This too, will end

I just wanted to post so no one thinks I fell off a ladder or something. So far, I have not fallen off anything, glued myself to anything, hammered any fingers,  or even dropped a brush or roller full of paint onto the carpet or against something in another color of paint. I fully expect to drop a brush or roller before I am done. My hands are just not that good any more and sometimes I am just really tired. My knees are about to pack up and move out, taking my shoulders with them.

The only new Pearl of Wisdom that I have is do not put Vaseline on your hands to moisturize them right before operating a carpet steamer.

I have some very clean stains on my carpet. Suggestions for removal of pet stains will be gratefully received and put to the test.

Monday the third realtor will be here for me to sign papers with her. This is so hard for me to do. I have lived here 30 years. I raised my only child here. My ex-husband and I had this house built for us. My daughter literally cut her teeth on the windowsills, and there are still some teeth marks to prove it. Only two of them aren't marble, and those are the two she went after. I know I will cry on Monday. I just hope it's after the realtor leaves.

This is the place my daughter thinks of when she thinks "home." She lived here all her growing years, until she moved out on her own. She has a room here, the one she grew up in. In my new place, there will be only 2 bedrooms, not 4. She will not have a room of her own there. She already looked a little sad when she had been up to see what I have done with her room. She saw it painted, but not with the new bed in it. I feel a little like I am displacing my daughter, but she is 26, and truly an adult woman on her own.

While my mother lived until I was 45 years old, I never felt I had a 'mommy' to take care of me and to go home to for safety or comfort. I want my daughter to always know she has a safe place with me, even if it's in the basement or on the sofa. I have aways tried to take care of her. I don't plan to stop now.

 

Go ahead, pick one

I mentioned the third realtor lady coming out, but I think I skipped the part about Molly, the Other Wonder Dog.

While the lady was here, Molly rang the servant's bell to go outside. This impressed the lady all to hell. I didn't tell her that Molly will ring the bell when Baby has to go outside too. I didn't want to show off.

After a while, Molly was showing some signs of stress, so I gave her an extra prednisone pill. Maybe half an hour later, Molly came to me and told me she needed medication. I got up, and went to the cupboard, and took out two bottles of pills - her neck medicine and her stomach medicine.

The lady looked at me, and saw me hold the two bottles up in front of Molly. She said, "If that dog picks one, I am out of here, that is too scary!" Molly smiled at her, jumped up, and stuck her nose firmly on the stomach medicine.

I laughed. I said, "Oh, geez, she is absolutely right. I am not supposed to give her prednisone on an empty stomach. Her tummy probably does hurt." I gave both dogs a small milkbone after I gave Molly the pill.

The lady's jaw was on her chest. She said, "That dog belongs on TV! She deserves her own SHOW!"

This is the dog that I swear hates the car because I won't let her drive.

 

(She did fine at the vet's for her shot and blood draw, even though they had an emergency right before we got there and I had to entertain them outside for 40 minutes - not easy with a 'roided up dog on Valium. I also decided Baby is not a beagle. She is a 30-lb Jack Russell with a beagle nose!)

West and south

Stories are just piling up in my head and popping out, aren't they?

A couple of days ago I took the hog dogs for a walk. We had missed a few days due to painting and weather. Baby is a perpetual motion machine. Sort of like a bigger Jack Russell. On steroids.

I found a pair of capris that are almost perfect for dog walking. They are from that store, Ben and Jerry's or Fred and Bob's, whatever, where everything in the store is just above free. You get what you pay for. There are great cargo pockets, more than enough to hold a full bag of dog poop, my keys, my cell phone for emergencies, and extra poopie bags, plus my pedometer. They also come so low on my hips that I can take them off without undoing them. Out of consideration for others, I wear a long shirt.

We had walked about two miles and Baby was still chomping at the bit to go, go, go. She normally behaves well and doesn't pull, but she prances and lets me know she is no where near done. Another dog came into view. The lady and I waved at each other as Baby started to bark, howl, and generally play the fool.

Baby also started jerking her leash and my right arm as hard as she could. Molly had been straining against her harness, also, and chose that moment to have her soft palate issue act up and started to chuff. She could barely breathe and was struggling for each breath. Baby was still barking and pulling me to the west, and my pants started to go south.

