The Amazing Bubble Machine

Right around this time last year, I enlisted the dear Mr. Demonic to allow me to remodel the bathroom in the older part of the house. It was an eyesore, painted completely peacock blue. Tres ugly. In order to sway his thinking, I had to work on him for a couple of years, because as we all know, Mr. D is cheap, um…  “thrifty.” Instead of stomping my feet, which I have been known to do in my youth, I used my feminine wiles by offering early morning seduction in the office. Before you think I’m that good, I’m not. What really clinched the deal was that my son was coming home last Christmas with his girlfriend. We needed a decent bathroom, especially with two more bodies in the house.

Our house was built in 1927. The front part of it is the old part. The previous owners, a romance novelist and her attorney (now ex-) husband added the back part on about ten years ago, so our family room, master bedroom and bath, along with the kitchen is new and wonderful. The old part is old and charming and wonderful in a different way.

When we first moved in four years ago, I wanted a new garage. This is because the garage was original to the house, meaning it’s very narrow and small. In addition, the windows are leaky, the roof and walls had holes in them, thus allowing for critter invasion, and there was no way to lock it. The garage also sits adjacent to our deck, also put in by the previous owners, and should be located a few feet away so as not to hit your head on the eaves. This has happened so many times to so many people, I put hanging baskets, bird houses and wind chimes in the general area so people won’t wander over and bean themselves in the head. There is also no automatic garage door opener, so in the winter when I park in there, I have to wrestle the door up and down to get my car out.

Needless to say, Mr. D did not want a new garage. I was quite pissed off too. I wanted a decent home for my car, then a Monte Carlo. He thought it a waste of money, but he doesn’t park in the garage. When you drive a car with 185,000 miles on it, there is no need to shelter it from anything. (I’m praying for something to happen just so he can get an upgrade.) Mr. D also foresaw the recent financial collapse back in 2005 at the time I was lobbying for a garage, so I guess the end result is that I’m happy he ruled with his iron (gloved) fist that day.

Fast forward to the bathroom. It was the only fugly spot in the house. I longed for years to demolish the thick peacock blue walls. If Mr. D Jr.’s impending homecoming was the impetus for change, I was all for it. However, I insisted on the bathroom of my dreams.

Although the space is small (1927 bathrooms are very tiny, it’s probably no more than 6 x 6), I wanted nice granite, oak cabinet, artistically tiled walls and floor, and a Jacuzzi tub. This is because in our master bath, we do not have a Jacuzzi tub, and people, when you are my age, there are sometimes days in a row when one needs it. I didn’t need to get a genuine Jacuzzi, but the bubble tub of my dreams would have to have sufficient jet action to alleviate minor aches and pains.

Off to the plumbing supply store I went. I had them fill several tubs and tested the water pressure. There are tubs that bubble like simmering pots of water. These are stupid. If you want to sit in a simmering pot of water, place a large can outside and set a nice healthy fire under it. I finally settled on a Kohler which was small enough to fit into my teeny tiny bathroom yet powerful enough for my occasional kinks.

There were many obstacles to the completion of said bathroom, and it took until the end of January to finish it. Let’s just say that Murphy’s Law played a big part in the delay. That’s another blog post altogether. Finally it was complete, but I was not to enjoy my tub until the summer, after Ms. MiniD was out of the house. That’s because she took it over and cluttered it up with her miscellaneous crap.

Once she was gone, I invited Mr. D to a soak, and we jumped in. Finally, even Mr. D discovered the joys of my tub. We use it all the time.

This past weekend, we were subjected to several days’ blast of icy winter. Mr. D, being a tightwad, um thrifty, decided to do most of the snow removal himself, with shovel and snowblower. Fourteen inches of snow is a lot of snow. By Sunday night, he was pooped.

I unfortunately put a little too much bubble bath in the water. Here is a photo of Mr. D. It’s after I had gotten out of the tub. (There has never been a published photo of Mr. D in WordPress, so this is a World Premier.) Imagine a thick trail of bubbles spilling over the floor and into the hallway. There were bubbles everywhere, but we laughed about it. Actually, it was more like squealing. Ms. MiniD thought we were nuts.

bubble-bath

You don’t know how much I love that tub.

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Coming Soon…

Mr. Demonic takes a bubble bath in the bubble tub. There are photographs. However, it will have to wait until tomorrow, since I forgot my camera. Don’t worry. Rated G.

Lower Tundra Weather Update

It’s friggin’ freezing outside! No, it’s Super-Friggin’ cold!

Well, let me amend that. It’s 15 degrees and dropping. The wind is blowing gusts of 45 mph, meaning I don’t care how well your house is built, it feels like you’re outside if you’re unlucky enough to sit by a window. I am thusly unlucky, since most of my house is window. With the wind gusts, it’s about 0 degrees counting windchill. Needless to say, my wind chimes are rocking.

The dog went out, peed quickly, and came back inside. She wouldn’t do #2 outside, and instead picked a nice spot right by the door. (I can’t blame her, not on a day like today.) The cat poked his head out for less than a second and thought better of the game of having Mr. Demonic chase him around the yard. Besides, there’s about a foot of snow, making small animals going into the yard look like they are drowning in snow drifts.

Mr. D went out to plow the lots. Not with the plow, mind you, because we don’t have a plow. With a snowblower and snow shovel. One lot is about 10,000 square feet, almost an acre. With the wind blowing as it is, I am thinking it is an exercise in futility, but you can’t tell him anything.

I hear that even my southern neighbors are getting a nice dose of winterly blast. So much for global warming.

It’s only 11 a.m., but I’m going to get myself a hot toddy.

