September 30, 2017

I swear, I think he is on the cusp of becoming a hoarder...

Man-Child's birthday is tomorrow so I set about to make his requested cake - lemon pound cake.  Yes, it's not a traditional birthday cake, but it's what he wanted.  As a side note - HOW did he get to 23 already?!!

When I opened the pantry, I had to restrain from cursing.  The Husband's habit of over buying food was most definitely on display.  He is of the opinion that we always need to be "prepared."  Prepared for what, I don't know.  But I do know that no one needs to be THAT prepared.  He also loves to get a deal - so tends to buy stuff on sale; whether we need it or not.  I am convinced he is on the cusp of becoming a food hoarder.

After rummaging through the mess of cans, bags of beans, bags of rice (why do we even HAVE bags of rice?  Every time I've seen him make rice he uses the microwave type), beans and a million other things, I was finally able to unearth the things I needed to make the cake.

After whipping up the cake and popping it in the oven, I turned back to the pantry.  I knew I needed to wrestle it into some semblance of order somehow.  With our last house, we had a huge walk-in pantry and I think that's where The Husband's problem started - God forbid should we have had an empty spot in there.  But in this house, we have a small, reach-in pantry.  That was haphazardly stuffed so full that I couldn't even find the light switch!

Sometime during the process, I sent the following text to my friend.

Truly, this isn't even accurate.  By the time I was done, I found TWELVE cans
of bread crumbs and TWENTY-FIVE cans of soup. 

And that soup?  Hand to heart, I have NEVER EVER have seen him eat canned soup, generally he makes his own!

After that, I quit counting items because it was just too crazy.  The bags upon bags upon bags of rice and beans were beyond overwhelming.  It was about this time that The Husband and Man-Child walked in.  I looked at The Husband and informed him that he had a problem.  Of course, he denied it and asked why I was doing this now.  I told him I was doing it now because I had such a hard time getting to and finding the few ingredients I needed.  I then told him that his bags of beans and rice will now reside in the garage until we can free up some space in the pantry.  He acceded to that small concession and went out to mow the yard - where I'm sure he was fuming about me telling him he had a problem.

By the time he came in, I had finally finished what I'd started - two hours later.  He looked at the bags of beans and rice sitting in the garage and asked, "Are they going to just sit out like this?" 

Yes, Husband...they ARE just going to sit out here like this.

Yes, I had just dumped the rice and beans on the first available surface.  I told him we would find a better spot for them when we finally get the garage in order (another place that The Husband tends to hoard things).

As I finished, I walked into the kitchen and The Husband announced he was headed to the grocery store because he heard there was a sale on rice.  Very funny, Husband.  Very funny.  I informed him that if he brought anything home that needed to reside in the pantry that I would have him committed.

It's becoming abundantly clear...he has a problem.

Discussions with The Husband...sometimes an exercise in futility.

The Husband announced that he planned to have an inpatient procedure done next January.  He then asked what day was better for me.  I responded that Mondays or Fridays are usually my preference.

He came back with those are usually the busiest days.  I said yes, they usually are.  And he responded with, "So maybe the middle of the week?" 

Me: .....?

Him: ...?

Me:  No, a Monday or a Friday is better.  Preferably Friday.

Him:  But those are the busiest days of the week...

Me:  Yes, I know.  But make the appointment and it will be fine.

Him: the medical offices those are probably the busiest days of the week!

Me: ... (head in my hands)

I finally had to walk away for a minute because I was so frustrated.  I needed to step back and figure out exactly where the disconnect was coming from.

When I came back I said, "Here is what I'm trying to tell you.  Most people do not make their appointments four or five months in advance.  So if you make your appointment NOW you will most likely get the time/date you want for January."

Him: *light bulb moment*...Oh, I see! 

Sometimes I wonder how we ever get anything accomplished.

September 22, 2017

I do believe my "new" hairstylist has dumped me...

If you've hung around here for any length of time, you will realize, the subject of my hair always seems to pop up from time to is one of those days.

Over  two years ago, my very favorite hairstylist of all time moved to Florida.  It was a very dark period in my life.  Before he abandoned me, he was kind enough to recommend another stylist in the shop.  I've used her a few times and was very happy with her work.  Was she him?  No, but she knew her stuff.

As you might remember (if not, see the previous link), I'm not the very best about making regular appointments.  So maybe I've seen her about three or four times since he left - so yes, I'm not THE best or most regular customer - but in my defense, I tip VERY well to compensate for my erratic habits.

And then, earlier this year, I kind of gave up regarding the taming of my curls.  Then came the "Summer Hours" at work and I abandoned any and all thought to occasionally taming those curls; because who had that kind of time in the morning?

The inevitable happened - my hair grew.  And then grew some more.  I vaguely recall sending her a text and then a voicemail way back before Summer Hours was even a thing and never receiving a response.  After Summer Hours began, I forgot about it completely - because 1) time was valuable and 2) with curls you don't quite realize how long your hair is getting because it's generally an inch or two shorter when in curls than straight.

Oh, you do know it's growing as every time you go to take a bite of food the hair falls into your face and you end up getting some of it in your mouth.  And you notice more hair floating around on the bathroom floor - but it's not enough to actually make you want to DO anything about it.

