Pregnancy is Definitely Worth It!

My kids were here this weekend. When I say "my kids," I mean my daughter (an only child) and her husband. They drove up from North Carolina for the holiday weekend to help me do some things around the house that I just don't have the muscle to pull off on my own. Besides, we were last together at Christmas. It's past time.

While I do appreciate their youthful energy and strength, the really neat thing is that they are great people. I raised a truly wonderful daughter, and she has good taste in men. They're a terrific young couple, and I love being with them. It's a good thing they live six hours away. I'd probably be in their faces way too much, if I had the opportunity.

My bathroom was just awful. The previous owners of my home did everything on the cheap, and I'm gradually doing away with all that. The bathroom was hardest hit by the penny-pinchers, and it was seriously in need of a face lift. We got everything done except some caulking and trim work, which I can do by myself. It already looks terrific, even without the new paint job which is next on the agenda.

During the working hours, we had plenty of time to talk and tease and...yes...fuss a little at one another. But, that's the way families do. And it felt good to have my family under my roof again. Fussing and all.

I'm not very grumpy today.

Wet Enough For Ya?

Did you ever hear that song "It's Raining Men" by the Weather Girls? I love that song. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything else, but I just thought I'd mention that. I especially love the verse when they urge you to "rip off the roof and stay in bed!" I sing along every time! Not that I'd do such a thing, mind you. I am carefully cultivating my distaste for the male of the species and have pretty much gotten to the point that I would throw back Brad Pitt and/or George Clooney. The jury is out on Clay Aiken.

But, that's not why I started this post. I was going to complain about the real weather. The gray, dank, damp, rainy day out there. Here it is May 24 and I am waring a long-sleeve turtle-neck sweater, and I am none too warm. In fact, there is a definite chill in the air. Is this ridiculous or what?

And then I think about the Dallas-Ft. Worth area from whence I came. They just finished suffering through several days of 99 degree highs. Lordy! How I hated those hot Texas summers. Everything just curls up and dies. You get third degree burns on your hands and other exposed parts just from entering your car at noon. Setting foot outside the door between 8:00 a.m. and 8:00 p.m. takes your breath away. And God forbid something goes wrong with your air conditioner - civilized life comes to an abrupt halt!

No...come to think of it, cool, damp weather really isn't all that bad. I just wish I didn't have a leak in my roof. It's always something.

Just Wondering...

Why do people sometimes spell "huge" as "hugh?" It happens a lot, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why.

I got "hugh" in an email just now, which explains my sudden frustration with it. For some reason, it reminded me of another error that sets my teeth on edge - "fridge" spelled as "frig". I mean, come on. There is clearly a "d" in fridge. Say it a couple of times. With everyone saying "frigging" this and "frigging" that these days, you'd think people would be more atuned to "frig" and would realize the difference. I guess "fridge" really isn't a word...so I should probably just ignore the whole issue. Let it go.

Not frigging likely!

Regressive Behavior

I have downplayed it here, but you might as well know. I am a Clay Aiken freak of the first order. There are places all over the internet where one can indulge in this obsession, so I will not bring that here. But...

I have met some wonderful Clay fans over the last year and a half or so. To see our man as often as we can, we all pile into vans and travel up and down the East coast, sleeping four to six in a motel room, living on Doritos and Twinkies. Clay hasn't been on the road in a while, and we're suffering withdrawal. We have learned to combat the symptoms by getting together every couple of months anyway. This weekend was one of those times.

We're mostly women in our fifties. This weekend, we came from Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania and New York. We're highly educated. Professionals, many of us. And we act like 12-year olds, giggling and hooting at every little nuance in the endless concert bootlegs we watched until the wee hours this morning. I won't go into the fantasy scenarios we created with a Ken doll and some X-rated candy. You probably don't want to know. Now that I think about it...I was more reserved as a 12-year old!

I laughed until my face hurt...and then I laughed some more. It feels so good to just let go and not worry about what anybody thinks. That's the best thing I get out of this fandom - the connection to other women. My Clay buddies will probably never read this, but this is my way of acknowledging how special they are to me - and how much they have enriched my life. I love mah gurrls! [big Dinah Shore kiss!]

It's Official - 1-800-Flowers SUX

My daugher tried to send me flowers for Mother's Day. I haven't told her about my blog...don't really want people close to me reading it. She didn't know about my negative experience with 1-800-Flowers - and that's what she used to send my bouquet. Big mistake.

I was galavanting Saturday afternoon. Late that afternoon, she caught up with me by cellphone and asked if I'd gotten the flowers, so I knew they were on their way. When I got home that night...no flowers. No "we missed you, please call us" note on the door. No phone message. Nothing.

OK...I figure they're going to make deliveries on Mother's Day. Some florists do that these days. Nada.

