A Tale In Which The Beans Triumph Over That Which Does Not Belong Inside Their House

Here’s a story, a snippet of life, that’s never happened here before. Please join me while I say a quiet prayer that it doesn’t happen again.

THE BEST WAY TO TELL this tale is to start by telling you that we have a new Oxo food strainer in the kitchen. There’s a reason for this purchase that I will share, BUT first I must explain what was going on at this house a few Saturday mornings ago.

To wit, if you happened to be driving by around 8:00 a.m. and noticed that Zen-Den in his plaid flannel pajama bottoms and white v-neck undershirt was running out the front door holding a food strainer at arm’s length in front of him, you might have been curious.

Further because you’re a person who pays attention you’d have noticed that he was barefoot as he darted through the front yard, making a hasty retreat to the back of the property where there is the big ole forest primeval.

A place where certain critters, alive or dead, belong.

Unlike the place inside our house where he and I found a certain live critter that did not belong.

• • •

YOU SEE WE FOUND a garden snake, about a foot long, slithering around the baseboards in our walk-in closet. I’m not a fan of snakes, albeit I understand they’re useful in the whole scheme of things and I’m cool with that as long as they are nowhere near me.

Or my clothes and shoes.

Particularly the idea of my shoes.

Which this snake may or may not have been in prior to being discovered.

At this point, my gentle readers and kind lurkers, you’re probably asking yourself two things: 1) HOW did this snake get into the house; and 2) WHAT did the Beans do about the situation.

I shall address these questions in the order asked.

• • •

HOW THIS HAPPENED: Because nothing goes smoothly for me, after about two years of dithering around and being indecisive about, we bought a new mattress: a Stearns & Foster Lux Estate with an adjustable base.

It is swanky and ever so comfortable.

However it’s heavy, thus requiring that the front door be open for a long time, many times, while the delivery men carefully carried the new mattress and then the frame into the house. Not to mention that the old mattress + box springs and its frame were taken out of the house through the same open front door.

We think that during the time the door was open, a garden snake who we’d seen living under a bush by the front door, decided to visit. It was hot and humid outside, cool and dark inside, so he decided to go on an adventure.

Which he did by sneaking into our house unnoticed.

Eventually making his way upstairs to our bedroom closet.

[I refuse to entertain the idea that the snake came in with the new mattress and frame. If that is so I’d be too freaked out to sleep on the new bed, so don’t even go there with that idea.]

• • •

WHAT WE DID: Upon discovering the snake in the closet the Beans, who you may remember are no strangers to unwanted critters inside their house, sprung into action. He went to the basement to get a wooden mallet out of his tool bucket while I went into the kitchen to get our food strainer.

His idea, smash it to smush. My idea, capture it in the strainer.

In the end we both prevailed.

Z-D was able to subdue the snake using the mallet to whack it on its head a few times. Then using the strainer I handed to him, he scooped up the probably dazed [but maybe dead] snake. He ran downstairs, out the front door, to the back of the property where he threw it into the woods.

Where I believe snakes belong.

• • •

OF COURSE ALL THAT’S LEFT to tell is the denouement of this tale.

Quite simply, once a snake, alive or dead, touches anything I use in the kitchen, that object is no longer welcome in my kitchen. Or as in this case anywhere inside the house.

Hence we tossed the old food strainer into the recycling bin and promptly bought its replacement.

Lending credence to the wisdom implied in the saying: out with the old, in with the new. 

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

✅ What is the last largest purchase you made? What is the last smallest purchase you made? Was there a correlation between the two?

✅ When looking for a new mattress which of these variables have been or will be the most important to you:

  • price
  • comfort
  • brand name
  • immediate availability
  • free delivery of new mattress
  • free removal of old mattress
  • current frame will work
  • existing sheets will fit
  • warranty
  • other

✅ Had any unwanted guests lately? If so, how did you get them to leave? Was there DRAMA?

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A Rare Sunday Blog Post In Which I Grumble Unimaginatively About A Rare Early Snowfall

“Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.”

Oscar Wilde said that, but I say WHATEVER.  I don’t see that dude standing here dealing with weather whiplash like I am.

You see, and I am a bit grumbly about this, after falling back one hour last Sunday we had a beautiful week of sunny days and agreeable daily highs in the 70s. I was running around outside wearing shorts and a t-shirt and sandals.

Life was good, in a warm busy way.

However yesterday *bing bang boom* we had our first snowfall of the season.  This isn’t statistically the norm.  Our first snow usually arrives in December [sometimes as late as January] meaning that I’m supposed to have a few more weeks of autumn.

With a gradual decline in the temperature.

With me going from shorts to capris, then pants.

But there I was yesterday morning scrambling around in the closet looking for jeans and a sweater and boots.  Clothes I enjoy wearing, but prefer to deal with in an organized, systematic way.

Not by throwing open drawers and storage bins, rooting through piles of turtlenecks trying to remember which ones I actually like–and which I ones I tolerate because I bought them & they’re here now.

Anyhow, because I’m sensing that the cold is here to stay and because I’m not ready to deal with it in a mature way, I wrote this rare Sunday blog post.  By talking about the early snow I do realize that I’m avoiding the obvious: that is, I could be doing something productive like getting my winter clothes in order.

