Goody Two Shoes
Hello World,
And so here it is, Friday the 13th again, and right on schedule, although none the more welcome for all that. Hard on the heels of February, March also started on a Sunday, and as we've learned from painful experience before, whenever that happens, there's bound to be a Friday the 13th in our future, and most likely sooner rather than later. For most of us, it's just another day, and nothing to get alarmed about, so I do hope that you were not a victim of misfortune, or unlucky events befalling you on this superstition-inducing occasion. Speaking of days, I bumped into a kindred spirit in a book that I'm reading now, "The Hills at Home" by Nancy Clark: " ... this was Little Becky's calendar, devoted to some singing group she adored. Significant days in the life histories of the group's members were outlined in red as if the birthday of someone named Donny were a national holiday. Once or twice when consulting the calendar, Lily had been caught short, imagining that she had forgotten some occasion for which she ought to have sent out greeting cards or roasted a Butterball or displayed the Flag." Now, there's a woman after my own heart.
While we're on the subject of heart, or at least the heart of rock and roll, I heard a radio commercial yesterday that started out with a jagged crash of electric guitars and pounding drums, while the announcer shouted, "ROCK YOUR WORLD!" The music subsided, and he went on to say, "If it's rock you're after, come to our showrooms and see the latest selection of granite countertops and tile floors for every room in your house." I had to laugh. Normally, that would be all the humor I would expect on the home improvement front, but not so! I was watching "Mission Organization" on the cable channel HGTV, where a professional organizer was helping a young family with their messy garage. The finished project had customized shelves and cabinets for their various tools, sports equipment, garden implements, household items and automotive products, as well as a special cubby near the door for all of their shoes, since the young housewife had stated very matter-of-factly, "We don't wear shoes in the house." They finished the project by installing a new floor of colorful plastic tiles that snap together easily, but are rugged enough to stand up to a lot of wear and tear. They chose two colors that mixed well together, and alternated the colors in an attractive pattern, which prompted the husband to observe, as they were admiring their handiwork: "I don't think we're going to be allowed to wear shoes out here either." And this is the garage, mind you.
And speaking of garages, I have my own garage story to relate, only it's not nearly as funny, at least not to me, and certainly not as decorative. In a weak moment, I had gone to the nursery and bought some plants, as well as flower seeds that I was going start early on the porch in pots, before relocating them to the garden later. I had some left-over pots from plants I had bought the year before, but I wanted to use fresh potting soil, and not old stuff that had been left out in the yard and probably full of weeds. Nowadays, they make potting soil in handy resealable plastic bags, and I knew I still had a bag in the garage that may have been opened, but would still have plenty left to use for my flower seeds. That is, it would have had plenty left in it, except for the juvenile delinquent squirrels and incorrigible raccoons living in our neighborhood, who decided that if it was a bag, and it was in our garage, it might very well contain food, so they were just going to have to tear into the bag and find out. Now, they do this in spite of the fact that the bag says very clearly in large letters that it contains potting soil, never mentions anything about food, but of course, they can't be bothered to read, they just tear into the bag anyway, thanks so very much not. So if my flower seeds don't do well, I already have a built-in scapegoat, and will be prepared to lay the blame squarely on their little furry diabolical shoulders. Although more likely what will happen is that the seeds will do great, I'll get bunches of happy healthy seedlings, plant them outside in the garden, and THEN the squirrels will dig them out and chew them up, leaving the scattered remains strewn about in a disreputable manner. That's all that I've come to expect from our local wildlife, who have taken misbehaving to a whole new level. Anyway, it's lucky for them that they live here, instead of near those people with the newly renovated garage, because they would make them take their feet off, before they could come in and chew into their bags of potting soil.
In other outdoor news, after the surprise snow storm and frigid temperatures of last week, it did actually warm up after a while, and by the weekend, had gotten fairly sunny and pleasant, especially in comparison. It was on March 8 that I spotted our first crocus in the front yard, and when I cleared out some leaves piled up in the corners, I found the early shoots of many other spring bulbs were already starting to make their appearance, like daffodils and even hyacinths. After what seemed like a long and cold winter, it was a refreshing change and a welcome sight to see these harbingers of better days ahead, right under our feet. (And I didn't even have to take my shoes off.) It suddenly occurred to me that if winter is truly over, this would be the first time that I can remember, and possibly ever, that both bird bath heaters actually worked for the entire season, without one or both conking out and being replaced in the middle, and sometimes even the replacement would conk out as well. So this would be a notable achievement, and here I am making a note of it right now, and while I wouldn't rule out the possibility that Old Man Winter still has some more tricks up his sleeve, or maybe hidden in his shoes, it's still an improvement over just about every other year that I can think of, at least in the outdoor heating category.
