Have you ever tried to count all the things that needed to happen exactly as they did in order for a certain outcome to have occurred? For instance -
IF my agency had not closed, thereby resulting in a change in my schedule whereby I would no longer have to be at the office until midnight on Wednesday nights....
And IF the pager I was carrying had not remained silent, allowing me to be at home at exactly the right time....
And IF I had not stayed dressed in my regular clothes, and instead had changed immediately into my comfy, though very raggedy, around-the-house clothes, as I usually do upon getting home in the evenings...
And IF I had not remembered to fill up the tank on the way home from work that day...
If any of these things, and many more, had not all been exactly as they were... In all likelihood, I would not be sitting here full of wonder in front of the computer - but would instead be attending my husband's funeral.
Every moment of Wednesday was orchestrated - and every change leading up to Wednesday was directed - and certainly not by me.
My husband is of course realizing all these same wondrous things - and probably in a much more profound way. Last night he thanked me for saving his life. But, it was not me. Believe me. It was NOT me.
Thank you, most Amazing and Wonderful God, for the miracle of Wednesday.
7.31.2005
7.17.2005
I HATE YARDSALES ! !
Hours upon hours in the basement sorting through boxes still packed since our move to this house over 2 years ago...
Hours of figuring out stupid prices and putting tiny little tags and stickers on things....
Load after load of laundry, washing old clothes, sheets, stuffed animals, etc, - a process that totally wiped us out of laundry detergenet and fabric softener....
Hours upon hours of cleaning, dusting off, polishing, rinsing all the trinkets, doo-dads, thingamajigs, and whaddyacallits...
Dragging the husband out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to load the furniture and other heavy items onto the truck, drive to the neighbor's, set up the canopy, and UNload the truck...
And, the amazing result of all the hard and tedious work? My take from yesterday's yard sale totalled a whopping (drum roll, please)
$5.40
Yep. That's right. There is no zero after that "5" and no digit in front of it, either.
There were a total of 12 - count 'em - TWELVE ! cars that stopped at our two-family lalapalooza of a yard sale between 7:15 and 1:30. The weather was clear with nary a drop of the predicted rain and the heat and humidity were stifling.
12 cars. $5.40. Literally DAYS of preparation. I HATE yard sales.
Here and now, PB makes a solemn vow to never, ever, ever host or participate in another yard sale/garage sale/rummage sale. Instead, she will follow her sanity preserving instincts and either donate everything to charity...or just take the crap out back and burn it.
Hours of figuring out stupid prices and putting tiny little tags and stickers on things....
Load after load of laundry, washing old clothes, sheets, stuffed animals, etc, - a process that totally wiped us out of laundry detergenet and fabric softener....
Hours upon hours of cleaning, dusting off, polishing, rinsing all the trinkets, doo-dads, thingamajigs, and whaddyacallits...
Dragging the husband out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to load the furniture and other heavy items onto the truck, drive to the neighbor's, set up the canopy, and UNload the truck...
And, the amazing result of all the hard and tedious work? My take from yesterday's yard sale totalled a whopping (drum roll, please)
$5.40
Yep. That's right. There is no zero after that "5" and no digit in front of it, either.
There were a total of 12 - count 'em - TWELVE ! cars that stopped at our two-family lalapalooza of a yard sale between 7:15 and 1:30. The weather was clear with nary a drop of the predicted rain and the heat and humidity were stifling.
12 cars. $5.40. Literally DAYS of preparation. I HATE yard sales.
Here and now, PB makes a solemn vow to never, ever, ever host or participate in another yard sale/garage sale/rummage sale. Instead, she will follow her sanity preserving instincts and either donate everything to charity...or just take the crap out back and burn it.
7.15.2005
Doggonnit !
Blogger disappeared all my comments! I came back here tonight specifically to see who peeped after my last post.
By the by, I forgot to add the yard sale to my woeful list last night. Oh yes. The yard sale. Who invented these things anyway? Whoever it was should be tortured. Severely.
My neighbor and I agreed weeks ago to have a 2-family yard sale tomorrow....and now the weather is calling for rain. All day. We're still committed, though, because the ad went in the paper two weeks ago. And of course my neighbor listed it as "Rain or Shine." So folks are going to be expecting it. And since the only people who will be out yard-saling in the rain are the die-hard, professional yard-sale junkies, I really don't want to piss them off. They sort of scare me.
