In honor of our beautiful warm weather here in February, I share with you a photo from the summer of 2004. My parents came to stay with the kids for the afternoon. When we returned, Sassy, almost two, wanted ‘some’ too. There she sat, double-fisting the dregs of our iced coffees.
This photo of Sassy always makes The Mister smile, maybe it’ll work for you, too.
Happy Friday Everyone!
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link.
Do y’all have notes at work?
funny, but not what i mean
This is a thing. Like when you call the cable company, and you’re all, “My upstairs DVR doesn’t record channel 5,” and the guy says “Mrs. Mottern, we apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you and we will send you a new DVR overnight. You will receive your new DVR tomorrow. I’ve noted your account. Are you ready for the confirmation number?”
Cable Guy could be over there thinkin I’m an idiot bitch, and who the hell watches channel 5? — but he’s definitely not typing that in his notes.
Mr Hugh made an impromptu visit to the office for a thirty-five minute complaint about the weather. He believes we should work harder and faster to fix it. I informed Mr Hugh that the weather is equally important to us, and his best interests are also our best interests. I assured him we’re doing our very best to establish a clear path to sunshine. I showed him the lightning rods and cisterns we’ve installed as well as the sunglasses we’ve purchased for sunny days. I told him as soon as we’re in receipt of sunshine, I will send it out to him. After receiving his complimentary sunglasses, Mr Hugh was pleased and sends his best.
Woodchuck called to express appreciation for the sawdust we forwarded. He believes he could develop a greater relationship with our office. For our mutual benefit, he’s willing to chuck five, maybe even six logs at a time. He’d like a more exclusive agreement, and he has business cards.
Sent Symbiotic Relationship Contract and business cards to Woodchuck.
Jonas at Crooks n’ More called to inquire on the status of the fire and to offer his support in the burning. He asked what accelerants we’ve chosen. I informed him I’m not at liberty to discuss our choices. I suspect he will still bring his largest water hose.
Meeting with Ms Jones was strained. I scanned all of her pictures and asked her to sign our truthbook. I made a point of explaining we can only use original photos. She insists they are all hers, but nevertheless, she did remove the ones from magazines. I explained scrapbooking can take some time. She nodded along, but I think Ms Jones will require regular updates. I pointed out payment is due in full at the time of receipt, and went over the pricing. She was shocked at the expense of embossing and acid-free stickers and asked that we use staple guns and glitter glue instead. I assured her she will be pleased with the final product, regardless of cost. She signed our truthbook. I gave her some stationary and a fluffy blue pen as a token of our appreciation.
You see?
What is noted:
Per our September 24, 2016 request for orange juice, Maureen informed me she did, in fact, receive our oranges and juicer, but she didn’t know what to do with them. She said that the employee who knows what to do with them comes in on Wednesdays so she will mention the oranges and the juicer to her then. I told Maureen I would send shiny new oranges.
Sent Maureen shiny new oranges via Priority Mail
Tracking number XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXX XX
What I thought:
I sent this bitch oranges four fuckin months ago and she’s just been sittin on her lazy ass, lettin them rot! She said a person with a brain will be in Wednesday and she will ask her if she knows how to juice. I stopped myself from asking if the brainy one has been in EVERY FUCKIN WEDNESDAY FOR THE LAST FOUR MONTHS?! Exactly how did Maureen get a job in the juicing department?!?
Sent Maureen MORE oranges!
Tracking Number OOOO OOOO OOOO OOOO OMFG OFML OJFC OOO FY
I get paid to write nicely. I do not write nicely for free. Therefore, I blog.
Relatable or nah?
When you cut something with scissors, do you move your jaw (as if you were about to chew)?
I don’t. But I did after I read the question.
Do you chew your pens and pencils?
I do not.
Are you a collector of anything? If so what?
I officially collect Fiesta. We use it every day and like so many other things, my love for it grows more each day.
We kinda collect books here, too.
I have multitudes of fabric, paper/stationery/stickers, handmade art…
I’m also gathering what appears to be quite a collection of scarves and socks…
I’m not certain all collections are intentional. Some things seem to come to us, don’t they?
And we have to be careful when we say we collect something, because saying so implies we want more, and we’re often persnickety…
What size is your bed?
It is a queen.
Optional Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Saturday was some kinda wonderful. On Saturday, we seldom left our bed. I took the dog out, I made coffee, but then I went back to lounge in bed. I took a bath and went back to bed. We went out and got sammiches and came home to EAT THEM IN OUR BED. We read and watched tv and movies all day and all night. Children and pets came and went depending, but it was truly a day of rest. Delicious.
We usta do that regularly. A long time ago. Like, three houses and two children ago.
I don’t know what the weather’s like in your area, but here, it’s sublime, and nowhere near wintery. Yesterday we hit the White Water Trails along Fall Creek.