Bored? No, I may be retired but I am never, ever bored.

We are off to get Molly her monthly shot. She is zoned on 15 mg of Valium and 'roided up on double her prednisone. She gets a blood draw too, for electrolytes. Both dogs hate the car. Both go with me, since they are never separated. I hope Wiz didn't run off with the credit card again because this shot is very expensive.

 

 

 

Pearl of wisdom

If you are trying to book a flight online with Air Canada using your VISA card and you have website difficulties and you call AC, and they tell you they can book but it will cost a fee or you can call web help, and you call web help and they have you close the browser and suddenly the fees go up $25 each way and you get distressed, and you call back the first lady and go to find your VISA card and it's gone, look under the cat.

Wiz sleeps on my arm when I am online, and somehow the card got under her. I didn't find it until I went all through the house, my purse, every where. She finally got up and the card was on the arm of the chair, still warm from her furry little body. Do you think she went web shopping while I was searching frantically for the card?

It should not take 2 1/2 hours to book a flight.

Entertain me

Does anyone remember when I had the entire group of ladies at the massage therapy school sitting on the floor with their legs in front of them, checking to see if their hands reach the floor or not? Then I walked out. Keep that story in mind.

Today I had a third realtor come in. She seems nice, knows her stuff. I did not tell her that I went to school with the owner of the agency and used to date his brother in high school. I figured that is best kept to myself at this point. She earned brownie points by praising my painting job, or as much of it as is done so far.

She was unable to see my last two bedrooms upstairs due to the queen mattress and springs in the hallway. She is too large to fit in the narrow aisle left over. She said she is sure they look great, since I told her they are already painted and ready. So I lied a little. They are painted. But if the bed is in the hallway, then they aren't both ready, are they?

After she left, I started the errands. I went first to the supply store to re-pick out bathroom faucets because I decided I want single handles instead of double. The lady who works until 4 pm every day except Thursday and Sunday was gone by 2:30 pm today. OK, we will have to return and that really wasn't on my way to any place.

Second stop was the bank. I spent the rest of the day walking around with about $750 in cash in my little purse. Usually I have less than $400 in it, but I wasn't worried. After that, I headed to the hardware that carries the Dishmaster that I want as my kitchen faucet. Don't worry if you never heard of it. They are a mostly midwest thing and funny looking. However, I don't know anyone who ever had one who doesn't want another. Child shocked me by telling me she wishes she had one in her apartment. They aren't pretty, but they sure are functional. Maybe the buyers here will willingly give this one up. If they never used one, they probably will.

Penney's was next. I had to get the missing parts for the bed frame. Who knew that could become an Adventure? I handed the New Guy my receipt, directions, and pointed out what the problem was. He set off for package pickup to open another box and bring me the parts.

I was left with another salesman who was basically ignoring me. I don't like to be ignored. I told him I thought their furniture was as nice as Pottery Barn. That got a small smile. Then I asked about round tables, and that I want one that doesn't take a leaf because my daughter once spilled so much food into the crack that it ended up cemented. I have never wanted a table that uses a leaf since then. Who cleans the crack if you never use a leaf? You just wash the top of the table, right? (OK, I will wait while you go check your table to see if it has been cemented closed or not.)

I told him I need a table, chairs, end tables, possibly an entertainment center, and some bar stools. NOW I had his attention. I asked him if Mall B has the same furniture as his Mall A. He said they have a little more stock, but I could go there, pick it out, and return to his store to order it. Ah, I got it. I asked if there is commission involved, and he said yes. I asked if he had a card, and he gave me one. He then told me stories about cats and blinds being damaged. He could be charming after all.

The New Guy returned with the directions, and the wrong parts. I tried not to sigh. I showed him the picture again on the directions, and he agreed that those parts don't exist on my frame. I offered to go with him to package pickup. He said I couldn't go back there, but I said I would wait outside the door if it made it easier for him. It saved me waiting time too, since he walks slowly.

We went to package pickup and he brought out a frame box. We discussed the problem. He opened the box, and agreed the parts I need aren't in there. I showed him the directions again, and asked him if they made sense to him, and if there is even an explanation of how to install the cross piece. He shook his head, scratched his scalp, and opened the box. I smiled. We were going to have Fun after all.

