July 31, 2010


Drunk Blogging

Okay. Tipsy blogging. I worked outside most of the day, hauling weeds and ripping out that yellow weed stuff. Goldenrod. Stuff was 6 feet tall. Thought is was all yanked last year, but like that weird smell in the garage, it keeps coming back.

About that weird smell in the garage. I thought - I really thought - that maybe something had snuck in and died. We put a new garage door on last year, which is awesome, except if something manages to get in, then we close it, it can't get out. So, this odd smell was in there, and I was too chicken to move the piles of ancient hockey equipment to find out what archeological experiment might be nestled in there.

So. First, I hauled all the blue boxes (4 - wine bottles have to go somewhere), the garbage cans and the green bin out back. The green bin was in a class all its own. I hosed out everything, and scrubbed them all down. As I was up to my armpits at the bottom of garbage can, I wondered just how much worse life could get. So I did the green bin, and found out.

Then I tossed all the hockey crap. I asked Ari if any of it was any good. "It's all moldy," he told me, as he left for work. I've been hanging onto this stuff for how long? The good news? No small bodies underneath the equipment.

So I cleaned all the garbage. I bagged a ton of weeds and goldenrod. And I beat the rain. When I can't write, I weed. Cheapest, best therapy in the world. Until the neighbours hear you talking to yourself. Or your father. That can get tricky.

But it's been a decent day on the neighbour front. The people putting in the ginormous swimming pool held off on the backloader for most of the day. Which is a good thing, as it's been going for over a week, long after acceptable hours. I've skipped from calling bylaw; I'm just gonna call the cops and tell them where a homicide is about to take place.

That Twitter thing is making me nuts; I subscribe, or 'follow' a bunch of newsy places. I see a headline that some football player has an injured leg, and all I can think is 'are they gonna have to shoot him?'. I think I need more wine.

Sigh.

7 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

One night years ago, after receiving a call from the vet saying that my cat had to be put down, I spent the rest of the evening crying, drinking and wallpapering the kitchen. It was not pretty.

July 31, 2010 6:55 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

I'm sorry.

I wallpapered my bathroom in a similar state. But it was a husband, not a cat. And he couldn't be put down.

I put up black paper.

Sigh.

July 31, 2010 6:59 PM  
Anonymous buzzwhack said...

You wallpapered over a husband? Man, that is some serious textured wall papering!

July 31, 2010 10:54 PM  
Anonymous jmd said...

Footnote to drunken wallpapering - the next day my two youngest got horsing around in the kitchen, and one of them put his butt cheek right through the newly papered wall. More drinking and papering was required.

August 01, 2010 10:01 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I wallpapered once...only once...I will never do it again. I moved rather than deal with changing it.

August 01, 2010 10:50 AM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

I still have the black paper in the bathroom. It's been 13 years.

The cats have peeled it away in many spots. It looks as terrible as it sounds.

There is also a border in the bedroom, up high. The cats have peeled that. When they were kittens, they would jump to the top of the dresser and reach up and peel it.

I don't know whether to get rid of wallpaper or cats.

August 01, 2010 10:53 AM  
Anonymous OwlSaysWho said...

Have you recovered yet? Sounds like a heckuva day. And regarding the wallpaper/cats dilemna . . . I say wallpaper, but then, I would.

August 02, 2010 3:48 PM  

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