But instead I’m complaining.  Not quite whining, but grousing, hoping to find the silver lining in this cold wet unwanted cloud of early snowiness that makes me feel like hibernating inside until next spring.

Which I should not do.

Thus if you see the silver lining in any of this please point it out to me.  Or if nothing else, distract me from the weather with your warm personality and joyful thoughts.

You know you want to.

No Song, Gleam, Or Peace Here: Ms. Bean Reports On Her Noisy Morning Thus Far

Good morning, my little rays of sunshine.

Or at least I wish it was a good morning.  I have no song in my heart.  No gleam in my eye.  And there is definitely no peace in my soul.

HERE IS WHY.

The following explains my morning so far.  Let me warn you that currently I’m not at my happiest.  Kind of snarly.

First, at 6:00 a.m. Zen-Den’s phone alarm chimed to inform him, and me be default, that is it was time for him, not me, to get up to face the day.  This is normal noise that I look forward to not hearing once he retires, something he claims will happen in September, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

He got up, but I snuggled under the covers to contemplate arising to meet the day at this awful hour continue sleeping, as one does.

THIS WAS NOT MEANT TO BE.

At 6:14 a.m. his phone started blaring its alert signal.  Yes, that horn sound went off, loudly, as if all heck had broken lose.  Z-D was in the shower, didn’t hear the alert signal, so I reluctantly got up to find out what the emergency was all about.

It was that an elderly woman had wandered away from a home on a street near here.  She was only wearing a light top and jammies bottoms, which considering the cold temps, is dangerous.  Be on the lookout for her, so I will be.

Clearly at this point I was awake so I decided to go downstairs and make a pot of coffee.  This is my usual morning routine, just maybe not this early, but whatever.

I can adapt.

I can be useful.

I can sip coffee and mutter quietly in the corner.

THAT, SADLY, DID NOT HAPPEN.  

You see, I brewed the coffee without any trouble but as I sat there in the semi-darkness caffeinating myself with said coffee I heard a noise.  A noise that can only mean one thing. One lousy, awful, undoubtedly expensive thing.

The noise was the desperate sound of an animal trapped inside the house, probably in the attic or maybe in the walls, who was, and still is, scraping, pawing, flaying itself around in an attempt to escape from the inside our house.

WHERE IT SHOULD NOT BE.

And on that note of irritation I shall end this post.  Trying to not hear the noise that is going on over my head.  Trying to not be distressed by the events thus far on this ill-fated Friday morning.

Hoping that you, my little rays of sunshine, have something positive to tell me about your day.  Distract me, please.

 

 

The One About My Car Gone Wacko: My Kingdom For Some Earplugs

This is not my sweet Olivia, but it is a lovely 1908 Ford Model T car. I bet it had a heck of a horn on it. [Image via autos/yahoo.com on Pinterest]

And then this happened… 

I went shopping in a real store instead of online.  [My first mistake perhaps?]  The store was about 20 minutes from home.

I parked my sweet Olivia, my 19 y.o. Honda Accord, in the parking lot then went inside a store to buy a few things.  I returned to the parking lot and put my bags of stuff into Olivia’s trunk.

No problemo.

Then I got inside the car, began to turn on the ignition with my key, but before I could get Olivia started THE POOR DEAR WENT WACKO and began blaring her security alarm with me inside the car.

I tried getting in and out of the car, but to no avail.  She continued to produce a jarring cacophony.

I tried pushing random buttons on the dashboard, but the noise continued.

I tried using the little button on my key to deactivate the alarm but the battery in my key had gone dead. Did. not. work.

Given up the ghost.

This left me sitting inside my car in a parking lot with no way to turn off the alarm while the alarm continued to shriek in a pattern of 3 long honks, 2 second pause, 3 long honks, 2 seconds pause, ad infinitum.

Thus it came to be that I drove Olivia home serenaded by her ear-piercing security alarm system, noticed by many other drivers on the road.

Oh yes I was.

But the story does not end here… 

Once home I pulled into our garage.

You may remember that a few months ago a car was stolen at gunpoint from inside a neighbor’s garage;  the neighbor walked into his garage while the car was being stolen [weird story here].  It was the talk of the subdivision.

Unnerving.

At that time Zen-Den and I agreed that if I ever knew or thought someone was following me home, I should pull into our garage and start blaring my car horn, thus alerting him to trouble.

Which, of course, is exactly WHAT I UNINTENTIONALLY DID when I pulled into our garage because I couldn’t turn off Olivia’s rather robust alarm system.

Big problemo.

Thus it came to be that a worried Zen-Den, who was working from home, heard the alarm and figured I was in trouble.

But before I could get inside the house to tell him what had happened, he came running into the garage to rescue me from harm, not realizing it was just my sweet Olivia throwing a hissy fit.

Oh yes she was.

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

Has your vehicle [car, truck, SUV, van, motorcycle] ever set off its security alarm system for reasons unclear?

If so, what did you do?

Do you prefer to shop online thus avoiding any and all drama associated with going to a brick & mortar store?

[Gold star to anyone who understands the literary allusion in the title of this post.]

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