I sweated, but couldn’t even bring myself to complain. I was too glad to be fully ambulatory and breathing through my nose. I always love those out-of-season days, don’t you? Like when you get a high of 70 in August? It always feels like a treat. Everyone was talking about the weather yesterday, especially the birds. This week it’s supposed to be unseasonably warm and I look forward to open windows and longer walks with Sadie.
Cee’s Share Your World is a weekly feature and all are welcome to join in and play along.
What’s going on in your world?
When we bought our house, lighting was a noticeable, but insignificant issue. Mainly, I didn’t like most of the light fixtures, but you know, those can be changed, and having light is good.
The first one to be fixed was the master bath. We no longer remember exactly, but we do think there were FIVE ONE-HUNDRED WATT BULBS in there. Pupillary torture. MY EYES! MY EYES!
Brushing teeth, washing face — am I getting sunburnt? Pee quickly, lest you get a migraine! Hadda shine up the potty like he was auditioning on Broadway.
In contrast, the main bathroom has a low-light overhead and low-light sconces. This, combined with the old leaded-glass mirror is pure magic. Gazing into it renders you younger, more beautiful — and of course, that elicits a smile, which makes anyone look better.
I imagine everyone takes selfies in our bathroom.
All the women visitors love that mirror, because it declares each one the fairest of all.
yes, wash your hands, your beautiful hands, you’re a goddess and this water is the fountain of youth…
For a time, I was certain my family and pets came into the bathroom to worship my delicate beauty in the glow of the dimmer.
But then, later, I’d go into the master bath and scream in horror, having left my beauty in the main bath.
you can’t expose gremlins to bright light.
I had to face the truth of my weeping eyeliner wings and my lopsided eyebrows. I’d have to floss my gnarly, stained teeth, wash my red, crater-ridden face, and moisturize my spotted alligator hands.
Fortunately, there’s not enough room for The Mister to join me in there, so he never had to see the atrocity. I would slink into the bedroom, grateful for my husband’s undying affection. bless his heart, he doesn’t even know he makes love to a hideous monster with four shadowy, whiskery chins and only five lower lashes .
For some time, we tried to use whatever light came in and then finally, he replaced those bulbs with some soft twenty-watters and we were like, “Ah.”
Slowly, I grew ever more beautiful over time.
Age gracefully? Of course. Anyone can age gracefully… as the bulbs slowly burn-out.
And then The Mister put in the energy-saving bulbs that claim to be thirteen watts, but I know they are really TWO-HUNDRED WATT HALOGENS.
We can’t actually read the bulbs. We have to ask Moo to go in and read the bulbs.
“Stop! Two is plenty!” persephone be damned, i am frankenstein’s bride.
Monday came and it was time to put on the face that meets the other faces:
I put on my face, took my face off, put on my face again, and finally, went to the other bathroom for validation.
hm, i look like me. this is how i look, right?
I went back to the master bath, grimaced, turned the light off, and went to work.
I asked Mentor, “How do I look? How’s my make up? Do I look different or weird in any way?”
She studied me carefully and pronounced that I looked fine.
“Oh good,” I said, “The Mister changed the lighting in the bathroom and now I look like a forty-three-year-old mother of four.”
And we laughed and laughed!
Happy Friday Everyone!
House and garage in the shade…
Tiny house that wants all the light…
A tale of two houses. Trim and mood and attitude. What say you of the blue and green?
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link.
The Mister and I are sick with the crud. We know it’s the crud because we watched Sassy go through the crud last week and we probably got her crud not from affectionating her, but by collecting her cruddy tissues. We felt she was unnecessarily babyish and dramatic during the crud and we did affectionate her magnificently.
It began Saturday night when we had guests. I kept sayin a lot of dust got stirred up, cause we had cleaned the windows and opened them, and we’re an allergic bunch. But on Sunday, I woke up bizarrely cold with a throat that felt as if I had swallowed glass and I got worse throughout the day, not better. When you’re cold to the bone and your head weighs three hundred pounds, it’s hard to deny the crud.
The Mister chose to hibernate in the bedroom.
He put my quilt and pillows in the dryer for awhile and then I made a warm and toasty sofa bed, where I cocooned in the warmth. Medusa hair, tissues threaded up my nose, much snore, many pretty.
I felt unnecessarily babyish and dramatic. I thought I may have caught a man cold, ffs.
When we went to bed Sunday night, I hoped a dose of NyQuil and a good night’s sleep would right me, whereas he was all, “If I feel like this tomorrow, I cannot go to work tomorrow.” For a brief moment, I doubted the power of the La Fee Verte de NyQuil, but I wanted to believe. I had all the hope of a woman tissue-walrus.