I am seriously considering throwing all my crapola out in the yard and sticking a big sign out there that says "Free!! To Good Home or Bad Home Just As Long As It's Not MY Home" - and then running inside, locking my door, and letting all the People Who Like Other People's Junk to make off with as much as they can. It would be so much easier than staying up all night tonight sticking little price tags on every damn thing.
And WHY do I have to put price tags on things anyway? Everyone KNOWS yard sale prices don't mean anything.
Sheesh.
HEY BLOGGER - I WANT MY COMMENTS BACK!!!
By the by, I forgot to add the yard sale to my woeful list last night. Oh yes. The yard sale. Who invented these things anyway? Whoever it was should be tortured. Severely.
My neighbor and I agreed weeks ago to have a 2-family yard sale tomorrow....and now the weather is calling for rain. All day. We're still committed, though, because the ad went in the paper two weeks ago. And of course my neighbor listed it as "Rain or Shine." So folks are going to be expecting it. And since the only people who will be out yard-saling in the rain are the die-hard, professional yard-sale junkies, I really don't want to piss them off. They sort of scare me.
I am seriously considering throwing all my crapola out in the yard and sticking a big sign out there that says "Free!! To Good Home or Bad Home Just As Long As It's Not MY Home" - and then running inside, locking my door, and letting all the People Who Like Other People's Junk to make off with as much as they can. It would be so much easier than staying up all night tonight sticking little price tags on every damn thing.
And WHY do I have to put price tags on things anyway? Everyone KNOWS yard sale prices don't mean anything.
Sheesh.
HEY BLOGGER - I WANT MY COMMENTS BACK!!!
7.14.2005
Ohhh - You Mean One of THOSE Days...
After a long break and before yet another long break, I'm back. Well, momentarily at least. I know how relieved you all must be.
You know those days that are like heaven? Those days you know the world is yours and the birds are singing the beautiful melodies God gave them at the Creation? Those days when you close your eyes and sink into the warmth of simply being, when every sound you hear and every sight that meets your eyes seems to be a most beautiful and blessed gift, meant for you in just that very moment of time? Yes? You know what I'm talking about.... I know you do.
Today was not one of those days. So forget that. Wipe that nice, serene picture right on out of your head. Sit down and shut up while I tell you about my day. Or, rather, my last several days. And - if I were you, I wouldn't make so much as a peep, because PB is liable to come at you like a screaming mad 40-something crazy woman right out of your monitor. Got that? Okay.
My job with my old agency is gone. Dead. Kaput. Wiped from existance for lo, these past 14 days. I am like a fish out of water. Like a pea without a pod. Like a....you get the picture. Ohhhh - I still have my old office. The physical surroundings are the same. My computer is the same. My access to the main LAN is the same - or well, actually, now, it's enhanced. But, never mind. That's not the point. The point is, my home for the last 6 years is no longer my home.
I went to a meeting last week with a co-worker who was forcefully migrated with me, and a whole roomful of people I've known for years in a professional capacity and with whom I am now working. One of the professionals actually used to work with me at "my" agency until he turned traitor and joined this particular one. I was so very happy to be in a meeting with him again. I remembered previous meetings from years ago...our agency was relaxed, informal, and there was always room for levity in meetings..meetings that were sometimes salted with mildly inappropriate jokes and one-liners. Ah, but now. Now. I sit across from my dear friend and co-worker from years past, and am treated to a haughty attitude while a definite air of seniority simply exudes from him. We're still with the City, and I'm technically senior to him. Ack. It took everything I had to sit there and interact gracefully.
Only a few more days of this and I will be winging my way on a much needed vacation to see my grandmother, of whom I spoke 2 or so posts back. Sorry - but I don't feel like linking right now. I'm on a roll.
Watch out.
What the hell is going on with my garden? My beans are dying! The peas that were sweet and ohhh so incredibly delicious are now thin and icky and not so sweet at all. It surely cannot be because I have only weeded twice this year. I told you - after finding that grizzly-bear of a wolf spider covered with a carpet of babies on her back, I was NOT going back to the garden. I figured nature would take over, like in the good old days, when all the land was filled with plenty. Yeah. Right.