I helped him get the pieces out of the box, while reminding him that I did this myself last night. He had no idea how to assemble it, and the directions sure weren't helping him any. I showed him how, and pointed out the black grease we now both had on our hands. I told him that no place in the directions does it mention black grease, which I now have in the middle of my otherwise just steamed clean carpet.

He was still lost in the dark as to how to make the frame work. I pointed out the pieces on the directions page, and we tried to trouble shoot it. In the meantime, we are sitting in the vestibule of package pickup with a queen-sized bed frame on the floor. People were coming in and going out, stepping over us and smiling. I smiled back. New Guy was starting to look nervous.

He thought the nuts and bolts did not need to be used to hold the bars together as they could be slotted. I said they could get unslotted if the bed was moved around at all. He seemed confused, thought that it would hold, so I said, "You don't have any children, do you?" I also showed him the holes for the bolts to go through. Oh.

We finally figured out that two extra nuts and bolts could be used to bolt on the cross piece from underneath. He gave me the pieces out of the box. I thanked him for going above and beyond, and told him I needed to go wash the grease off my hands. First, I realized I had to show him how to take it apart and get the pieces to go back in the box. I did that, and left him trying to force the pieces back into the box as I walked away, happy.

They had asked me to return my mostly assembled frame to see the problem, and now he knew why I wasn't willing to do that.

As I walked out and headed for my car, using a pedestrian cross walk, two cars in a row drove by way too fast and made no attempt to stop for a pedestrian. I waited for the UPS truck and crossed in front of him.

The things we try to do for our children. However, he missed me.

 

Good Old Wiz

Just a quick update that Wiz is holding her own and acting almost normal - for a 19-year-old cat, that is :)

Molly is 4 days past her shot and not showing any signs of failure. This could mean that her dose was too strong still, or that her body metabolizes slower than average. It looks like it could take me a year to get her really optimized on her medications.

I have a third realtor coming in an hour. Wish me luck that Three is the Charm!

Thanks to everyone who kept Wiz in their thoughts. I believe the power of positive thinking perked her up!

 

Old Wiz

My 19-year-old cat is sitting here with me, purring. She is shaking her head just a tiny bit off and on, and her right eye doesn't seem to be opening fully. When I put my hand over her head, it stops. Still, I suspect she may be starting to seize.

This could be the end of a long era. Wiz has refused to take her medication for her hyperthyroidism and is down to under 7 lbs. She will take a pill now and then, but less than a third of what she should have.

I am not sure what to do - of course it is a Sunday night. She is so old; I will not allow any heroic efforts. I will stay here with her and see what happens.

I have been wrong before, and am willing to admit error this time. I hope I have to.

 

It was pleasant serving you

I had to toss out Child's day bed. That is sad, since it had a trundle that popped up, and the two together made a nice king sized bed. However, the frame can only be kicked against the wall so many times and then it become garbage. Then mom disassembles it and it's gone.

Still, I didn't want to only have one bed in a four bedroom house to show it. Karen had recently bought a new bed and offered me her old one. It's a queen size, so great for company instead of a twin. Gary and I tossed it into the back of his truck after we picked up my armoire/desk and tossed it into the garage. We took it upstairs and left it in the hallway a few days ago.

Having no spare frame and having asked anyone who might, I shopped around on the internet and found that Penney's has frames for the best price. I hustled down to the local Penney's store and got a bit disgruntled when the clerk insisted on having my name, phone number, address, and all just for a $38 purchase. I didn't have time to take it up with a manager. She said she needed the information even if I paid cash. I gave the information after assuring her I wasn't upset with her, but with policy. She assured me that my personal information would not be given out to anyone.

A week or so later I got a personal, written Thank You note from the clerk. She used my personal information, didn't she? A personal Thank You note for a bed frame? Is Penney's that desperate?

I dragged the frame out of my car and up the stairs. Those suckers are heavy, you know?