Of course, everyone knows that my decorative concrete fountain has been pressed into service as a bird bath, for lack of having another bird bath that wasn't already broken or leaky, but it was never intended for that function, and I'm sure the designers would be appalled at the idea. I wasn't expecting the center support to crack, which it did a few years ago, allowing the ornamental upper portion to tilt over in a precarious manner that does nothing to enhance its functionality or appearance, believe me. In fact, the entire support would have broken completely apart, except for the fact that the bottom of the fountain is filled with gravel, so even after it split, it really had nowhere to go. All this time, I've been blaming what I consider this sissy center support for not being strong enough to stand up to the elements, but recently I've had a change of heart. The bird bath heater that's in the fountain now is not very powerful, and in very low temperatures, much of the water freezes, except in a small area right around where the heater is. Since this was such a cold winter, there was ice in the fountain more often than in other years, and as we all learned about glaciers, ice can be a relentless and destructive force, even against the sturdiest objects. When I was busy clearing leaves out of the flower beds around the fountain, I noticed that a brick that was in the water to hold down the heater cord, had been completely crushed by the ice into shards all the way through. I was really surprised, although probably not as much as the poor brick was, which likely didn't even see it coming, not that it would have been able to do anything about it, even if it had. And don't forget, this was with the heater still working all winter, mind you, so just imagine what would have happened if it broke. Somehow, I can't find any way to blame this on our juvenile delinquent squirrels and incorrigible raccoons, try as I might.
Of course, I always say that there's no time like winter for sawing firewood for camping, and I've been making great strides in the piles of branches that have been laying around our back yard, waiting for me to cut them up into logs that I can take on vacation. Now, it must be said that some of this wood has been lounging around in the open so long that it has basically disintegrated to nothing more than sawdust at this point, being held together only by its bark and not much else. When you pick it up to saw it into pieces, it just breaks apart in your hands, without a saw getting anywhere near it. There were other pieces that were so dry, that they would simply snap into segments if you stepped on them, and even the bigger sections would break if you smacked them against something hard. That saved me a lot of time and effort over sawing, and decreased the amount of stuff that I did have to saw, so I got a lot more done than I would have expected. It didn't take long to reduce three huge and gangly heaps of jumbled wood, into two neat and manageable clumps, with the rest going to its proper place in the firewood rack, and even the overflow bundled together in a tidy manner and out of the way for a change. So now it actually looks a lot more like someone organizing their firewood for a purpose, rather than the catastrophic results of a rogue tornado blasting through the yard, tossing wood around randomly in a willy-nilly manner everywhere, and looking like who done it and ran. I'd love to invite people over to see how nice it looks, but I admit that I would be tempted to ask them to take off their shoes.
In other local news, and it doesn't get any more local than this, Wednesday was my birthday, and around here, you can really count on the birthday elves to pull out all the stops and come across with the goods, so this was no exception. We had a nice relaxing dinner at home, rather than going out, and of course, presents are always something to look forward to. Since our anniversary is only a week before my birthday, it's a challenge to come up with more and different presents, but Bill is more than equal to the task, not only coming up with ideas and shopping, but wrapping everything up in fine style besides. This time around, there were more books, more music CDs, a new MP3 player, and a wonderful LED flashlight that stands up on its own tripod, which has a cool factor that would be hard to beat. Best of all, I got my very own Garmin Nuvi GPS, just like Bill has in his car, so I can drive around with impunity, going hither and yon, and not worry about getting lost. Friends of ours have the newer versions of GPS devices in their cars, and they always seem awfully bossy and antagonistic to me, so I'm glad to have the same nice friendly recorded lady in mine that I'm used to already, who doesn't bark at you or sound all snooty and disparaging about your travel choices. After all, the last thing I need is to park the car in the garage and have her tell me that I have to take my shoes off.
