Warning: Lock your car doors, here I come.

Egad, it's happened yet again.  I've done something so embarassing I'm still blushing two days later.  I'm hoping that writing it down will help me get it out of my mind so I can stop cringing.

I spent a majority of Saturday turning over a new garden.  I finished around 3:30, and happy with myself for actually completing a gardening project before September comes, I felt the need to celebrate with a glass of wine.  But I wanted white, and there was not a drop to be found in the house.  So, in a filthy Fenway Park t-shirt and cutoffs c. 1988, along with dirt all over my hands, face, and legs I hauled my tired butt into Jay's car and headed over to the packy (my car is getting almost un-drivable--if there's another car available, I'm all over it).  Seriously, I have no shame.  I looked about as bad as it gets, but happy hour was calling my name.

Once at the package store and my mission completed with wine in hand, I headed to back to the car.  When I got in, I noticed on the passenger seat a slip of paper with some woman's name and address on it along with a printout for some type of dinner benefit.  I hadn't noticed it before, and I began to wonder who had the nerve to open the door of another person's car and put something in it?  Then I noticed a wallet in the middle console.  I picked it up and then the red warning lights started flashing in my head.  Oh, crap, I was in the wrong freaking car!  In a blind panic, I threw the wallet down,  grabbed my own wallet and my bag o'wine (so I thought) and beat it out of there, ran to my car and got in, talking out loud to myself the whole time, saying something like, "omigodomigodomigodomigod!"  Then I looked over at the seat next to me in my car and realized I had grabbed the other person's bag of groceries along with my stuff.  All I could think was, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!  Then, just as I was heading back to the mystery car to return the stolen bag of groceries, the owner of that car came out of the store and  headed to her car, the same time as me.

 At this point, all I could do was shrug and think, "Waddaya gonna do?"  In my best attempt at trying to be as carefree as I could about the situation, I told the woman that she was going to think I was a complete lunatic (and let's remember how spiffy I was looking), but that I had accidentally gotten in her car, and then in a panic to leave had grabbed her grocery bag.  It was my lucky day.  She was laughing as I apologized profusely and then skulked away, tail between my legs and my face a perfect shade of crimson under the layer of dirt.

If I had taken my dented red Subaru, this never would have happened because no other car looks like that puppy. Black cars are just too damned confusing!

What Jay's car looks like.

What my car looks like.  No questioning the difference!

OK, I've put it out there and hopefully I'll stop groaning every time I think about what an idiot I can be.  Until the next time.

Urgent-ish Warts and Lice Update!

I think the Warts & Lice sign may have gone missing.  I was at the pharmacy and it was not there.  I was so shocked I took a picture (for a change).  It's not very good because I had to hide behind a display out of the line of vision of the pharmacist.  I didn't want him to think I was crazy or anything, taking pictures of him and Band-Aids.

Missing. 

Here's the quandry:  I'm not entirely sure I was in the correct location of this certain line of stores.  There are two separate stores equidistant from my house and my middle-age-addled brain could not remember where I took the original photo.  So, this could just be the wrong store.  BUT, if that's the case, then my question inquiring about all the stores having Warts & Lice signage is answered with a resounding no.  Still, I'm hoping somebody scoffed it because they thought it was as great as I do.  Not that I condone stealing or the like.

Coming Clean

Today was floor-washing day in our house.  After a week or two (or three or four, who's counting?) of dirty cleats, track shoes, and hiking boots and eight muddy paws traveling through the house, it was beyond necessary.  I was thinking I might be able to grow radishes and carrots on the kitchen floor if I installed a couple of fluorescent light bulbs. 

Which leads me to my question of the day:  Why is the filthy water that's left in the bucket after a big cleaning job so fascinating to stare at and make the "iiiiiihh" noise?  I'll admit it.  I love to check out the water after I wash our floors because it is so freaking disgusting.  Am I the only one who can become thoroughly engrossed with something as nasty as this?  I'm really hoping not. 

Once again, I blame my crazy neat-freak mother for this bizarre fixation.  Growing up with three sisters, I'm sure they can all attest to the following:  After washing her kitchen floors our mother would stand with one hand on her hip, which would be jutting off to the side while she rested her other hand on the kitchen counter.  Then she would exclaim accusingly while we stood there, "Look at how dirty this water is!"  As if it was all our fault.  Never mind that our father was always outside in his garden, puttering about and tracking dirt in.  Or that we always had cats, dogs, and various other vermin that we had rescued (from the clutches of said cats) milling around.  And so we got to check out the grossness.  And so that is what I now do as a grown woman.

Sorry, but I have to do this:

"Just LOOK at it!"

