He's not on Angie's list...

The other day when we demo'd the other bedroom, you know how I mentioned it was a breeding ground for mold? I may have exaggerated a bit but the insulation was definitely black instead of pink. People, we pulled this insulation out for a reason. It had been pinned up against the roof for decades, collecting moisture and acting as an impromptu petri dish. We yanked it all out to stop the spread of black lung.

Not a day later I looked out the Door to Nowhere (yes, we have a Door to Nowhere, just like the Winchester Mystery House) and there was a pickup truck parked next to our dumpster. There's an old guy who eats at the restaurant next door every day at the same time and one afternoon he came over and asked if he could dump some things in our dumpster. Of course Bruce said yes, then asked him what he did for work. He told us that he does odd jobs like drywall and plastering. Both our eyes lit up when he said that since we're both tired of mudding and sanding our shitty, wavy walls. Bruce asked him if he'd be willing to come up and take a look at our drywall to see if he'd be willing to do the rest of the finish work.

To make a long story short, here's my text message to Bruce from the other day:

Me: So not letting old guy in house.
Bruce: Why?
Me: Let's just say, insulation is gone from dumpster.
Bruce: What?
Me: Old guy took it out of dumpster. Eww.
Bruce: He what? That shit was moldy. He's not doing work on house.
Me: What's he going to do with moldy insulation?
Bruce: Don't want to think about it. Tell everyone, don't hire old guy.

I'm guessing he's not on Angie's list...

Jenny Lawson is my HERO!

A couple weeks ago I got voted in as president of the Friends of the West Springfield Public Library. Basically what we do is raise money for the library and help the library stay afloat. The town is supposed to be building a new library but with a new mayor in office the project has run into a number of problems and we are in danger of losing millions of dollars that were granted to us for a new building. Now the Friends are going into overdrive to help raise awareness and funds to keep the project rolling.

So yesterday I emailed a couple of authors that I happen to be a huge fan of and asked if they would be willing to help in some way. Jenny Lawson of Bloggess fame has generously offered signed book plates for her new book Let's Pretend This Never Happened. That means we get to auction off a few copies of one of the funniest books I have read in a long, long time! Jenny is also going to post a blurb on her Twitter supporting the West Springfield Public Library.

Thank you Jenny! You are my hero!!!

Fail

You know you've become a lazy (lousy) housekeeper when you have to use a Clorox wipe to clean off the Clorox toilet wand before you use it because it's just too gross to touch. Eww.

Over the Beagle Limit

Daisy usually likes having her picture taken but, like Bruce, she does NOT like having her sleep disturbed. Especially if it's just so I can blind her with the flash. She has been my victim ever since I got my new camera and she's tired of the "momarazzi".

So like I said, the vet tells me she has an anxiety disorder. I did indeed tell him it was probably some sort of puppy PTSD, or Beagle Bipolar. Hehehe. But it goes so far beyond that with this dog. She's dumb. In fact, she's a complete moron. I have never before met a dog that can fall up the same three stairs every day no matter what. Up the stairs, mind you. Today she went to get out of Bruce's new truck and snout planted on the driveway. Right now she has a giant sticky spot of barbecue sauce on her noggin from a rib I tossed to her. Needless to say she can't catch.

Daisy also has this terrible habit of dumpster diving. Well not actually dumpster diving because our dumpster is far too tall for her to get into. Though I do see her eyeing it occasionally like she'd really like to try scaling it. But she does go through every other trash container in the house including the one in the bathroom. She's a crafty little pooch. The can in the bathroom has a pedal, a vintage beauty can from about 1950. I assumed that because it was stainless steel and had a pedal that she wouldn't be able to get into it. She can't figure out how to climb stairs but she sure as hell figured out how to open the trash can! And if she finds something really yummy in the trash, she likes to take it in the bedroom and roll on it. On the bed. And she prefers...ahem..unmentionables.

In spite of the fact that she currently reeks of garbage, pee, and just general dirty dog, she has decided that she loves me and I love her back. Since Bruce works days and I teach at night, Daisy and I get a lot of quality time during the day. Basically we're left alone together far too often. Note the orange claws. They were lavendar last week.

"And three little lines..."

I'm not allowed to measure things in our house. Mostly because of the incident with the stairs but also because one time Bruce asked me how long something was and I said, "14 inches and one...two...three little lines." Apparently that was not the right answer.

We also learned I have zero depth perception to go along with my masterful measuring skills. Bruce asked me to cut out a piece of plywood to make the new landing for the attic stairs. I was very proud of myself when I measured and drew out the whole thing since it has a ton of angles and corners in order to fit around doors and walls. Apparently, even though I followed the rules and "measured twice to cut once" my measuring skills are so horrid that when we went to lay down the cut board it didn't fit. At all. In any way. In fact it looked like a dyslexic blind toddler cut it. Seven cuts later Bruce jammed it into place and we don't talk about it. Ever.

In February Bruce was getting ready to fly to San Diego for business. I helped him pack his suitcase with the suit we scrambled to get (that's a whole other story) and the 500 other things he needed. By the time we were finished the thing weighed a ton and Bruce was sitting down to do his pre check-in thingy online. Apparently it asks how heavy your checked bags are. Approximately.

I lifted it by the handle, thought for a second and said, "It's approximately two Daisies heavy."