Slog, slog, slog. Such has been my life today.
The daily paper delivery guy continues to toss the paper smack dab in the middle of the wet lawn, where the paper can then be watered with the sprinkler system if I linger in bed too long.
As I have noted before, it irks me to have to walk across a wet lawn every morning.
It also irks me that while I could stand outside in my finest attire and NO ONE would drive by.
But...if I dash outside in my sleepwear, everyone in the neighborhood will drive by and wave.
The driveway is about six feet from where the paper is tossed every single morning.
I have asked the paper guy about this.
And I am told that the newspaper would become damp if it were to rest on the concrete.
I give up. Either I am really stupid or he is really stupid.
It can't be both of us. And since I still pay for this service, I have an idea who has need for remedial course work in Basic Life 101.
I'm finishing up dragging all the Christmas trimming into the guest bedroom.
I'll jig saw puzzle the boxes into the closet tomorrow.
My policy is that the guest room is kept clear of clutter at all times so that if any one is in need of shelter I can accomodate without undue preparations within the room.
Of course the room is strictly off-limits for the cats. You never know when a guest might be allergic to felines.
The Christmas dishes are returning to their boxes, switching places with my every day set.
I got the "April" stoneware when we moved to Dallas in 1998. The fact it had a matching tea kettle charmed me!
The kitchen in Dallas had whitewashed oak cabinets, with deep turquoise tile counters and a view of a really beautiful swimming pool with a waterfall right off the breakfast area.
It was time to get new everyday dishes (which really were for EVERYDAY, I owned no fine china at that point.) The April pattern was simply perfect for that kitchen.
We only lived in that house two years, then we moved to Houston.
I was mildly dismayed that my new everyday china didn't look quite so perfect with my new home's forest green kitchen.
Gal Pal Gail visited, and I mentioned my tiny regret, noting that had I but known, I would have picked out a different stoneware pattern.
I still remember how Gail looked at me.
"You MATCH your china to your home???"
She had never thought of such a thing, and in fact had served gracious and loving meals to family, friend and strangers on plain white non-breakable Corelle Corningware for almost thirty years.
Again, sometime I wonder about my need for remedial work.
I'm pretty sure she has feed angels unaware multiple times, with not a bit of fuss about how her dishes looked.
And she managed to always look more at what is going on with people than what is going on with passing trends. Just plain folk kind of caring. More about the people, less about the stuff.
Anyway, about lighting a candle:
Make it a scented one.
When we got back from vacation Houston smelled like cow manure. Eww. No cows anywhere to be seen, and the scent was pungent from the airport to our home, about 13 miles.
Nothing about it in the news. A complete mystery.
Inside my home it smelled like a house that had been closed up for 16 days with dried up Christmas trees that now smelled like old socks. More eww.
Then Bernie heads to NYC, and there is a horrible odor there too. I talked with him last night, and asked him about it.
In classical male/boy fashion, he quickly replied that "It wasn't me...I had nothing to do with it!"
(I think it is hilarious that I can tell if a blog was written by a man or a woman just based on having had a father, brother, husband and son in my life. Men ARE different from women. Can you imagine asking a girl friend about an odor in NY and having them declare they didn't do it?)
Then today I got a flood of emails from B.'s professional listserv, all about odor issues in business facilities. Bleech.
Blogger decided to do some major work today, and in typical West Coast fashion, they noted it would begin at 7:30. No time zone mentioned...no need if you live on the West Coast.
I thought that was funny.
Forty-eight years of life on the West Coast had hardwired me for that kind of thinking.
Life on the South Coast has enlarged my thinking; now I ask what time zone someone means.
My usual morning posting was delayed, and my favorite morning blogspots were mostly nonfunctioning.
Except for daughter LauraRN's blog.
She posted a truly gross writing about odors that only a fellow nurse could love. It may be "Good to be Her", but erp, for heaven sake, some of us have delicate stomachs.
Right now I have a green apple scented candle burning in the kitchen.
Sometimes it really is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness. Or the smell.
(Update: Tiggie was swiftly removed from the guest room, and treated to a bagpipe music CD. He hates bagpipes. Sounds like cats being killed. He promises he'll be good from now on, anything, just no more bagpipes!)