Until you are faced with a family wedding.

Then you realize just how out of control your hair has become - and how slothful you've become in trying to tame the curls.  So you call your "new" hairstylist...nothing.  You call again...nothing.  You call the salon, discover she is still working there and leave a voicemail...nothing.

By now it's too late - you are headed out for the family wedding with wild hair.  You decide to wear it up and hope for the best.  And decide that when you get home it is time to find a new hairstylist. *sigh*

Last night I dried my hair straight for the first time in - oh jeez, WHO KNOWS - how many months.  I definitely need it cut but...the very thought of finding another great hairstylist who will also put up with my erratic ways is exhausting...but it's that or continuing the chew on the ends my hair every time I eat.  Or maybe I'll change my ways and not get ghosted by the new hairstylist...oh who am I kidding?

September 10, 2017

If you live with a slob then it probably wasn't a break in.

It's no secret, I like my things "just so" - they may not be perfect, but I WILL know when they've been tampered with - yes, I realize I get this from my mother.  In my opinion, that is one of the better qualities that I share with her.

The other day I came home to an empty house.  I immediately headed to my "closet"/"dressing room" to change.  Yes, I am VERY predictable - this is the first thing I do every day.  Upon entering the closet/dressing room - whatever; I noticed that the some drawers were open and others were half open.  I noticed that the footstool was pushed halfway across the room.

I panicked.  But not TOO much.  I realized that I left before anyone else that morning.  I also realized that some of The Husband's stuff is still stored in there because, even though we've been here for a year and a half, I haven't bothered to move it to his closet/dressing room yet.  So I quelled my panic for minute and texted both guys - all the while thinking, "Is someone hiding in the house?!"  Because all immediate evidence pointed to the fact that I'd interrupted a robbery in progress.

Then The Husband responded first with a "No. Why?!"  At that point, I was ready to flee.  I responded with, "drawers open; footstool moved.  Nothing seems to be missing."  My first instinct upon learning this was not The Husband's doing was to leave the house immediately.

And then it became apparent to me.  Man-Child.  That boy and his sloppiness clued me in immediately.

He had received a pair of khakis - along with other paraphernalia for his stipend paid "job"/"volunteer work".  Those khakis needed to be hemmed.  A task which he has put off for over two weeks.  One day last week, I noticed those khakis sitting on the living room table - WHY?!  What purpose did those khakis have on the living room table?!

Those khakis were not on the living room table anymore.

The drawer which was most prominently open held my miniature sewing kit.  And then it clicked.

In response to my query earlier that week about getting those pants hemmed, he informed me that he would just pin those un-altered pants up for the first game and that it would be fine.  HE had ransacked my closet/dressing room looking for safety pins.  He'd found them and left everything in disarray - as usual.

And three minutes after I reached the conclusion, he responded saying that yes, he was responsible.

September 4, 2017

How do you eat an elephant? Apparently, one bite at a time...

This afternoon found me in the garage - despite everything else I need/want to do around here.

Our garage is/was an out and out travesty.  The truth be told, the garage hasn't been properly unpacked from two moves ago.  It still isn't.

But, it HAD become a dumping ground.  Because when you have a place that is a total pigsty why not "just leave this right here for a minute?" which, of course, leads to that item times infinity living there forever.  So my mission today became whipping this area into a "semblance" of order.

Notice, I didn't say "into" order.  No.  Today my mission was to get rid of the garbage, donations, those damn plastic bags that The Hoarder (aka The Husband) hoards for some reason. and whatever other detritus I could rid ourselves of in a two hour frame.

In hindsight, it might have made more sense to weed the yard.  Although, the temperatures only reached 80 degrees today, it was easily twenty degrees hotter in the garage.

At any rate, the garage looks one hundred percent better.  All the boxes that were cluttering up the place were cut down and stored (for use in the garden before we order the truckload of mulch).  Goodwill received a large box of donations and those stupid plastic bags were FINALLY returned to the store.  It even got swept out!

Now, I can look at the garage  - and all that still needs to be done - and not shudder.

Afterwards, as I was talking to The Husband, I mentioned that every weekend should be a long one - if only to get things done around the house because, let's be honest, on a two day weekend, you seriously don't want to spend ALL of it getting things done.

But then, as I sat on the back porch and surveyed the backyard, I realized just HOW far that particular project has come since we've moved in a mere year and a half later...

Ignore the bare spots - we've put out grass seed; it's yet to grow.  Of course.

Although this project is FAR from done - the fence is down.  The ugly birdhouse is down.  The majority of the blackberry bush is gone (although it continues to pop up in random spots and will for the rest of my life I fear - unless that saved cardboard does the trick...everyone send up prayers for success here).  The backyard is slowly coming into focus; and already looks SO much better than it did...and it all happened one bite-sized bit at a time.

Then the realization dawned...ALL the projects will never get done in one fell swoop...unless we win the lottery (fingers crossed).  It's always going to be a bite-sized bit at a time.  And although that frustrates me, I'm kinda okay with it.  Because looking back and seeing what HAS been accomplished is an awesome feeling.