I've been overdosing on ice cream and have ballooned by - ohhh, I don't know - maybe 10 lbs since July 3rd. Yes - that was the July 3rd bash I was running on about and driving myself batty over the last time I actually wrote something here.
Everyone LOVES home made ice cream. Admit it. Everyone. So, of course, I made tons of it for our guests. Let's see. There was lemon, cheesecake, blueberry, strawberry, real vanilla bean, chocolate, and....rhubarb. Yes. Rhubarb. The lemon and the rhubarb actually disappeared first. It doesn't matter that I was the one who disappeared them...they went first. Correction. I believe it was the daughter who disappeared the lemon. Regardless, I made tons of ice cream. And had tons of ice cream left over. It wasn't that people didn't eat it. They did. It was more that there was so much other good stuff to eat FIRST that they were all pretty much stuffed to their eyeballs by the time we brought out the cold, creamy, delicious treats I and the daughter and the mother-in-law had slaved over for 2 days. So, the husband, the daughter and I have been eating ice cream every day for the last 11 days - sometimes two helpings a day. And it is STILL NOT GONE! I swear, I think someone is sneaking downstairs to make more ice-cream every night. It's never going to be gone. I know it. I feel it. Especially on my thighs and my butt. And, no. I will not throw it out. Are you out of your MIND? It's toooooo good to throw away! Sheesh. Silly people.
I don't even want to discuss the daughter and her wedding plans. Well, not really wedding plans, because that was pushed back. Sigh.. Mercifully pushed back - about 3 years. It is so hard watching a child grow up and having to watch as she makes really weird choices and not be able to step in and say - HEY! Stop that! You're going to put out your eye! - like you did when she was little. Well, not that getting married would put out her eye - but I think you know what I'm getting at here. I wonder if I should get her shirt...one of those Warning, Runs with Scissors shirts. She would probably think it's cute, and I would be the only one who would know to what it was actually referring. Of course, since she sometimes pops in here and reads my blog, I guess that idea has now lost its pizzazz. (Hi Sweetie. Yep - talking about you. Go away now. Love you!)
And the news. The News! My God, the NEWS! London, Rove, Arrests, SCOTUS. I've been missing it all. Because I absolutely abhor television, haven't been blogging, or checking in with other sites, or even hitting internet news at work. Something must be wrong with me.
Ahhhh. I believe I may have found the reason for my foul and bitter mood. News withdrawal. Well, okay. News withdrawal, water-less fish feelings at work, ice cream over dose, a daughter who has morphed into scissor girl, and very not-sweet peas. You try all that on all at once and see if you can maintain a cheerful disposition and not be tempted to grab the ceiling fan and spin, legs splayed, kicking over every lamp in the room for the sheer fun of it - while wishing the shades were the heads of your new (and not so new) coworkers. Well, okay. A ceiling fan would probably fall out of the ceiling and ruin the whole thing. Especially with my extra 10 lbs of ice cream blubber. But, you get the idea.
Okay. You may peep now.
You know those days that are like heaven? Those days you know the world is yours and the birds are singing the beautiful melodies God gave them at the Creation? Those days when you close your eyes and sink into the warmth of simply being, when every sound you hear and every sight that meets your eyes seems to be a most beautiful and blessed gift, meant for you in just that very moment of time? Yes? You know what I'm talking about.... I know you do.
Today was not one of those days. So forget that. Wipe that nice, serene picture right on out of your head. Sit down and shut up while I tell you about my day. Or, rather, my last several days. And - if I were you, I wouldn't make so much as a peep, because PB is liable to come at you like a screaming mad 40-something crazy woman right out of your monitor. Got that? Okay.
My job with my old agency is gone. Dead. Kaput. Wiped from existance for lo, these past 14 days. I am like a fish out of water. Like a pea without a pod. Like a....you get the picture. Ohhhh - I still have my old office. The physical surroundings are the same. My computer is the same. My access to the main LAN is the same - or well, actually, now, it's enhanced. But, never mind. That's not the point. The point is, my home for the last 6 years is no longer my home.
