Yeah. Not so much.

Basically, what it's come down to, is working with Blogger or Wordpress. And wordpress won. It's just a much more versatile blogging platform. So, even though I only just started this one, I'm closing it down.

On the bright side, all the information here is mirrored at the other site. In fact, I have transferred all of my old posts (from my world travels and before) to their final location. I really don't see me moving my blog anymore, now that it's on my very own website. So, I do apologize for sending you all over the webosphere, but I think I've finally settled down.

Final blog location is www.whatisthegreatexperiment.com/banquet. I hope to see you there. :)

Peace.

Other People's Business

Wow. Stuff has happened. And when I say “Stuff,” it's with the capital S. It is not my Stuff, so I am not at liberty to say what happened, nor to whom. However, what I can say is that the offending party is a child, an idiot and a selfish sunamabitch. (From now on, we shall refer to the selfish sunamabitch as The Idiot, because it's easier to type and it REALLY applies. And “Troglodyte Child” is just far too complimentary.)

This Stuff is a pretty big thing for me, even though it's not happening TO me, and so most of my energy outside of caretaking for Pop is currently directed towards offering support for my friend, and trying to figure out what the blankety-blank was going on in the mind of The Idiot that they would handle things so poorly. Then again, after applying a moniker like The Idiot, I should stop trying to figure out how they think, because obviously, they're not thinking. If they WERE thinking, they wouldn't have pulled half of the nonsense they did. (And yes, I am playing the pronoun game as a way to protect identities, not because I don't know my English grammar.)

I am absolutely furious that anyone, ANYONE would treat my friend the way that The Idiot has, and I very much want to lash out. However, what I need to remember is that as much as my friend is grieving over this painful situation, it is something that they chose to go through, and that they are learning a LOT about life through this experience. In that respect, this is turning out to be a Very Useful Experience. Also, Law of Attraction states that the more I focus on The Idiot's foul behavior, the more I draw people like that into my life, and I really don't need any of that at the moment.

So, I am letting go. I am supportive of my friend, and helping them take as many lessons from this experience as they can handle, and the rest I let go. It's not my shite to deal with, so there's no need for me to call it to myself.

And honestly, since Saturday (when this all began), my friend has been dealing with all of it admirably well, getting stronger and more self-assured with each passing hour. I am very proud of them. (GAH! I hate the pronoun game. It is so clumsy.)

But the point of all this, is that outside of this drama, there is very little going on in my life that doesn't take place at the conversational level of a two-year-old. So this is much more interesting to talk about... And I'm turning into a gossip. Blech.

Hmm. I really need something to capture my interest... that or I need to get out more.

Speaking of getting out more, today at the library, one of the full-time staff members expressed a wish that I could work there at the very least part-time. I am not adverse to getting paid to do what I'm doing. I only wish I had the hours. BUT this does bode well for the someday when I will need to have an income again. :)

Anyway, yeah. That's me.

Peace.

I Am Truly Blessed

So, the other day I was telling Blade my Tale Of Woe about how I couldn't go see Batman... and tears were streaming down my face. Mebbe, I thought, Just mebbe this is a bigger deal than I originally thought. I should Do Something. So I called a friend and basically arranged it so that I could go see Batman today. And all is right with the world. :)

It was good. I am grateful I was able to go. It was also very dark and intense. And I think I like it more, now that it has settled into my bones.

After the movie, I had enough time to fill up my gas tank and then book it back home.

From the time I left the gas station, I have been fielding phone calls. (Actually, my first phone call-- not counting my sister calling right at midnight-- was at 11:00 this morning.) When I got home, I found a gazillion emails and birthday cards and wishes. And I've been on the phone ever since. I guess it's a good thing I didn't plan on much more than a movie. ;)

Oh, yeah. I feel the love. I have the most amazingest, awesomest (like a hotdog!) friends and family. You made my day. No, really.

Thank you.

And now, I leave you with this thought for the day, because it's Muppets, I just discovered it today, and I just can't resist.



Peace and love.