Alrighty....surely I'll hear from them during normal working hours.

Nope.

It's been a week now, and despite my daughter making two calls to their customer service line, I've not heard a word, nor seen a blossom.

These people are BAD.

When I sent flowers to my daughter, I used the net to find a local florist. Called them directly. Got GREAT service and way more flowers for my money.

Learn from our mistakes!!!

Chewing What I Bit Off

A few weeks ago we got a nice little bonus at my office. I've worked there 30 years, and this is a first! I don't expect a follow-up. So, I decided to make the most of it and put the money into kitchen renovations. My house was a rental unit for 12 years prior to my buying it. The wear and tear is obvious, and the kitchen got the worst of it. So, I sprung for a new kitchen countertop, sink and faucet. Someone else did the labor on those babies, but now the money is gone, and it's down to the sweat of my brow.

This weekend I ripped out the old, NASTY range hood and the World's Ugliest Light Fixture that hung above the sink. Put in a nifty new halogen task light that's all stainless steel and glass. Super cool. I bought a stainless steel range hood with halogen downlights, and tonight's chore is to get that thing hung. There's a little problem with the structure of the cabinet above the stove, but I think I can resolve the issues with a few shims, some long woodscrews, maybe some carriage bolts and lots of patience.

The cabinetry is sad. It's stained and probably used to be pretty, but years of abuse have just made it nasty-looking. Replacements are out. Ditto for refacing. So, I'm painting. Yikes! They will really look good when I'm done. That image keeps me going when I begin to wonder what the hell is wrong with me! I've picked out a dark taupe that repeats one of the colors in the fake granite countertop. But, Lordy! Painting cabinets is a horrible task! I would never do it if it weren't absolutely necessary. I discovered, however, that those tiny little roller brushes made out of foam do a terrific job on this kind of work. The surface is so smooth, it almost looks sprayed on. So, tuck that tidbit away for the next time you need to repaint a glossy or semi-glossy surface.

And then there are the walls. They have been banged and bunged so many times...and patched badly...that they are shameful. So, I'm texturizing. A cousin did her walls in a kind of European plastery/distressed look, and I'm shamelessly copying her. The technique is simple...just slather on lots of joint compound and smush it around with big putty knives until it's as textured as you want it. Let it dry and paint! It's going to look really good. But....I've got lots of kitchen wallspace.

I had started painting the living and dining rooms when all this started. Decided I didn't like the accent color and stopped. I've regrouped and have purchased new accent color - but the area is striped with endless yards of blue tape and covered with drop cloths. Cans and cans of paint line the hallway. Home Dept bags litter the floor. They contain sandpaper, caulk, extra rollers, rags, gloves...you get the idea.

Are you forming a mental picture of the disaster area that I'm now living in? My kids are coming in two weeks to help me rip out the bathroom vanity and floor. It's only going to get worse! Nothing horrible has happened yet. I figure it's only a matter of time.

Terrorism 101

Does it bother anybody besides me that the news media seems to delight in exposing weaknesses in our security? I know what their motivation is. They think they're going to point out something that needs attention - and whoever's in charge will step up to the plate and fix it. They have a great deal more faith than I.

What it really feels like to me is that these little exposes are roadmaps for terrorists. For instance, this week our local NBC channel is doing a piece on the vulnerabilities associated with a tunnel leading into the city. Apparently, there are virtually no security measures in place. Well, whoopie! Now every nutcase within a hundred mile radius knows it.

Any time now, I expect the mobile unit to broadcast from a local water processing station. I can just see it...they'll give the location of the place and tell how easy it is to get into and how just a little bit of toxin thrown into the water supply would have the capacity to kill a couple hundred thousand people.

This sort of thing happens all the time - and it gives me the willies when it does. Sure, Al Qaida probably already knows all this. But, all those "free agents" out there, just looking for a way to make their place in history, are getting some valuable lessons from our intrepid reporters.

If the tunnel gets blown up, I'm holding Channel 4 responsible!

Monday Morning Gossip

Wish I'd said this on Friday when I noticed it instead of today, but...

Jennifer Wilbanks, the confused "Runaway Bride" from Duluth, GA just looks like a woman with problems to me. She's got a look in her eyes that suggests more than a little bit of hyper-intensity. And have you noticed the body language between her and her fiance? In every picture I've seen of the two of them together, her head is tilted away from him, as if she really doesn't want to be there.

I'm a Grumpy Old Broad. I'm allowed to draw conclusions and make half-assed assumptions based on nothing but the look in someone's eyes and the tilt of their head. Getting old and crazy has got to come with some benefits.

Mark my words, though. People who know Jennifer but who aren't really in the inner circle are going to start talking. Soon. And my guess is this girl has been bonkers for a long time. Should be fun to watch.