Last night I finished up the first coat of paint on the living room. After taping, edging twice, and rolling the walls, I spent 13.5 hours. I was tired. I got up this morning to a right hand that was swollen, sore, and achy. After berating it and calling it a wimp, it got worse, so I promised it a break today. No paint rollers. It started to cramp up so I promised no paint brushes, either.

I steamed the child's bedroom and shoved the furniture back in place. I got the box opened and the frame out. I started to put it together. Pieces are missing.

I have the clerk's name on the thank you card in her own handwriting.

 

A Hello Kitty bag for adults

Today I decided to skip the morning work and go for my usual Sunday morning walk with my friend, Karen. She is the one who is late. She was late.

We walked and talked and caught up on stuff and stopped at the coney island as usual to eat. I walked 6 miles, she walked 5, since she was there later than I was. I left first, because she stayed to shop and I wanted to get some things done. Besides, I prefer not to tempt myself with anything any more. My money goes into paint, a new condo, and Molly's shots.

As I was driving to the hardware to get some more paint roller covers, my cell phone rang. It was Karen. She wanted my opinion. She said there was a cute little girl, who looked about 16, with an older guy about 40, rather scuzzy looking, who were at the door at the mall. Anyway, the girl had luggage with her. The guy walked up and kissed her on the mouth, and then they were hugging.

My opinion was one word - Internet.

Karn agreed. She didn't know what to do. We trouble shot for a few minutes. I suggested she try and use her cell phone to get a picture of the happy couple. She seemed iffy on it, but hey, it's a public place and she could pretend to act like she never takes 1000 pictures per trip from a very expensive camera.

My next suggestion was to call security, then I suggested the police. I also suggested she keep an eye on them and see if they get in a car, and get the license plate number. She said she would try, and then call me back.

She called back, and they had disappeared. I suggested that they might have been waiting on a bus, as that door is near a bus stop for the mall. I suggested that there aren't a lot of buses coming around 12:30 to the mall on a Sunday afternoon, and if there is a problem, the bus could be found. I suggested she call the police at that point.

We agreed that if the girl is actually 18, nothing could be done.

She asked me for the number for the police, since that used to be one of my field areas for child abuse. I said, "911." Hey, my memory isn't that good!

She said she would call me back again.

She called after I returned from picking up my paint and home project supplies. She had called the police, who were able to intercept the couple and then considerately called her back. The girl claimed to be 19. My friend had said the girl had a Hello Kitty bag as part of her luggage.

At least my friend can sleep well tonight, knowing she did all she could. The police have seen the girl, have seen the guy, I assume they asked for ID and have a report down. At least Karen didn't have to do the paperwork.

We really, really hope the police called the girl's family to verify that she is 19 and not running around with her older sister's ID. Karen has a son who is 16, and she is much better than I am at guessing ages.

How many 19-year-old adults need to meet their much older boyfriends at the mall with their Hello Kitty luggage if nothing is wrong?

 

I killed for my daughter.

The child came over twice and help me paint. She didn't have all that much time, but I took all I could get. I am not refusing any reasonable offers. It turns out she does a decent final coat but on the primer coat she acted like she was on a clock and trying to beat it. That means I am now trying to cover some thick spots, some bald spots - I had hoped to get by with one coat of color paint in the living room, but it isn't going to happen. The dining room is done. Well, the patio door will need some semi-gloss on the molding. I will get to that later when I work on doors again.

While we were working to start the living room, she did the walls and ceiling in primer while I went along the bottom molding with a coat of primer and two of semi-gloss. Sometimes we ended up in the same spot. Somehow it was always my "fault." I was once asked if I know how to paint. She likes my habit of putting extra-wide aluminum foil in the paint pan, which makes for very fast clean up. She also likes to use every brush I have so I can be busy later washing them all.

We also had Gary here the first night she was here, but when I saw him I realized he was too tired to paint. I had him help me take the queen-sized bed we had put in the garage a few weeks ago up the stairs to the hallway so I will be able to put it in the child's former bedroom once I steam the carpet in there. Then we went to dinner.

Before he got here, child and I took a break out on my patio. We had two beers each and started to get a bit silly. Must have been the paint fumes.

The second night, when we were both painting in the same room, she suddenly jumped back with a high pitched screech that probably woke most of you up. I of course knew right away what the problem was. She was painting around the window and a spider appeared.