Awesome Hotdogs

I've been dreading this week. Not so much for the getting a year older thing. Actually, that part I generally look forward to. Like a fine wine, I think I'm better as I age. No, the reason I've been dreading this week is... Friday. I've already posted about how I'm not going to be able to be able to celebrate the birthday properly (on the day of), and what it comes down to, is that most days I don't mind being alone-ish. But I don't like being alone on my birthday. I don't like having nothing to do, no one to see and nowhere to be. It's not just my birthday, really. Holidays in general. I don't want to be alone on a day that should be celebrated.

This last weekend, I had a royal pity party for myself. All I was missing was the crown. ;) I even started feeling sorry for myself about the winter holidays. The LAST thing I want to do is spend this coming December the same way I did the last-- worrying over/waiting for Pop to recover from surgery and pining away for family all of whom (with the exception of Pop, of course) are in other states, if not another country. And here's me, tied to this house, unable to get away. Honestly, I doubt that any of them will be able to make it this year either. Oh, yes. This last weekend, I put myself in a fine funk.

And you know what? Something good did come out of it. (Whodathunkit?) I realized that thinking like that will only bring on more of the same, so I decided to change my thinking. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decided to do something to improve my situation.

Well, there's not much I can do about throwing myself a birthday party this year. It's a bit late. And truly, Saturday will be absolutely wonderful, getting to spend time with almost all of my favorite east coast people, so I don't REALLY have room to complain anyway. And as for the winter holidays, I am going to surround myself with as many of my friends as I possibly can. And to give me something to look forward to, I'm going to throw a small, intimate Yule party for my nearest and dearest. I may not be able to see all my family, but it doesn't mean that I can't feel the love.

Also, when I spoke to my sister the other day, I told her it was of the utmost importance that she call me on Friday. And she promised she would.

AND THEN!!! My super genius Daddy and Stepmom sent me an early birfday pressie: an awesome (like a hotdog) bread machine!!!! SQUEEEE!!!! I'm making my very first loaf right now: French bread. It won't be baguette, because it's in the wrong shape, but it should taste the same. OMG! Excited am I. (Have I mentioned excited?)

And today, I did my first stint as a volunteer at the library. Organizing the SciFi/Fantasy books = fun. People are lazy and put stuff in the wrong places, BUT I found a bunch of books I wanna read... when I'm done with what I'm reading right now.

Organizing the children's reference section = not so fun. Besides the fact that small children have NO CONCEPT of filing/putting things in order, I didn't find any books I wanted to read there. Started at the end and worked my way up, so when I left, I was still sifting through American history and forms of terrorism. I kid you not. Even so, it was incredibly fulfilling to see what a mess it started out as, and how tidy I was able to get my one little section. Although, I will say this: I need to start doing Yoga again.

So, oddly enough, I would say this week is off to a far better start than I expected. And as soon as I gets me my Frrrrrench Brrrrread, I'm gonna go have toast and jam!

OMG! My bread machine even has a setting to make jams and preserves! And BAGELS!@!!! (Not at the same time, but I hear that's coming in a later model.)

And now, I leave you with this thought for the day:



Peace.

Rainman Needs a Holiday

Yeah, I'm noticing this whole “getting out in the real world” is becoming really important. The other day, I made a dash to the store in the middle of the night, while talking to Daddy. After a while, he had to go and got off the phone, but I kept talking. I became that crazy lady roaming the aisles of Volde-Mart at 1:00AM talking to herself-- and not in the funny way. It freaked me out enough that I called Castle, knowing he'd still be up, just so that I could have someone responding to me, because I couldn't stop talking.

Yes, getting around people who can hold down a conversation (that doesn't loop every 15 seconds, thankyouverymuch) is starting to become important. Definitely. Definitely important. Definitely. Definitely. /typed-Rainman-impression YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN?!