I went to a meeting last week with a co-worker who was forcefully migrated with me, and a whole roomful of people I've known for years in a professional capacity and with whom I am now working. One of the professionals actually used to work with me at "my" agency until he turned traitor and joined this particular one. I was so very happy to be in a meeting with him again. I remembered previous meetings from years ago...our agency was relaxed, informal, and there was always room for levity in meetings..meetings that were sometimes salted with mildly inappropriate jokes and one-liners. Ah, but now. Now. I sit across from my dear friend and co-worker from years past, and am treated to a haughty attitude while a definite air of seniority simply exudes from him. We're still with the City, and I'm technically senior to him. Ack. It took everything I had to sit there and interact gracefully.
Only a few more days of this and I will be winging my way on a much needed vacation to see my grandmother, of whom I spoke 2 or so posts back. Sorry - but I don't feel like linking right now. I'm on a roll.
Watch out.
What the hell is going on with my garden? My beans are dying! The peas that were sweet and ohhh so incredibly delicious are now thin and icky and not so sweet at all. It surely cannot be because I have only weeded twice this year. I told you - after finding that grizzly-bear of a wolf spider covered with a carpet of babies on her back, I was NOT going back to the garden. I figured nature would take over, like in the good old days, when all the land was filled with plenty. Yeah. Right.
I've been overdosing on ice cream and have ballooned by - ohhh, I don't know - maybe 10 lbs since July 3rd. Yes - that was the July 3rd bash I was running on about and driving myself batty over the last time I actually wrote something here.
Everyone LOVES home made ice cream. Admit it. Everyone. So, of course, I made tons of it for our guests. Let's see. There was lemon, cheesecake, blueberry, strawberry, real vanilla bean, chocolate, and....rhubarb. Yes. Rhubarb. The lemon and the rhubarb actually disappeared first. It doesn't matter that I was the one who disappeared them...they went first. Correction. I believe it was the daughter who disappeared the lemon. Regardless, I made tons of ice cream. And had tons of ice cream left over. It wasn't that people didn't eat it. They did. It was more that there was so much other good stuff to eat FIRST that they were all pretty much stuffed to their eyeballs by the time we brought out the cold, creamy, delicious treats I and the daughter and the mother-in-law had slaved over for 2 days. So, the husband, the daughter and I have been eating ice cream every day for the last 11 days - sometimes two helpings a day. And it is STILL NOT GONE! I swear, I think someone is sneaking downstairs to make more ice-cream every night. It's never going to be gone. I know it. I feel it. Especially on my thighs and my butt. And, no. I will not throw it out. Are you out of your MIND? It's toooooo good to throw away! Sheesh. Silly people.
I don't even want to discuss the daughter and her wedding plans. Well, not really wedding plans, because that was pushed back. Sigh.. Mercifully pushed back - about 3 years. It is so hard watching a child grow up and having to watch as she makes really weird choices and not be able to step in and say - HEY! Stop that! You're going to put out your eye! - like you did when she was little. Well, not that getting married would put out her eye - but I think you know what I'm getting at here. I wonder if I should get her shirt...one of those Warning, Runs with Scissors shirts. She would probably think it's cute, and I would be the only one who would know to what it was actually referring. Of course, since she sometimes pops in here and reads my blog, I guess that idea has now lost its pizzazz. (Hi Sweetie. Yep - talking about you. Go away now. Love you!)
And the news. The News! My God, the NEWS! London, Rove, Arrests, SCOTUS. I've been missing it all. Because I absolutely abhor television, haven't been blogging, or checking in with other sites, or even hitting internet news at work. Something must be wrong with me.
Ahhhh. I believe I may have found the reason for my foul and bitter mood. News withdrawal. Well, okay. News withdrawal, water-less fish feelings at work, ice cream over dose, a daughter who has morphed into scissor girl, and very not-sweet peas. You try all that on all at once and see if you can maintain a cheerful disposition and not be tempted to grab the ceiling fan and spin, legs splayed, kicking over every lamp in the room for the sheer fun of it - while wishing the shades were the heads of your new (and not so new) coworkers. Well, okay. A ceiling fan would probably fall out of the ceiling and ruin the whole thing. Especially with my extra 10 lbs of ice cream blubber. But, you get the idea.
Okay. You may peep now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)