Monday at seven, I woke Sassy up and went back to sleep, not waking again til ten. I cleaned all the crusties off my face, blew my nose 20 or so times, pulled on my ears, cleared my throat and then went back to lying down, because my head must surely have weighed two hundred pounds.
Finally, I sat up and shot a text to my boss. I read it five times to be sure it made sense. I kinda wanted to say I could maybe make it, if I drove the secondary roads, in my gray pajamas, smellin like Vick’s, no talking on the phone…I could prolly still get some things done…
Benson said I needed chicken soup. I did. I did need chicken soup. We needed chicken soup.
I had been naggin Moo for eatin all the Campbell’s, cause when I’m sick, ain’t nobody makin me chicken soup.
Well I had a chicken carcass in the freezer and a fresh buncha thighs in the fridge, so I set out to make chicken soup.
(When I wasn’t working and I had a regular fridge, I was pretty good at keeping stock ingredients and even stock itself. Now, not so much. My freezer is stupid because side-by-sides are stupid and their stupid freezers are the stupidest parts. But thank you for still working, Stupid Side-By-Side Fridge.)
Once I had the chicken simmering with its garlic and onion and herbs, I said to The Mister, “I am making chicken soup. Now will you go out to get carrots and celery and noodles?”
He gave me the look.
ugh
“You mean physically go out to the store and purchase them?”
“Never mind, I’ll go.”
More the look.
“I’ll go. It’s fine.”
i don’t think i should drive and you don’t even have hair or hafta put on a bra and i am cookin the soup, but whatever, i will do everything, it’s fiiine
I was too sick to fight properly.
I mustered energy to put my coat and boots on my gray pajama-clad body and The Mister asked, “You’re goin out like that?!?”
oh see, i’m not always beautiful afterall, eh?
“I’m siiiiick!”
He said to sit down.
I stood there, needing noodles.
“Sit down. I’ll go. Just sit down.”
“I –”
“Sit down. I said I’ll go.”
“I done asked you to go and you –”
“I said sit down, Woman! I’m the head of the household!”
“Oh you –”
“It says so in the bible!” he teased.
“I don’t take anything in the New Testament even remotely seriously.”
“It’s in the Old Testament.”
“No it’s not.”
“Yes it is!”
“No it’s not! It’s in Ephesians!”
“Fuckin Paul.”
When you are both so sick you can’t fight properly and your husband comes at you with a bible verse. JFC.
He took my scrawled list to the store and a bit later he text me.
“What kind of onions?”
that ain’t right. onions? i don’t need onions. i have a whole drawer of onions.
I called him. “The list should read carrots, celery, and noodles. I don’t know why I wrote onions. We don’t need onions.”
head full of snot, no room for brain
We FaceTimed for the cold meds. He was lookin for somethin blue or green or clear or pill; I’d bought DayQuil for Sassy, but I didn’t want to drink red dye because rashes.
Then he asked what kind of lozenges to get. In the background, a man sang out, “Riiicola!” and I said, on FaceTime, “I don’t care, I’ll suck on anything.”
*facepalm*
Once he got home, I washed and chopped and added to the pot.
i like a lil soup with my pepper, okay?
FOR THE LOVE OF DIPHENHYDRAMINE, EVEN THE MUCINEX PILLS HAVE RED DYE IN THEM!
The flowers he brought home have dyed stems, so the water turns pink!
Enough of the red dye, People! Enough!
that water tacky af
We ate our soup, took our medicine, snored our snores, snotted our tissues, and we even survived Tuesday, when we got dressed and took our one-hundred pound heads to work and prolly got some stuff done. Since I’m so romantic, on the way home, I stopped at the drug store and bought The Mister tissues to take to work today.
Now my head only weighs about fifty pounds, so that’s nice.
It’s Wednesday, did you find any One-Liners?
Our friend Beefy posted this little thing on Facebook the other day, and my reply was, “This looks like a great way for The Mister and I to bicker with one another for 10-20 minutes! How romantic!”
In honor of Valentine’s Day, all couples: Make this your status for fun and answer honestly.
Who’s older?
Him
Apparently he was in a big, fat hurry to get here and I played hard to get
Who was interested first?
Me, but then him and then me and then him, and well, that went on sometimes not at all and also for over a decade
How long have you been together?
Depends on when you start counting, we’re gonna go with November 98
Married?
Yes
Happily, even
More sarcastic?
Him
Right, he’s more sarcastic
Who makes the most mess?
We’re not messy, but he says me, cause cooking, and I say him, cause van
Who has more tattoos?
Not a single tattoo between us
Better singer?
Him
I can sing, but he can SING
Hogs the remote?
I’m in charge of the bedroom remote and THAT’S THAT
Better driver?
Me
That’s right, ME, and I don’t even have a penis
Spends the most?
