in case you wondered

This is the daily routine in my world:

5:45--wake up, fall out of bed, shower, brush, dress, blow dry, stumble to the car.
6:45--on the road
7:30--arrive at work where I will stay for 10-11 hours
5:45--stumble back to the car and drive in semi-conscious state to either a) home or b) school
6:30--arrive at either school or home where I will pick several of the following to entertain me for the evening a) laundry, b) dinner, c) dishes, or d) all of the above and more
10:00--stumble back to bed.

(Of course, Fridays are different because I get up earlier so I can make it to my 7:00 class with the extra 45 minute drive each way before I go to work. Never again will I take a 7:00 a.m. class. Remind me of this if I even think about it.)

The other options are Saturdays and Sundays when I rise just as early and either go to school (which involves driving and varying levels of irritation depending on whether my Business Law instructor begins his lecture by merely discussing the political/economic events of the week as he sees them through his fox news lens or instead, as he did yesterday, opens his internet browser on the screen so we can all read along to items he finds of interest on the drudge report--yep, it's been nearly 36 hours since that happened yesterday and I'm still fuming. First time I've ever just gotten up and walked out of class.)

Okay. Where was I? Oh yeh, either go to school on Saturday or go to the rental house to continue the remodel.

And speaking of the remodel. Jack and Jr have spent numerous hours there and have made progress. The rewiring is, in my opinion, about 3/4 complete. They also moved enough pipes and such yesterday that they were able to sheetrock over the hole in the wall at the bottom of the stairs and soon will be able to re-install the bottom six steps. They pulled or pushed down the floor/wall/ceiling addition that the people we bought the house from had installed in the stairwell. Maybe I hadn't mentioned that addition--it's the place where they nailed in some wood so there could be a washer and dryer both upstairs and downstairs. Sounds like a great idea for a rental, right? Except for two things--a) it wasn't installed all that soundly so it was just a matter of time before the addition fell to the basement (one too many out of balance wash cycles), and b) it was installed soundly enough that it hurt like hell anytime anyone taller than me went down the stairs and forgot to duck and hit his head on the bottom of that addition.

Today, I planned to tape and mud the sheetrock Jack and Jr installed yesterday in the stairwell. I used a pair of pliers to pull open the bucket of mud (think about opening a gallon jug of milk but the size of a five-gallon bucket--that plastic strip you pull off that winds around the lid is hard to pull, so I grabbed it with pliers, because, well, I'm just so smart about construction, right?) But, of course, after I peeled off the plastic strip, I still couldn't get the lid off. Jack saw me struggling with it and came over to snap back each of the eight or so sections around the bucket so the lid would come off. As he snapped the last section, I looked at him and said, "Everything about this house is so hard." And he agreed.

For fun, I'm posting a few of the pictures Jr took of the attic. See, he's the only one who's willing to go up there to pull wires. I'm telling you, this kid is gold.

This is old wiring. Old, bare wires attached higglety-pigglety.

This is the little teeny opening to the attic. The kid is gold.

see it's like this

Almost twenty-five years ago, I met this wonderful woman. She was probably old enough to be my mom, but was so kind and smart and thoughtful and caring that we became friends. I like to think we were good friends. I suspect that everyone who knew her felt like she was a good friend. She was just that kind of person.

She was one of those good people. A truly honest, good person who tried to be the best and tried to help everyone around her be the best they could be.

I suppose the best word to describe her would be love. Charitable, selfless love.


Last Christmas we got a card and letter from her and her dear partner. It told of their now-grown children and their adored grandchildren, and it also talked about her illness, a progressively worsening illness. I wept as I read it aloud to Jack because I sensed then that her time in this place was short. I grieved even then the loss of such a good soul in this world.

Earlier this week, thoughts of her came into my mind. I thought I should visit or call. But I didn't. I haven't seen her for several years, probably not since we moved away and they moved away. But still, I thought of her and told myself I needed to see her, visit with her, chat, check up on her. But I didn't.


Jessie called me today to tell me she'd seen a post on Facebook that indicated my friend passed away, surrounded by family, holding the hand of her sweetheart. My heart aches for her, for her family, her sweet husband. I feel a large gaping hole ripped into my world tonight.

i might just be in a mood

Spent easily four hours trying to get turbotax to efile my return, but it wouldn't because I had problems with line 10 on my form 4562. Seems that you have to insert the amount from line 13 of last year's return...something to do with depreciation on the rental house...except that I never filled out a form 4562 this year or last year. Oh wait, turbotax filled one out for me last year, but line 13 had a zero, which I tried unsuccessfully to insert onto line 10 of this year's form. I say unsuccessfully because it wouldn't accept the zero.

But see, I showed em. I just deleted all references to the rental and re-entered it all. Only dropped my refund by one thousand dollars. Yes, that's right. One thousand dollars.

But I felt a certain urgency to file in hopes of receiving my refund before the government shuts down.

Skybird, if you're out there, what the heck is a form 4562?

an admission or two

I am getting old. Apparently.

Two recent events have forced me to recognize this fact.

1. This:

I was totally surprised to see these beauties poking through the mulch this year. I do not remember planting them. At all. My memory is going, going, gone. I'm just hoping that the majority of future surprises are this type of delightful.

2. Unfortunately, I know that will not be the case. This one I'm embarrassed to even admit. I may not be able to even admit it. But let me start by apologizing again to Stu, Shi, and Jr. I can't even explain how it happened. But my friends all tell me it's a part of aging. Even still, so embarrassed. I will try to avoid future repeat performances. See, guys can do this all the time and get away with it. I grew up with a dad who regularly said, "Pull my finger" and even now, I have to make myself say, "No, dad, I won't pull your finger." There. Enough said. How embarrassing. Sorry, kids.

so fast it's a blur

Jack and I went to California for a few days to celebrate Breanne's birthday. Yesterday, we all drove to Santa Cruz, a nice sandy beach with an amusement park nearby. The girls seemed to enjoy it all and Jack took lots of pictures of them on the rides--

Most of the pics show Breanne, smiling, waving, clearly understanding the concept of a parade wave...

Janey, on the other hand, was a bit timid about all of the noise and movement and hubbub...

and they both seemed a bit bored by the little boats...

Before you know it, we're back home.