As you probably know, I have been fightingworking with the Veteran's Association since mid-February, trying to get a homemaker to come in and give me some relief from caring for The Mad Cow, day in and day out. And as of 2 weeks ago, they finally came through (with a little nudge from Senator Rockefeller and Congresswoman Capito). All of a sudden, I went from 6 hours a week total to 4 hours, 5 times a week. TWENTY hours, to do grocery shopping, visit with friends and just be out of the house. HEAVEN! Mebbe I'll even start finding my sanity again. I'm fairly certain I left it under a rock somewhere...

The problem is, my friends are working during the majority of those hours. And grocery shopping takes me about 2 hours, if I reeeeally stretch it. And, due to poor timing on the part of the theaters, I can't really go see a movie. It has sort of left me wondering what the Hell I'm supposed to be doing with all this lovely free time? Something where I'm not spending money (because, hello! I don't have an income) and where I'm out of the house, but not driving up to Parkersburg every day. Actually, Parkersburg would be a non-issue if it weren't for the prohibitive cost of gas, and, well, lack of income.

Hmm, lack of income, plenty of time on my hands... At first I thought I could get a part time job! Except, that I would have to figure in commute time, because I LEAVE the house at 2:00, I can't BE at work at 2:00. And I can't work overtime. And I still need SOME time for shopping, or running up to Pburg for SOME necessities... and most offices in the area close by 5:00 (if I'm lucky), so I've got somewhere between 7.5 and 10 hours that I can work. Hmmm. Like anyone would waste time training me in their office to do 7.5-10 hours of work over 3-4 days in a week. GAH!

But I still needed something to do. Next thought: community service. So I went to my local library. Turns out they're desperate for volunteers. In fact, they're even hiring part timers right now (to the tune of 20-30 hours/week, so I still can't do it, but it's nice to know!). And I volunteered. Starting Tuesday (cuz Monday is grocery day), I get to put all of the sci-fi/fantasy books in alpha order. I'm realizing that to some people, that might sound downright dull, but I'm excited. I'll get to work IN A LIBRARY, in the SCI-FI section, and I'll be able to soothe that weird part of me that loves to put things in order (except in my bedroom). And there will be people there whose conversations don't loop every 15 seconds! I might even get to talk to one of them. OooooOOOOOooooh!

So, yeah. I'm volunteering to work in the library, and I couldn't be happier. Oh! And if I can get my bike fixed, I could even ride there every day. OoOOOOOoooooh! Built in exercise!

So, once that starts, I might go back to my regular conversations with myself, instead of the freaky ones. I'm excited.

Peace.

When Is the Proper Time for a Gala?

I have been handed a sacred duty. West Coast BFF (aka Arcana) is getting married and has asked me to be a bridesmaid. I'm so honored and excited to be able to fulfill this role. :) A lot of girls think being a bridesmaid is simply wearing a dress and standing next to the bride on the Big Day, but it's so much more. You become a confidante, emotional support, a sounding board, a resource and a member of the team in charge of stress relief for one very special, frazzled lady. It's a big job, and I'm honored to have been asked.

The uniform representing this sacred duty should be fairly easy to find, since in this case there are just very simple instructions: an all-black cocktail dress, knee length. Beyond that, I can choose whatever dress I want. I'm really grateful she's chosen to go this route, because all of the bridesmaids have different body shapes, tastes and, well, budgets. This way, we can each wear what suits our own personalities the best. Plus, it also means we don't have wear some cookie-cutter design from David's Bridal. (I really don't like their dresses for plus sizes, mostly because I'm not flat as a board!)

I'll admit that when Arcana first told me this, I was apprehensive. I mean, I don't live in Los Angeles anymore. I don't think there are even any stores around here that carry just formal wear... except David's Bridal. (Have I mentioned I don't like them?) Little flickers of panic started dancing in the back of my brain, but I shushed them, thinking instead, of how awesome I will look when I'm wearing The Perfect Dress, and how I will be able to stand proudly at her side (or wherever she puts me) on her Big Day.