Elle
And so here it is, Friday the 13th again, and right on schedule, although none the more welcome for all that. Hard on the heels of February, March also started on a Sunday, and as we've learned from painful experience before, whenever that happens, there's bound to be a Friday the 13th in our future, and most likely sooner rather than later. For most of us, it's just another day, and nothing to get alarmed about, so I do hope that you were not a victim of misfortune, or unlucky events befalling you on this superstition-inducing occasion. Speaking of days, I bumped into a kindred spirit in a book that I'm reading now, "The Hills at Home" by Nancy Clark: " ... this was Little Becky's calendar, devoted to some singing group she adored. Significant days in the life histories of the group's members were outlined in red as if the birthday of someone named Donny were a national holiday. Once or twice when consulting the calendar, Lily had been caught short, imagining that she had forgotten some occasion for which she ought to have sent out greeting cards or roasted a Butterball or displayed the Flag." Now, there's a woman after my own heart.
While we're on the subject of heart, or at least the heart of rock and roll, I heard a radio commercial yesterday that started out with a jagged crash of electric guitars and pounding drums, while the announcer shouted, "ROCK YOUR WORLD!" The music subsided, and he went on to say, "If it's rock you're after, come to our showrooms and see the latest selection of granite countertops and tile floors for every room in your house." I had to laugh. Normally, that would be all the humor I would expect on the home improvement front, but not so! I was watching "Mission Organization" on the cable channel HGTV, where a professional organizer was helping a young family with their messy garage. The finished project had customized shelves and cabinets for their various tools, sports equipment, garden implements, household items and automotive products, as well as a special cubby near the door for all of their shoes, since the young housewife had stated very matter-of-factly, "We don't wear shoes in the house." They finished the project by installing a new floor of colorful plastic tiles that snap together easily, but are rugged enough to stand up to a lot of wear and tear. They chose two colors that mixed well together, and alternated the colors in an attractive pattern, which prompted the husband to observe, as they were admiring their handiwork: "I don't think we're going to be allowed to wear shoes out here either." And this is the garage, mind you.
And speaking of garages, I have my own garage story to relate, only it's not nearly as funny, at least not to me, and certainly not as decorative. In a weak moment, I had gone to the nursery and bought some plants, as well as flower seeds that I was going start early on the porch in pots, before relocating them to the garden later. I had some left-over pots from plants I had bought the year before, but I wanted to use fresh potting soil, and not old stuff that had been left out in the yard and probably full of weeds. Nowadays, they make potting soil in handy resealable plastic bags, and I knew I still had a bag in the garage that may have been opened, but would still have plenty left to use for my flower seeds. That is, it would have had plenty left in it, except for the juvenile delinquent squirrels and incorrigible raccoons living in our neighborhood, who decided that if it was a bag, and it was in our garage, it might very well contain food, so they were just going to have to tear into the bag and find out. Now, they do this in spite of the fact that the bag says very clearly in large letters that it contains potting soil, never mentions anything about food, but of course, they can't be bothered to read, they just tear into the bag anyway, thanks so very much not. So if my flower seeds don't do well, I already have a built-in scapegoat, and will be prepared to lay the blame squarely on their little furry diabolical shoulders. Although more likely what will happen is that the seeds will do great, I'll get bunches of happy healthy seedlings, plant them outside in the garden, and THEN the squirrels will dig them out and chew them up, leaving the scattered remains strewn about in a disreputable manner. That's all that I've come to expect from our local wildlife, who have taken misbehaving to a whole new level. Anyway, it's lucky for them that they live here, instead of near those people with the newly renovated garage, because they would make them take their feet off, before they could come in and chew into their bags of potting soil.
In other outdoor news, after the surprise snow storm and frigid temperatures of last week, it did actually warm up after a while, and by the weekend, had gotten fairly sunny and pleasant, especially in comparison. It was on March 8 that I spotted our first crocus in the front yard, and when I cleared out some leaves piled up in the corners, I found the early shoots of many other spring bulbs were already starting to make their appearance, like daffodils and even hyacinths. After what seemed like a long and cold winter, it was a refreshing change and a welcome sight to see these harbingers of better days ahead, right under our feet. (And I didn't even have to take my shoes off.) It suddenly occurred to me that if winter is truly over, this would be the first time that I can remember, and possibly ever, that both bird bath heaters actually worked for the entire season, without one or both conking out and being replaced in the middle, and sometimes even the replacement would conk out as well. So this would be a notable achievement, and here I am making a note of it right now, and while I wouldn't rule out the possibility that Old Man Winter still has some more tricks up his sleeve, or maybe hidden in his shoes, it's still an improvement over just about every other year that I can think of, at least in the outdoor heating category.