And now, upon looking at the above illustration of filth,  you can feel happy in the fact that your house does not produce this, or if it does, you're certainly not the only one!  Happy Friday!

CSI: K-9 Unit

The latest victim of Pippet, well-known and yet elusive serial killer of soft & fluffies.  Investigators are estimating that the pheasant's life lasted a mere 3 hours total, cause of death:  aggravated and manic chewing.

There are no known witnesses available for questioning.

Holy Tiny Tubes of Toothpaste, Batman!

Yesterday afternoon I skirted disaster by discovering that I had left the gas running unlit on my stove, eventually smelling the funky fumes that had accumulated in the kitchen for about 20 minutes.  That could have led to some bad s**t going down.

That flipped a switch in my brain, telling me I best get a little more in touch with my inner Keeper of the House.  In my convoluted pattern of thought, I figured I should do a little karmic work and pay back the gas gods for not blowing up our house.  How better to do this than to do something nice for someone else?  I chose Jay, my husband and usual target/victim.  I went to work on cleaning out the front pockets of the suitcase he uses for work travel.

Amazing what curiosities you can find when performing these kinds of tasks.  Amid the half-used packages of cold medicine, abundant boarding passes from what looked like the early 90's, and little cocktail swords (who knew those would be allowed through airport security?), was this gem:

Finding this led me to either of two conclusions:

• Jay has a doll house hobby that I am completely unaware of
• a toothpaste manufacturer in Japan is going way overboard in trying to impress the TSA with their tiny packaging  

Or maybe I just live such a sheltered life that I don't know that this is standard travel size for tubes of toothpaste.  I was too tired to bother to ask him by the time he got home from work, so the answer remains a mystery.

And this is the fascinating adventure leaving the gas on can bring you, as well, if you so desire.

Cold and Rainy Monday Mornings are Pure Evil

I woke up cranky.  And here's why:

Week after week, here in our little northeast corner of the US, we have been graced with the most amazing weather.  Ever.  More like late June than early to mid April.  And then yesterday happened, and all of that went away far too quickly for any one's liking.  Unless you're my husband, who still is holding out for more snow so he can get one last weekend of skiing in.  Dummy.  Anyway, you go to bed Saturday night thinking summery thoughts, and wake up Sunday morning ready to pull out every last bit of wool and Polartec you own because your teeth can't stop chattering from the cold.  How the hell does that happen?
 
I was in our local pharmacy this morning and walked by the bottles of Hawaiian Tropic Deep Tanning Oil on display.  They were smugly ridiculing me.  I could hear their nasty, little screechy voices taunting, "Base tan?  Dream on!  Say goodbye to what you've got, cuz it'll be all gone by next weekend, loser!  Pale and pasty FOREVER!"
 
I ran away and found myself in front of a sign that always makes me laugh.  I keep a picture of it on file just for this kind of occasion:

I wonder if every town has a sign made for this section in their local pharmacy, or is it just ours?  Makes me ponder about where I live.  Maybe we have lots of witches and ogres living in the more secluded sections.

So, even though it is cold, dank, rainy, and gross outside and summer is back out of reach for the moment,  there are still bits of oddness out there that can make us smile.  If you woke up cranky this morning like me, here's hoping you find your very own warts and lice to make you smile.

Haphazard Observations

Things I have realized in the past week:

• Bob's Red Mill Meusli is the best food on the planet.  I can pretend I'm eating healthy while actually just picking out all the bits of dates and raisins before going back to the good-for-you seeds & grains.
• You can easily gouge the surface of your eye with the softest of eyeliners.  Usually the result of rushing to apply while at the same time finishing hair, squawking at the kids to let the dogs out, and cleaning up the bathroom.  
• Blackberries remind me of the abdomens of black carpenter ants.  And now that I've put it down in writing, that will surely forever be the case.  No way I'm going to stop eating them though.  The berries, not the ants.

Am I right?

• Applying different samples of new hues of paint to a wall will increase the time it takes to get that room painted a million-fold.  I'm beginning to wonder if I can start a new decorating trend of color-blocked walls and just ditch painting my bedroom.
• The elastics from my son's braces have the capacity to reproduce all over my floors, tables and countertops like rabbits.
• If you water houseplants regularly, they'll actually thrive.  I have three (!) plants that have stayed alive in my house since last November.  I think this may be a record.  I'm trying for a full year of keeping them green and healthy rather than brown and, well, dead.  That may be a stretch.
• Is there really a need for "jumbo" sized eggs?
• The combination of a hot shower, pajamas still warm from the dryer, and fresh flannel sheets on the bed on a chilly night are better than any sleeping pill on the market.