This child worked all night once and then went to emergency to have her stomach pumped, thinking she had food poisoning. She had her appendix out two hours later. She wants to be a surgeon and is looking forward to seeing how things work on the inside of people. She saw an autopsy being performed and was fascinated. She nearly totalled my car 11 days after she got her license and came home andfaced me without shaking (no injury to her). But one little tiny spider will reduce her to a helpless 2-year-old.

I just let her jump around, because I didn't want to mess up my paint job. She finally started threatening to leave without finishing her part of the job. I got up with a grunt, groan and sigh. (My knees are not happy with all this work I am doing.) I walked over to where she said the spider ran off. I asked what the problem was if he ran off, and she said she wanted to know where he is. Spiders are always "he," aren't they?

I looked around on the floor and stuck my foot over the poor, hapless little thing. I reminded her that house spiders eat other bugs and are a good thing.

She told me I had to grind and smear or she was out the door.

I sighed again, ground the thing to pieces, and smeared it on the drop cloth. She accused me of faking it.

Finally, she walked over and checked the corpse. She resumed painting, quietly. Me too.

Laughing inside my head doesn't count, does it?

I did not know I was lost

Getting things ready to move means I am running into things I haven't seen in years. Yesterday I found my Franklin Planner diary from 1995. I read through some pages, and then threw them out. Probably Mr Franklin doesn't approve, but I can't take everything with me, can I?

In those pages were some of my most fun times. I was working out at the gym almost every night, and making friends with a passel of gorgeous gay young men. The Barbie Dolls didn't want to make friends with me because I was older than them and didn't do my makeup and hair in the bathroom before working out. I went to the gym to get in shape, not to see how pretty I could look while standing around holding a water bottle. I did a lot of step classes, and ran into the same guys on a regular basis. In no time, we were out having dinner, lunch, going dancing at local gay bars, and having girl talks. One of them and I used to go to the mall and watch the guys walk by. He and I were pretty close friends for years. Another was quite young, and very charming. I ran into him while shopping for my first cruise. He held a dress up in front of himself in the store where he worked to show me how it would look on me. Once I stopped laughing, I told him he looked familiar. He agreed, and we realized we worked out together.

The second guy and I, Kris, used to run into each other every where. I couldn't go out without him showing up in the restaurant, trying to stick his tongue down my throat in front of my date. Whenever I went shopping, he would turn up. Once I was walking down the street after dinner in a nearby city and he came running out of a bar and started hugging me. I miss the guy, having not seen him in a few years. He was working on a degree in dental hygiene, the last I heard, and that was maybe 10 years ago.

About 11 pm last night my phone rang.

Hello?

Hey, Suz, how are you?

(hm, it's late, but he knows my name, so I probably know him, he sounds possibly gay, young, who could be looking me up and calling this late?)

Who is this? (I asked gently, hoping for a nudge in my memory)

Not telling you. But I used to work out with you, we went dancing at Menjo's, and I taught your daughter to cut pizza with scissors....

No way! Kris, is that YOU?

Yeah, Babe, what you been up to?

You are at my daughter's restaurant, aren't you?

Yes! Having drinks here with my boy - of five years!

You? The dirty boy? You have a long term boyfriend? (I couldn't hide the smile in my voice - I was so happy for him!)

Yes! I am cutting hair now at a new salon near you - I gave your daughter my card. We need to get together so you can meet my boy! Hey, I am 31 years old now! (0h, no way!) I programmed your number into my cell phone.

It was great to be found, even if I didn't know I was lost. I can't wait to see him!

I wonder if he can paint?

 

 

 

A ray of happiness

I have not fallen off the edge of the earth. I haven't even fallen off the wagon or the stepladder. I am just way too busy with painting and getting my house ready. It is taking longer than I had feared. Pretty much I start at 9 am and finish up about 11 pm. I work slowly but carefully. That is good when writing reports for court, not not so helpful in my current situation. Perfectionism and time frames are not a good marriage.

On Monday, I had a second realtor out and I told her I would have it all done by this coming Monday. She said I am "ambitious." I think there is another word for it. It sort of rhymes with Vanity.