Right, I thought. I'd better get started early. The way I figured it, I had two options: shopping online or in person. Hmm... challenging choice. On the one hand, I don't like buying clothing over the Interwebby. I'm not good at eyeballing clothing from a 2x3 picture to tell if it is appropriate and if it'll fit me. The descriptions never tell you what the material feels like, and they almost never offer anything that would fit both my waist and my boobs. And quite honestly, I don't want to be throwing money into shipping (and possibly return shipping.) I want my dress in hand the day I pay for it. With sleeves. And a design that will look good on MY body type. (I'm so picky, huh? Well, dammit, this is for a special event. If I've been given free reign to look good, then I want to Look Good.)

The other option is to Go Shopping. Yeah... See, I live in West Virginia. And while I live smack-dab between the first and third largest cities in the state, that's really not saying much. At all. Today, I went up to Parkersburg (3rd largest), and visited numerous department stores, only to be told every single time, “Formal wear? Prom season's over. You can check the clearance rack, but I don't think there's anything left in your size.” They were right. There wasn't.

I felt myself starting to revert back about 10 years, to a time before my ex-husband showed me how to go clothes shopping. (Yes, that's right. I was SO BAD at shopping for clothes, I needed a man to show me how to do it properly. Granted he was raised by a single Mom, but still.) It wasn't that my taste had reverted, just an awful doom-of-ugly-clothing despair was rising in my throat. I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or throw up. This was even worse than trying on every dress in the store and not fitting into any of them. There weren't any dresses left for me to try on!

As a last resort, I went to Lane Bryant (the fat lady store) to see if they either carry something I could use (they don't) or if any of the sales girls had ideas on where I could go instead. They suggested their website (of course) and David's Bridal. -sigh-

You know, there are a ton of stores back in LA that I could wander into, and they'd have exactly what I'm looking for. Grrrr.

Anyway, I walked out of that last store, my eyes glistening. If only, I thought. If only I knew someone who can sew, so that I can tell them what I want my dress to look like and then... Waitaminute. I know how to sew.

That's right! There is a third option! We (Americans) never think about it anymore, because we are so used to just buying things off the shelf, but it is possible for me to make my own dress, to my size, with my specifications, and I can get exactly what I want. Now, I am by no means an expert seamstress, but I have made my own formal wear before, and not to toot my own horn or anything, but people were impressed with A) my dress and B) the fact that I made it myself. And, as I always say, if I've done it once, I can do it again.

With that thought in mind, I dashed off to my local fabric store and within an hour, I had two designs picked out. One of them is even a VINTAGE design from the 1950s, when designers were still making clothing for women with CURVES!!! The other one, to be blunt, will be easier for me to make.

LOL In one moment's flash of inspiration, I went from having NO OPTIONS to too many!

I have to admit, I'm a little nervous about making a dress for myself, but I think I can pull it off. For one thing, I've got time. For another, before I cut an INCH from whatever fabric I choose, I'm going to make a muslin, which means I'm going to cut out and sew the entire dress in a thin, cheap cotton, just to make sure it fits properly. Then, when the muslin is fitted perfectly, I'll take it apart, and use THOSE pieces as my pattern.

Okay, yeah. I'm nervous, but I'm really excited! This is the kind of thing you read about in Regency Romances... having a dress tailor-made to your own body!

So, yeah. Problem solved. :)

... It just makes me wonder. I mean, I know there are wealthy people out here-- folks who would have a reason to wear formal wear: politicians (state capital, hello!), mine & factory owners and who knows what else. So, when all these fine folk decide to get together and have a shindig, do they only hold their galas during Prom season?

Peace.

Well: A Deep Topic

Today was light and lovely. The Mad Cow decided to take a “nap” in his own bed this morning, which meant that I got to sleep in mine for most of my sleep cycle. And I woke up feeling really good! :) (Usually, I sleep on the couch for most of my “night” to make sure I hear it when he decides to caper around the house.)

