| Backlog | 4/13/2006 |
Thanks, guys, for picking a most inopportune time to do that task. I really, REALLY could benefit from about 11 loads of laundry right now (and a shower would be nice, too, and the dishwasher), but we're not supposed to be 'heavy users' during this time, so as to not disturb the sediment that could cause our whites to be dull, and our showers to spew brown water.
My folks just hit the road. Going back to Canada via the Oregon Coast. I hope they don't get washed away. Maybe it'll be drier there than it's been here.
They've been staying with us the past 4 days. Right in the heart of nasty rainstorms. So much for all the outside work that I wanted to get done with them while they are here. The brick wall in the back yard is on hold for another visit. And the laminate flooring upstairs was just a non-starter, because of the icky weather. Who wants to be ripping carpet and sticking it outside in the monsoon?
So instead, we just did little projects. The kids played a lot (inside. Oh, my grey hair! Yes, it was the indoor pillow fight [code name: Demolition] that popped Kelly's first tooth out), and my mom did basic spring cleaning (because she's driven that way) and my dad did all sorts of home improvements. The nail holes in the MDF around the new sliding doors are all filled now, thanks to his ambition, and Skip's new-found skills with the caulking gun.
The sprinkler in the front yard is no longer rusted out, and I have new-found skills with the PVC pipe cutters and the blue stinky PVC glue. A big orchid is in a new pot on the front porch. My bedside table, with the drawers that didn't slide worth crap, is now a smooth sliding piece of art, and we've got a new 4-in-1 screwdriver out of the deal, thanks to dad's frustration with our meagre little collection of non-appropriate tools. Mom and Skip cut out his 'manta ray quilt' from lime green polar fleece and teal blue fun-fur, and now it's just up to me (and Skip) to sew the thing together.
The guest bath sink no longer runs slowly, thanks to dad's skills with a bent coat hanger, and his ability to move past his gag reflex when he saw a hair-clog the size of a small rotting dog.
The back fence no longer has a big gaping hole in it, welcoming in every last deer and coyote in the neighbourhood. Woot! And when dad was fixing the fence, and I was watching (in the rain! I'm such a good daughter), I found a jasmine trying to move into our yard from the neighbour's place, so now we have a nice jasmine vine trailing over the fence. And a honeysuckle! Who knew?
Dad also fixed my garden arbor, which had blown down in the rain storms more times than I'd care to tell. And he anchored it, and levelled it, and braced it, so it won't blow over again. Woot!
And the calla lilies are repotted, and gracing the arbor. And the back fence is lined with Euryops, which should grow into great honking bushes of yellow daisy-goodness in a year or two. And there are Iceland poppies in the front garden, and the icky pots full of dead plants have been turned into good soil at the back fence, and all the old icky pots are full of good new soil, and ready for me to plant veggies in them when the rains actually stop. Perhaps that should be IF the rains actually stop.
And we went through the front yard, and dug up all the prickly weeds so the kids can scamper around in bare feet, and not worry about cactus-like attacks.
And Dad and Skip fixed Kelly's dragonfly light, when it suddenly became possessed by the devil, and turned on all by itself and wouldn't turn off. So now Skip has these wonderful soldering skills, and nobody had to go to the hospital, and he didn't burn down the house.
And the kids made eleventy thousand forts out of all the blankets on their beds, dragged downstairs to the family room, so they could entertain Nonie while she crocheted.
And Skip played as many hours of Runescape as was humanly possible. I dragged him away from the computer a couple of times a day, just so that his grandparents wouldn't forget that he still lived with us, and also so he could play the piano and trumpet for them (but not both at the same time, of course), and make them get all misty-eyed over his wonderful musical talents.
And mom and I went shopping. Ross was good to us, as was Savers, the wonder Thrift Store.
And, and, and. It was a great visit. I just wish that it hadn't rained nearly every waking moment.
And go me! April 10th was the deadline for Property Tax, and on the 8th, I walked RIGHT to the place where the tax bill was, and RIGHT to the place where the special cheques are, and RIGHT to the place where I'd already placed the return envelope (stamped, and everything) and got that sucker paid and DONE. Yes, it was still aneurysm time when I had to write the enormous number on the cheque, but at least I didn't have the added stress of not knowing where everything was.
(of course, in an ideal world, the "Very Safe Place" for the property tax form wouldn't be in the cupboard with the Kool-Aid jug, but that's where I REMEMBER it, so that's where it goes)
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