I had two 4-drawer dressers in my basement that I was keeping for the Child. They were given to me, and I didn't want them, but she is always scrounging for furniture so I accepted them for her. She doesn't seem to want them, so I had to drag them up two flights of stairs and out to the curb. By myself. The good news is I didn't have to worry about damaging them. I took the old axe out too. I have worried for years that the next time I cut down a tree that the handle was going to fly off the axe. I hate to see it go; we had some good times together.

Child has been advised that anything of hers not out of my house by next Tuesday, which is Garbage Eve, will hit the curb. She said she understood. Really, I don't mind keeping a few things for her. I have more storage space than she does. But it's in piles, not bins, and I can't have it here when my house is being shown.

In the midst of all of this confusion and paint, I still manage to see my former co-worker every week for lunch. It has been something we have been doing since we were still kidnapping children for a career. She has moved on to a slightly different field. Now she goes after children who are truant. We have been having lunch once a week for maybe 7 years or so.

We both like shoes and purses. Jackets, too. I took her a brown Coach purse that I bought a few years ago and just never was happy with. She has the matching wallet (by accident) so after having cleaned out my purse collection, I took it to her this week.

She was very excited to get it.She had forgotten I even had it, since I haven't used it in a long time and only ever really carried it for a week or two. She was fondling it in the restaurant with a look of glee on her face. It made me happy to make her happy. The purse is probably happy to be re-homed where it can get the attention it deserves.

If I could have taught it to paint, I would have kept it no matter who else was happy.

Number eleven

Sometimes I go to Lowe's, sometimes to Home Depot, but my favorite hardware store is a small local one I have been going to for 30 years. The first time I went in there as a single woman after my divorce I had to get some parts for electrical work. I am very bad at labels and technical terminology, but I took in an old part and asked for another one like it. They were very good with me. No one said, "Well, just have your husband come in," like other stores had treated me through the previous years. They actually acted like I knew what I was doing and if I needed help, they were there to provide it. They convinced me at another time that I could replace a sump pump myself while standing in several inches of water in my basement. I had to plug it in while standing in water. I haven't been afraid of learning new household repairs since. Watching the basement drain put a huge smile on my face.

The hardware store is located in a small strip mall. There is a little deli in there that I have never had a chance to go to. I am not sure why, since it's half a mile away and within easy walking distance. But I had never made it in until last week. I had just finished teaching a class without having had lunch firs. I was hungry, tired, crabby, and needed parts at the hardware before I could go home. The MiniVampire just could not manage unless I brought home a laser level. As if I needed any more tools.

So I stopped at the deli, put in my order, went to the hardware, and went back for my food. I ate the sandwich in the car, even though I only had to go half a mile home. It was roast beef. It was very, very rare.

I returned this week after a class since again I forgot to eat first. I told them that I had been there the week before and had a roast beef sandwich and that it had been very, very rare.

The guy behind the counter started to stammer. Uh, well, gee...hm.....

Then I said, "It was one of the best sandwiches I ever had. I want another."

His smile was priceless.

Ten good things

Ten good things for this week:

1. I cleared out the demonchild's room to be able to repair and paint. That was not an easy feat!

2. The MiniVampire is done here and won't be back. He did manage to get the last laugh, although it might be because he is European. I swore that he put the laundry tub hoses on backwards, as the rinse water was hotter than it used to be. Then I was trying to clean a paint brush with hot water and it never warmed up. As I was worrying about my hot water heater, it hit me. He put the cold on the left and the hot on the right, in European fashion.

3. I was able to make the second deposit on the condo without having to sell my body or soul.

4. Molly's health has held through all these changes in my home. Pets get upset if you move one chair two inches, so this is a miracle in itself that she has been doing so well.

5. My income tax refunds have come, which might help me get the kitchen cupboard upgrades I want.

6. Spring might make it yet, but we had snow this morning again! I do see buds on my forsythia and lilac bushes, so spring should be coming along, always later than every where else.

7. I am very grateful that I had the foresight to stay in a lousy paying job that just about killed me for so long because I now have medical insurance for life. I knew I wanted that lifetime benefit, but did not realize it would become so valuable.