Fae (Pop's new homemaker/assisty person) came by a bit early-- calling beforehand to make sure it was okay-- so that had me in a bit of a last minute rush, but really, I didn't mind. Ah, the wonders of a good “night's” sleep. :)

I tried to get the oil changed for the car, but the garage was full today, so they pencilled me in for tomorrow. And that put the kibosh on my plans (oil change, then hang out in the library and reeeeead), so I drove up to Parkersburg (because I CAN!) and read in the coffee shop in Borders for a few hours. I might have bought the latest C. E. Murphy book, too.

Somewhere in there, the weather went from a sweltering 90+F and humid, to 70F and thunderstorms. In, like, five minutes. Sitting in the large bookstore, I could hear the rain pelting the rooftop over their piped music. At first it was like the heavens opened and dumped. By the time I had to leave, it had slacked, but it was still raining fairly heavy. But it was a warm rain, so I didn't mind at all walking through it to get to my car. In fact, it was rather sensuous.

When I got home, Fae reported-- surprised-- that Pop slept most of the day. I guess that means he's decided she's no longer Company, as he would never sleep in front of Company. Probably the bath had something to do with that.

After that, we had a very quiet evening, where Pop watched TV really, really loud, and I finished reading Eloisa James's Duchess by Night, which was delightful! I wish Mom was still around. I know she'd have liked this one. Regency romance, at its best.

Well, it's time to take out the trash, clean the kitchen and head to bed. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll be able to stay there most of tonight too!

Peace.

Outta My Hands

Well, I filed my very first police report today, seeing as how Vicodin is a controlled substance and all. The officer was very nice, and thought of a couple suspects I hadn't originally considered. He doesn't think someone just broke into the house to steal the meds, because they would have take the whole bottle and not left any behind. That's a relief, because it means the neighborhood hasn't completely imploded, but it also means the thief was someone who had access to the house, which is infinitely sad.

In the meantime, I've done what I can. I have locked away ALL of his drugs where only I know where they are. It's sad that I have to do this, but until this is resolved, I don't want anything else going missing. And just in case, I'm making double-extra sure the house is locked down before going to bed. (Very sad day. I feel like I'm back in Los Angeles.)

On the bright side, I had my second jaunt out into the Real World. Very exciting. I can see myself running out of stuff to do pretty quick, though. It's a bummer the local library closes at 5.

And I did the math. It looks like I will NOT be able to go see Batman for my birthday after all-- at least, not easily. It runs too long, and I won't be able to get back to the house in time. Besides, Castle requested the day off of work so he could come with me, and his work denied him. Poo. I COULD go alone (and will probably have to), but it's much more fun to go with someone. I'm not giving up, though. I really, really, really wanna see it. So, I'll figure something out. I've been planning to go since they first announced it was coming out on my birthday-- back when I was still working for Expedia.

So, yeah. That's me in a nutshell. Off to bed.

Peace.

My Poor Apple Tree (and Other Yard News)

There's an apple tree outside my bedroom window. Sometime earlier this year, I noticed that one of the branches has been reaching out into the neighbor's yard-- directly over their power cables. Not good. So, I've been trying to figure out what to do about it-- obviously, that branch needed to be hacked, but with something so delicate, I didn't think this would be a good time for me to learn. I mean, if I f'd up, the neighbors would no longer have power. Not good.

The other day while I was talking with Ro's husband, Cutter, who has been helping me revamp the yard, he noticed that the tree has split in half near the base. You know that branch hanging over the neighbor's wires? Yeah... Apparently, all it would take is a stiff wind in the right direction to not only bring down that branch, but half the damn tree.

Today, Cutter broke out the chain-saw and tar, and we put our heads together on exactly how to surgically remove the part that looked ready to break off. While we were examining the tree, we noticed that the tree had been split once before-- there was a big hole near the base-- and was literally rotting from the inside out. On closer examination, we found what looks like two separate trunks that grew together. One of them was completely rotten, and the other still had its trunk fully intact. At first, Cutter thought we could just remove the rotten one altogether, but because they had grown together, the healthy one was still leaning on what was left of the dead one.

In the end, Cutter removed what he could of the dead half, tarred what was still alive, and scooped out (with BARE HANDS, mind) most of the rotten wood.