Of course, everyone knows that my decorative concrete fountain has been pressed into service as a bird bath, for lack of having another bird bath that wasn't already broken or leaky, but it was never intended for that function, and I'm sure the designers would be appalled at the idea. I wasn't expecting the center support to crack, which it did a few years ago, allowing the ornamental upper portion to tilt over in a precarious manner that does nothing to enhance its functionality or appearance, believe me. In fact, the entire support would have broken completely apart, except for the fact that the bottom of the fountain is filled with gravel, so even after it split, it really had nowhere to go. All this time, I've been blaming what I consider this sissy center support for not being strong enough to stand up to the elements, but recently I've had a change of heart. The bird bath heater that's in the fountain now is not very powerful, and in very low temperatures, much of the water freezes, except in a small area right around where the heater is. Since this was such a cold winter, there was ice in the fountain more often than in other years, and as we all learned about glaciers, ice can be a relentless and destructive force, even against the sturdiest objects. When I was busy clearing leaves out of the flower beds around the fountain, I noticed that a brick that was in the water to hold down the heater cord, had been completely crushed by the ice into shards all the way through. I was really surprised, although probably not as much as the poor brick was, which likely didn't even see it coming, not that it would have been able to do anything about it, even if it had. And don't forget, this was with the heater still working all winter, mind you, so just imagine what would have happened if it broke. Somehow, I can't find any way to blame this on our juvenile delinquent squirrels and incorrigible raccoons, try as I might.
Of course, I always say that there's no time like winter for sawing firewood for camping, and I've been making great strides in the piles of branches that have been laying around our back yard, waiting for me to cut them up into logs that I can take on vacation. Now, it must be said that some of this wood has been lounging around in the open so long that it has basically disintegrated to nothing more than sawdust at this point, being held together only by its bark and not much else. When you pick it up to saw it into pieces, it just breaks apart in your hands, without a saw getting anywhere near it. There were other pieces that were so dry, that they would simply snap into segments if you stepped on them, and even the bigger sections would break if you smacked them against something hard. That saved me a lot of time and effort over sawing, and decreased the amount of stuff that I did have to saw, so I got a lot more done than I would have expected. It didn't take long to reduce three huge and gangly heaps of jumbled wood, into two neat and manageable clumps, with the rest going to its proper place in the firewood rack, and even the overflow bundled together in a tidy manner and out of the way for a change. So now it actually looks a lot more like someone organizing their firewood for a purpose, rather than the catastrophic results of a rogue tornado blasting through the yard, tossing wood around randomly in a willy-nilly manner everywhere, and looking like who done it and ran. I'd love to invite people over to see how nice it looks, but I admit that I would be tempted to ask them to take off their shoes.
In other local news, and it doesn't get any more local than this, Wednesday was my birthday, and around here, you can really count on the birthday elves to pull out all the stops and come across with the goods, so this was no exception. We had a nice relaxing dinner at home, rather than going out, and of course, presents are always something to look forward to. Since our anniversary is only a week before my birthday, it's a challenge to come up with more and different presents, but Bill is more than equal to the task, not only coming up with ideas and shopping, but wrapping everything up in fine style besides. This time around, there were more books, more music CDs, a new MP3 player, and a wonderful LED flashlight that stands up on its own tripod, which has a cool factor that would be hard to beat. Best of all, I got my very own Garmin Nuvi GPS, just like Bill has in his car, so I can drive around with impunity, going hither and yon, and not worry about getting lost. Friends of ours have the newer versions of GPS devices in their cars, and they always seem awfully bossy and antagonistic to me, so I'm glad to have the same nice friendly recorded lady in mine that I'm used to already, who doesn't bark at you or sound all snooty and disparaging about your travel choices. After all, the last thing I need is to park the car in the garage and have her tell me that I have to take my shoes off.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 9:18 PM
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