A rustic creek with new apartment complex overlooking it.

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Bicycle sculptures with benches, a place to rest along the trail.

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I’m Not A Fish, But Know How They Must Feel In Their Bowls

Some of you know this story already, but I’ll be brief, keep it snappy, and tell it here so that the title of this post makes sense to you, my gentle readers.

After 4 1/2 months of waiting we finally got new replacement windows on the front of the house.

It was a tedious, anxiety-producing process that started with a 3 1/2 month wait, involved delivery of mis-measured windows, a thwarted installation, a makeshift faux installation of the wrong windows to fill the holes in the house created by the thwarted installation, waiting… waiting… waiting again…, and then correctly-sized windows properly installed.

A Christmas Pella miracle, she says with a hint of sarcasm.

The result of this home improvement project is: 1) we no longer have leaky broken windows;  2) we are noticing how much quieter it is in the house with new windows;  and 3) we have no blinds, my preferred window treatment, to put on the new correctly-sized properly installed windows on the front of the house.

Specifically blinds for the windows in the home office where I sit at the desk while using a desktop computer to write this blog.

Forsooth.

But here’s where it gets fishy. Now that it’s darker outside in the early morning, and with no blinds on the windows, I feel like a guppy in a fishbowl sitting in this room. Passersby, whether they be kids on school buses or runners or adults walking their dogs, can see me swimming around sitting at the computer, under the overhead light, doing my early morning bloggy thing, often in my pajamas.

We taped a plastic super strength high density painter’s drop cloth over the windows in an attempt to make this room less noticeable from the street, but it just blurs me, doesn’t hide me.

Ptooey, she says with a hint of defeat.

I don’t like the idea of being on display here each morning but until we get blinds on the new correctly-sized properly installed windows, that took longer to manufacture and install than building this house did, I’ve no choice but to live my life like a fish in a fishbowl for everyone who goes by to see.

And ain’t that grand?