Of course, I didn't think to take Before pictures. That would imply that I know what I'm doing. But here are the After pictures.

So, here's what my apple tree looks like now:


Close up of where it was cut. Notice the trunk itself had started to rot through.


Innards we scooped out with bare hands...


This half seems to still be healthy with a full trunk wrapping around it, even inside...


Here's what's left of the dead half. Anyone want some apple wood? I hear it's really good for cookouts. Fragrant.


In other news, I've had some work done on the lawn. Most of it was upkeep that should have been done years ago, but wasn't because A) Pop stopped being capable some time ago and B) because I didn't know it was needed until I started looking.

The brick flower box on the front porch was caving out. Once again, no Before photo. Here's how he replaced it with treated wood:


Cutter gave me some Marigolds from the store to put in the planter, and then I planted a bunch from seed. I think you can tell the difference.


Grandma had a rose bush here, right next to the driveway. Riiight where a passenger would get out of the car and get caught on the thorns. Honestly, I don't know WHY she planted it there. As a kid, I got caught/cut on that thing so many times.


Cutter helped me transplant it. No blooms right now. I think it's having some culture shock from being moved.


He also gave me a baby pumpkin that was randomly growing in his yard-- from the seeds from last year's pumpkins when the kids did jack-o-lanterns. It's still getting used to its new home and putting it's roots back down, but soon it'll be sending vines all OVER the bed!


And! Gratuitous shot of my foxglove. Again, planted by seed by me, last year and FINALLY! this year starting to grow. Hmm. Mebbe next year I'll get even more?


Another thing Cutter helped me with was to get rid of a bunch of (ugly) bushes my grandma-- or mebbe Pop?-- had planted in front of the house. Perhaps at one time they had been well shaped and purposeful, but now... they're history! Instead, Cutter got some (free!!!) lilac cuttings from his neighbor and planted them under both windows and between! Next year, when winter has finally passed and we can open the windows, we'll be smelling lilacs! You can also see the placement of my foxglove and pumpkin, as well as the recycled stones from the old front porch planter now used to line a flower bed!


And since we're on the topic of growing things, let me show you an update on my garden! :) But I'm not excited or anything. Heh.

I've got lots of corn. This is not “corn on the cob” corn-- not even popcorn, but the kind that you see hung on people's doors for Thanksgiving-- the multi-brown kind. Much better for grinding into cornmeal than eating straight. Apparently it has a lovely, nutty flavor. Can't WAIT to find out!




Here's my one sunflower! And more corn.


The tomatoes have finally started coming up. I'm going to have to stake them soon, so that they don't fall over and rot.


And some beans are showing up. I have no idea what kind.


My cabbages are starting to form heads! I hope I don't find any babies in there, but if I do, I'm sure they'll have a tattoo of Xavier Roberts on their butts.


And my lettuces are fully formed.


Check it out! Three heads growing together.


And finally, there's a Thing growing next to my grapevine. I don't know WTF it is, but it's already taller than me. Any thoughts?


Anyways, yay for my garden! You know, back when I started my Great Experiment, one of the things I wanted was lots of lovely plants for the faeries to play in. I think we're getting close, eh? :)

Peace.

What the #$@% ?!

Pop is missing over 75 pills. Vicodin and Zoloft - both potentially recreational, and worth some money on the black market. I have my suspicions of who did it, but for a couple of reasons, I can't outright confront them. For one thing, it's just suspicion. I have no proof. And there are other reasons, that I don't want to go into here.

I'm just boggled that someone-- ANYONE-- would steal pain medication from an old man. Seriously. What. The. F.

Wishing for some...

Peace.

An Odd Day

I suppose today started out last night (this morning?) around 1am when the Mad Cow started moaning. That in and of itself is nothing new. I've taken to calling it his “pee noise” cuz usually when he makes it, well, you get the idea. This morning, however, when I went to check on him, he said he was hurting, “right here,” and started rubbing over his heart. Ok, that is scary, and when you add to it that he can almost NEVER identify A) that he is IN pain and B) where the pain is, well, I freaked out.