Notice: For Little Fluffy Cats Who Love to Nag

Due to a shortage of personnel (the Sick Man likely gone for good, my Number 2 in maternity leave, and my Number 3 on vacation), yesterday I worked 12 hours straight. I wasn’t totally alone, though. Ms. MiniD’s ex-BDJ (aka boy du jour) who used to work here, came back from college for Christmas break. He  was looking for something to do, hours, money, and lucky for me, he fell into my lap.

I didn’t realize that I would be here that long until about 12 noon, when I looked up and thought, “Oh, hell! I’m going to be here another seven and a half hours,” at which point I hastily left to make a pit stop at the Post Office and back home. I retrieved my laptop and brought it back to work with me.

This notice is for the Little Fluffy Cat who loves to nag: Last night, I pounded out a chapter and a half and 5,000 words while waiting for the phone to ring. (Obviously, it didn’t, or I wouldn’t have had the time to accomplish so much.)

The Cat is one of my biggest cheerleaders, and she also has a strong streak of momliness in her too. Lately, the momliness is more apparent than the cheerleader, but I don’t mind her continual chipping away at my bad habit of procrastination. This is because I know I’m being bad, and I need something nipping at my ankles, now more than ever.

Thank you Little Fluffy Cat. If you see me on Facebook, I know you’ll yell. Just remember, all work and no play makes the Pandemonic a sad literary figure.

Time Sucking Headache and Other Stuff

I don’t know if I can work on my novel today.

Yesterday, I reached the over 26K mark for November, just slightly over halfway for NaNoWriMo. In the total novel-picture, I’m sliding down past halfway. The end is in sight. Of course, it took me a year and a half to get to this point, but I’m hoping that I have learned a valuable lesson in time management this month. Either that, or I’ll return to my procrastinating ways and won’t be finished for another year and a half.

I would be working on my book today, but I have a killer headache. I’ve been treating it with advil because I also have a killer neck ache from sleeping like a pretzel last night. That is because Maxx the cat bed-hogged my side of the bed and I couldn’t turn over. Mr. Demonic claimed that as a result, I was bed-hogging his side of the bed. No way, Jose. I was contorted and couldn’t move.

There are other time sucking problems. Our manager at work ended up in the hospital a week ago last Monday. He’s 60 and an only child. Mr. D tried to call his mother over on the Left Coast of the state, and that took three days. She’s 87, and what happened was Mr. D had someone pick her up from her city and bring her to ours. The sick man wanted her to stay in his apartment, but we ended up having her stay with us. That’s because the sick (and hopefully soon to be permanently disabled) man was living in filth and squalor. No really. Think “garbage house” and multiply that by 1000.

Now before someone starts yelling at me about being the Man and putting my employees down, not paying them a decent wage, blah, blah, blah… the sick man actually gets paid pretty damn well. Too well. He’s spent the last six months sleeping six hours each day on the job. The girls and I would wake him on a regular basis. My husband, the boss and the infamous Mr. D, was largely unimpressed. In fact, he was getting madder and madder by the day, and had planned on speaking with the sick man the week the guy ended up in the hospital. Obviously, he had to put that plan on the back burner.

The sick man is a terrible smoker. He’s also an alcoholic. No, really. I mean, severely alcoholic. We had an indication when we have had the opportunity to be in social situations with the guy. If left to make his own drink, it would consist of 99% alcohol and 1% mix. He’s also done some very annoying and embarrassing things while drunk. It is more than likely that his grave condition was due to smoking and drinking. The mother has no clue. Her ex-husband (the sick man’s father) recently died. He was a big smoker and drinker. (Duh.)

Yesterday, the sick man was finally released from the hospital. I bid a teary farewell to the mother. I have a feeling she is going to be waging an uphill battle with the sick guy. She might be older than dirt, but she’s a nice woman, and deserves a better son than the one she has. His mood to her of late has been testy and mean, and that pisses me off. She’s so sweet. She knows about my novel and is very supportive. In fact, instead of talking, she let me go off for a few hours and write, while she watched TV. We exchanged phone numbers and addresses, and I told her if she needed anything at all to call me.

The sick man must have oxygen for the next six months. He hasn’t said what is wrong with him, although he did reveal that his blood has no oxygen and his red blood cell count is high. When I went to the hospital to visit him, his legs were completely black from the knees down, and the skin was like an elephant’s. It was totally gross. If someone knows what condition that is, I’d appreciate a head’s up.

It’s also been snowing the past couple of days. Grace, the dog, does not like to go outside to do her business in this cold weather. I’m not so happy about it either. She sometimes #2s in the house, but that’s not a problem, unless someone steps in it. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened much.

And of course, times are getting tougher. I don’t think there’ll be much for Christmas. That’s okay. The holiday has lost its meaning if you ask me. I might even go to church, although not the one affiliated with my kids’ school. I need a place where there’s not a lot of singing. My head and all, you know.

Anyway, today I have a headache.

That is all.

Introducing Grace the Dog

I recently adopted a Boston Terrier from their rescue. Here is Grace, the Dog:

grace

She’s really a sweetheart. Maxx the cat is not impressed, but then again, I didn’t expect him to be.

OK, I’m going to the hospital, then back to the writing mines. See you in a few.

NaNoWriMo Update Day 7

Over 12,000 words so far!

I’m not really a machine, but I’m trying to get the bulk of the writing done before Mr. Demonic comes back to town tomorrow night. Then it will be payroll, holiday, limited Christmas shopping and playing with the new dog. (I forgot to tell you, I got a dog! Will post photos next week!)

Here’s another photo in the meantime. It’s Maxx. I’m reading all y’all, just not commenting all the time.

maxx21