Me
Without my spending, we would all wear old fatigues, sleep on piles of out-of-circulation Runner’s World magazines, and eat only when offered food or whatever. So yes, All The Spending Are Belong To Me.
Smarter?
“Who’s smarter?”
The Mister looked up at the ceiling, “It depends,” he said.
I said, “I am, because I don’t have to think about it.”
Most common sense?
He says he has more common sense because I think on a higher level. I think that’s poetry. *swoon*
What are your middle names?
Michael and Allen
And a whole buncha people just went OH!
Whose siblings do you see most often?
His sibling, cause I don’t have any
Do you have any children together?
Yes
We also have children apart, because when you have children ONE TIME, you have them forever, no matter where they go
Did you go to the same school?
Yes, for one year
Who is the most sensitive?
He says him. According to Moo, I am the kind of sensitive for when they’re sick and he’s the kind of sensitive that gets butt-hurt.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Los Rancheros
They have quesoeverything there
Where is the farthest you two have traveled together?
Florida
We had to think about that one for awhile, but yes, we’re sure
Who has the worst temper?
Me
The girls didn’t think so, but he and I both know it’s me
Who does the cooking?
Me
We love that.
Who is more social?
Him
He makes all the friends
Who is the neat freak?
Neither of us, no matter what they say
Who is the most stubborn?
Neither of us
Who hogs the bed?
“I do not hog the bed!”
“Right. Sassy, how often do you hear Daddy tell me to PLEASE GO BACK TO MY OWN SIDE OF THE BED?”
“Never. And I’ve never heard him tell you to roll over, either.”
He does sometimes hog the bed
Who wakes up earlier?
Him
My waking up first is a bad omen
Where was your first date?
St. Elmos, on our wedding night
Who has the bigger family?
Him
I have a large family, but good gravy!
Do you get flowers often?
I do!
I got flowers yesterday, because we are both sick. That’s fair, yeah?
Who does the laundry?
Me
I’m the only one who can hear the laundry calling
Who’s better with the computers?
Me
I know, right?
Who drives when you are together?
99.9% Him
Who picks where you go to dinner?
Me
HE NEVER EVER PICKS A RESTAURANT!
We did bicker a bit, but we mostly agreed. Celebrate love EVERY day, y’all!
Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?
Out, out, out! I have to be able to wrap-up burrito-style or kick out a foot.
Have you stolen a street sign before?
No. In high school, I was in a van with other people who contemplated stealing a street sign. As it turns out, most people do not travel with the tools required to steal a street sign. Or so I was informed when they returned to the van without one.
Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?
I have. I don’t cut coupons anymore. I use an app and read the specials and whatnot, but I’m not into coupons, because I hardly buy any of the coupon products. The coupons seem always to be for products I don’t buy. I prefer the coupons the stores give, like $2 off a $10 purchase in dairy or $5 off entire purchase — I’ll use that stuff.
Do you have freckles?
I do.
Optional Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
It was a long week for me. I don’t know why, but it seemed to go on forever. In the plus column, there were many snuggles, I had a good, long talk with my mother, date night was a joy, and I enjoyed having friends over. I am also grateful for Saturday’s unseasonably warm weather.
This week coming up bears a long weekend and I look forward to the extra time with my family.
Cee’s Share Your World is a weekly feature and all are welcome to join in and play along.
What’s going on in your world?
We went back to Marco’s and I took my glasses.
We were enjoying our shrimp cocktail when another couple was seated next to us.
Around 7:00, the lounge seems to fill up and really get hoppin.
I should tell you, there aren’t a lot of people our age at Marco’s. It’s an older crowd. I think there was one patron our age there, but maybe she was just full of collagen and Botox — who can tell these days?
(I don’t know what this means about us, that we hang out in ‘older people’ places, but we’re okay with it.)
Anyway, the gentleman sitting nearest me said, “I bet the pasta’s good,” and The Mister told him, “Yes, the pasta’s good,” and we all had a lil chat about it.
During our Maza plate, another couple joined that couple.
Then, as we ate our desserts, The Mister with his tiramisu and me with my spumoni…
The Mister busted-out with a laugh, slapped his knee, and pointed to the table next to ours.
There they were, the older people, with their cell phone flashlights aimed at the menu, illuminating it entirely. They pointed and read aloud to one another.
I was astonished by the sheer genius of their problem-solving technique.
The Mister asked me, “Why didn’t we think of that?!?”
I said, “Wisdom, Man. We don’t have their wisdom.”
The Mister had to tell them all about our recent lighting and vision struggle and commend them for their too-obvious-for-us solution.
I wanna be ‘old’ like that. Wise. Enlightening. Still dining with my love. Still ordering pasta.
Happy Friday Everyone!
joeyfullystated 
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