After a quick chat with Daddy, I took him to the local hospital, where they poked and prodded him and after 2 hours, announced that it wasn't a heart attack, he can go home and follow up with his regular doctor, but if he complains again, to bring him back right away. Dammit, it's so hard to tell if he's crying wolf. Or mebbe he had indigestion, which can cause pain in that area. Or mebbe it was something else entirely! Or or or... Bah!

I got him to bed around 4 and we both crashed. Ro came in around 7, fed him and got him ready for the day, and left us both sleeping in the living room (because it's easier for me to sleep/keep an eye on him from the couch while he's in his lift chair). Maybe a half an hour after Ro left, he stood up and announced that he was going to bed. “You can't go to bed, because... um... Hellz, let's BOTH go to bed.”

So we did, and we both slept until 2. With NO interruptions. Usually the only way that happens is if I have to drug him.

I haven't slept so well since... well, since the last time he was in the hospital.

Anyway, when I woke up, I decided I wanted a cinnamon bun. Now, one of the ways that I am controlling my junk-food intake is to make my own. If I want cookies, I've stopped buying them in boxes. I tell myself at the store that the cookies I make taste better than what I can buy (very true), AND I know exactly what's in them. No high fructose corn syrup, no weird partially hydrogenated soy thingees or MSG (now legally shown on most product labels as “natural flavorings” or “spices.”) Just regular old flour, eggs and sugar. And cinnamon. I really like cinnamon. Now there's a natural flavoring and spice.

What this all came down to was that I had a choice: bake my own cinnamon buns or go without. Usually, the lazy side wins, but today, like I said, I wanted them. This meant venturing once more into the wild world of Yeast. This was my second attempt on my own, the first being the ill-fated English Muffin LumpLoaf. I was a bit nervous, but I think I figured out where I went wrong last time, so I was up for the challenge.

I had originally planned for cimamum bun as breakfast-- it even said in the recipe if you wake up early you can do it-- until I read the part about “let it rise for 2 hours.” HA! So after heating up Pop's lunch, I grabbed the first thing I could find for my breakfast, which turned out to be leftovers from last night's supper: a salad from my garden. That's right. I ate SALAD for breakfast. Who's proud of me?

Long story short, today, I learned two things: how to work with yeast to prevent future Lumpsfailures AND that I make killer cimamum rolls.

I also got a bitch of an attack of carpel tunnel. Same areas of the hand that my mom used to get it too. It's one of the reasons she stopped baking, except with a bread maker. As Arcana would say, “Poo.”

Overall, between lots of sleep and cimamum buns (YUM!) it's been a good day, even if it did rain and I didn't get to see any fireworks to celebrate that we're not British. Then again, knowing me, that's not something I celebrate, but yanno. I still like pretty-pretty esplodies. Oh, yeah. And Serenity and I spent about an hour looking at all the hotties in kilts here. Yes, Gerard Butler is in there. Score!

Anyway, yeah. Good times.

Peace.

You Know, I WOULD Like Some Cheese with this Whine

Sorry folks. I'm a-gonna vent. Is the world coming down around my shoulders? No. Am I supremely unhappy and wish things would change? No. I'm just letting off some steam from THIS DAY.

First off, DAMN I wish people would stop calling in the morning, no matter HOW good their intentions are. (Okay, so I wish SOME things would change.)

Secondly, I wish I had set my fucking alarm for 11:30 AM instead of PM, so I would have gotten up with enough time to shower, eat, feed the Mad Cow and feel refreshed. As it was, I woke up 10 minutes before the homemaker's administrator was supposed to be here. That's right. After 5 months of begging, pleading, and calling on the aid of my US Senators, the VA FINALLY came through and found a babysitter to help me out with Pop. We were supposed to set up the paperwork today... 10 minutes after I woke up. Had enough time to grab a nectarine for brekkie, throw clothes on and have Mad Cow sitting at the table starting lunch.