8. I have some very awesome friends. Two have come to help me out a bit here, and both say they are coming back later this week. Others meet me for lunch and cheer me on. Most of my friends are married women who don't paint at home, as their husbands and/or sons do it for them.

9. The Vampire is keeping my back and shoulders moving enough so I can continue to abuse my body. I see physical therapy in my future again, but I am hoping to forestall it until after I move. I can still walk, after all. Geez.

10. With all this trudging up and down stairs and dragging ladders around, moving furniture in and out of rooms, skipping meals, etc, I have lost all of three pounds. Pitiful, isn't it?

I am afraid that this week's list was difficult to write out - it was not a great week for me. Last night I had a nightmare that involved someone breaking into my new home, and me hiding in a corner with a cell phone, calling for help - and not remembering the name of my new street. Twice in that dream I called for help and wasn't able to get it. Also, a second person was someone I thought I could trust, which led to the second call. I guess I am not feeling a lot of trust going on right now? On a good note, I did get away both times. I had just been nightmare free for a long time. I hope this was an anomaly. My nightmares are graphic and violent, utterly terrifying. I was delighted when I was finally able to end them.

 

It's the house with the mattress out front.

Let's just say that the MiniVampire was too good to be true. I may or may not be writing an entry on that situation later. It's not over yet, and he may redeem himself, although my hopes are not pinned on any stars right now. I was quite disappointed in the whole thing.

Once the Child and I were driving home from a new hair salon. This was maybe two years ago or less. Our route took us right through downtown Pontiac. Pontiac is the home of some of Michigan's major sports teams. It's a very old city and much smaller than Detroit. It's not a very charming place to be, although there is some very interesting architecture. Some of the downtown buildings have gargoyles.

As we were about to hit the freeway, Child asked me about some of the really crappy looking houses. I told her not everyone is as fortunate as she has been. She gazed out the window some more. Child has always had the ability to sit in a car and gaze out the windows for tremendous amounts of time. I have seen her do it for 17 hours on car trips to a beach house in North Carolina. She never asks when we will get there or for a bathroom break. She just looks and occasionally naps.

After looking for a while, she turned to me and said, "But mom. When was the last time we ever even dealt with the issue of old bathtubs hanging around in the back yard?"

Of course, I had no answer for that one.

Today I have a mattress in my front yard, though. It's down at the curb, waiting for garbage eve. I am shameless this week. I had a little help yesterday, and I took advantage. My friend whom I walk with, the one who is always late, decided she would come help me instead of us going walking. She will do anything to get out of walking, but as I said, this week I am shameless.

She showed up an hour late and we started to move things out of Child's old room. I decided to trash the daybed, since Child had smashed it or kicked it against the wall too many times and it just wasn't usable any more. We cleared it out after disassembling it and took it to the street.

We spent most of the rest of the time with her trying to peel some of the glow in the dark stars off the ceiling while I worked to spackle the punched in door, the kicked in wall, and various holes from whatever had been hung in there. The mirror bifold doors will be trashed next. Maybe I can even get them out tomorrow if I am lucky. Child smashed the mirror on one and the track is bent all out of whack. The handle on one side is all bent. She refuses to tell me how those things happened, but I suspect it was the same day the light fixture was smashed. I have to replace that, too.

In the meantime, the MiniVampire managed to sort of paint two rooms out of what he was going to do. He brought a helper who one day painted half the family room ceiling in white ceiling paint and half with my white-semi-gloss that I have for trim work. Sure was shiny. Sure isn't all fixed yet.

I lost a week of painting time because I expected the rest of my house to be painted. Now I have all of four rooms almost painted and done, but not entirely finished. One just needs the closet door rehung and the doorknob put back on. That is one of the rooms I did. I have maybe a dozen rooms here. I don't want to count them.

The floor is laid in the kitchen and laundry room. It looks nice. However, I can't replace the laundry room closet door because the hole that is drilled into the slab floor has been covered up with the new flooring. And so it goes.

Today I gave more money to the condo people and had a realtor out to see my current house. It's a mess right now, but I told him that I don't have a wife to clean up after I do the Man Work, and I can't do both at once. I think he understood, or as well as a man who has probably been married for 30 years can understand.

I either want this all over or to just go away.