But the administrator didn't get here when she said she would; she got here a half hour late thanks to following the Mapquest directions INSTEAD of the ones I gave her when she called. (In the morning.) We did our little paperwork dance, and I answered the SAME QUESTIONS people have been asking me about Pop SINCE FEBRUARY (do these people not take notes or do they just not share them with anyone else?) and Pop is now officially ready to have a homemaker come in and babysit for 4 hours, 5 days a week.

Once the paperwork was done, we waited on the homemaker, who was supposed to be here by 1:30, but she too was late. Finally, when the homemaker didn't come after half an hour, the administrator called her at home, and she said she didn't know she was supposed to be here today, and won't be available in the afternoons until THURSDAY.

The good news is, starting Thursday, I will have a babysitter for Pop. The bad news is, they don't work on federal holidays, so the next time she comes after that will be Monday. Still, I am INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL.

By this time, I was awake. With nothing better to do and no way to go anywhere, I puttered around the house for a bit, spoke with Morticia on the phone, finally realized that I was rank, and hopped in the shower. See, the shower is a useful tool to get clean, but it is also when I center myself for the day. It is sacred time for me. Of course, as soon as I was soaking wet, Mad Cow decided he had to pee. NOW. So I got back out of the shower, helped him do his thing and get settled, and THEN finished my shower.

Right as I was drying off, the dogs started going crazy in the front room. Wouldn't you know it? Pop's in-home nurse had come early. Okay, truth be told, I was so busy remembering that the administrator was coming early that I entirely forgot the nurse would be here at all. Whoopsies. I let her in, and ran to the bed room to put clothes on. She did her thing and left fairly quickly, and finally, there were no more responsibilities.

I took a nap. And woke up from healing slumber to the sound of Mad Cow grabbing the telephone receiver from his chair.

Me-Pop, who are you calling?
MC-I don't know.
Me-What are you doing with the phone?
MC-I don't know.
Me-Does anyone else feel like they're stuck in the middle of a Bill Cosby routine?
MC-Huh?
Me-Never mind. Just, can you hang up the phone?
MC-Well, help me up.
Me-You don't need to stand up. Just hang up the phone.
MC-I'm getting up.
Me-Don't GET up; HANG up.
MC- [dumps blanket on floor, preparing to stand ]

I got cranky. Hopped off the couch, grabbed the receiver from his hand, hung up, slapped his blanket back on him and realized OW. Headache. Bad one.

Tried to lie back down, but OW. Light in my eyes. Everywhere. Felt like an ice pick through the eyeball and on into the rest of the head.

Ended up taking some Motrin, drinking some water and trying to eat, but until it all kicked in, the headache was hurting so bad I thought I was going to vomit. (I didn't.) All I wanted to do was sit on the toilet and hold my head. (I did.) Until I heard the damn lift chair going again.

By the time I caught up to him, he was standing (if you can call it standing-- more like wavering) over the sink in the kitchen, with a peach in one hand and a-- Good Gods, he's got a KNIFE! [enter crankiness x2 ] Took away the peach AND the knife and sat him down. He didn't WANT to sit down, but he did anyway. I may have cranked at him. (I did.)

After both of us ate a peach, THEN I realized it was 7:00, and he needed to eat supper... and before supper I'm supposed to... oops. Check his blood sugar. I checked it, and it was pretty good, even with the peach. Reheated some leftovers, and he promptly pushed them away. REFUSED to eat. So, I heated up some potato soup, the cure-all for his Idonwanna's, and sure enough, all of a sudden he was hungry.

We wrapped up supper, and somewhere in there, the headache went away. And somewhere else in there, Morticia gave me some Very Exciting News. As with the whole homemaker sitch, I don't want to say much more until things are more finalized, but if they pan out they way they've started... VERY exciting.

So, in all, I'm just overly tired and cranky, but besides that, today was a Good Day. I mean, we're getting a homemaker, I prevented Mad Cow from stabbing himself in the process of eating a peach, and Morticia has good news.

Yay.

Peace.