Ah… Peace and Quiet

Both of my birdies have flown the coop, and some people have asked me if I am sorry my nest is now empty. I can say with all truthfulness that, no, I rather like being one of two mature adults in a large four-bedroom home. We keep it tidy, and have the bonus of having sex right out in the open whenever we want.

Ah, but that was not to last for long.

Ms. MiniD came home from the Left Coast on Sunday. I don’t know why. She hates it here, and has alienated most of her high school friends with her high jinx regarding her ex-boy du jour. (That’s because her best friend is now with ex-BDJ. It appears the two were commiserating during my daughter’s dumpage of the boyfriend, and ended up together. I say, bully for you! And yes, my daughter is mad at me too, for thinking that.) She has a Left Coast boyfriend, but his mother doesn’t like her. I’m thinking the shelf life on that relationship is coming due soon.

I wanted to make something nice for dinner Sunday, something benign that everyone likes, so I chose a half of pork loin. It’s the new white meat, and I can make gravy, which all Demonics love. (Except for me. That’s because I’m Asian, and they are Bohemian. Bohunks lurve the gravy. They crave it. They bitch when they can’t have any. Me, I can take it or leave it.) I made some of my fresh Brussels sprouts newly picked from the garden and sauteed them with garlic. It was a dish meant for royalty.

Ms. MiniD turned up her nose and said, “I don’t eat pork anymore.” When that happened, I don’t know. She did inform me that she now consumes guacamole. I pointed her to the avocados and told her to have at it. She left with her friend before dinner was ready, and didn’t come back until after I went to sleep.

The next day, Ms. MiniD slept in until noon. She left sometime in the afternoon with her friend, and returned later that night. My husband, the dear Mr. Demonic, could not sleep that night, so he woke up at 2 a.m. to go to the office. (If you saw his office, you would know that he needs many, many 2 a.m. wake up calls to clean up that disaster.) He informed me when he returned at a more decent hour of the morning that Ms. MiniD had male company, and “who was that guy?”

If you know me, you know that I am clueless, particularly when it comes to Ms. MiniD. The other child tells me everything, and this one lies like a rug. Mr. D said the two were awake but under a furry throw, implying that some adolescent hanky was being pankied. I said, “Didn’t you ask her who it was? Didn’t you ask what they were doing?” To which, he replied, “NO!” Mr. D plays the Denial Game to its fullest potential.

Ms. MiniD and her friend have been after my husband to take them snowboarding at the condo. My husband doesn’t snowboard (or ski, or snowmobile) but Ms. MiniD is Daddy’s Little Girl. (Yes, even though she is over 18.) And of course, you know me. I despise our Tundra winter with a passion that could illuminate several Christmas trees, and don’t like to go outside at all until the crocuses pop up.

The upside to all this is that Mr. D, Ms. MiniD, and her friend are now 200 miles away. Last night, I was able to work on my novel for five, uninterrupted, peaceful, gloriously quiet hours. Well, except for Grace the dog snoring at my feet.

The Demonics will be gone until Friday. I’d better take advantage of the peace and quiet and work quickly.

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.

Wintertime in the Rockies

My daughter and I drove to Utah today, about halfway to California.

The past two days on the Front Range have been all about rain. It was a good thing, because they haven’t had much rain in the last month or so. Of course, Mother Nature waited until I drove into town to throw down a monsoon.

When we left this morning, it was cold and still raining steadily. I haven’t seen this kind of rain since we were in NorCal over a Christmas a couple of years ago. That’s when the Napa River flooded the day after we left. It’s usually dry in Colorado, rain normally is an afternoon event, not something lasting three days. I saw four roll-over accidents on the interstate before we drove out of the city limits.

As we took the freeway through the mountains west of Denver, we were shocked to see snow! It was a light dusting, but enough to clog the freeway and cause it to shut down for twenty minutes while the snow plows made a pass just east of the Eisenhower Tunnel.

When we got out of the car on the other side of the tunnel, we weren’t the only ones dazed. The temperature had dropped another twenty degrees, and my daughter and I were shivering in our summer clothes.

The unexpected snowstorm caused me to drive slower than I had expected. We were a few hours behind schedule.

A hundred miles past, on the Western Slope, the temperatures were in the 80s and the sky was blue. Welcome to wintertime in the Rockies.

Dreaming of A Greenhouse Effect

There is upcoming news on the wire that the area will again be hit with another heavy snowstorm. The weather people are predicting eight more inches on top of the six inches we received yesterday. And that was on top of the melting four or five inches that turned into a slick lake of frozen water in my backyard, successfully icing in my pear trees and grape vines.

Oh, whoopee!

I will try not to sound suicidal (or homicidal, right now, at this moment it could go either way) so I took an extra chill pill this morning. I’m beginning to think that the soothing effects of antidepressants are no longer working for me. In order to gather what little sanity I have left before spring (and believe me, I’ve lived through winters like this before. I’ll be surprised if it isn’t snowing on Mother’s Day.), I have decided to think positively, at least for today. I can’t promise what tomorrow will bring, besides the eight inches of snow.

Pardon moi, Al Gore, but I am dreaming of the Greenhouse Effect. It’s not that I want the entire Florida peninsula to disappear under rising sea water (although that would be great fun!), or the North Pole to dissolve leaving polar bears stranded on ice floes, but I need, I desire, I CRAVE some sunshine and fair weather over my own head.

Since I seem to be stranded here at Rust Belt Central, I am wondering if Mr. Demonic can construct a greenhouse for me, enough to cover our house and entire yard. Perhaps he can enlist the help of city leaders and get the entire downtown covered. I’m thinking that would be the best way to tackle the problem. You see, it is 1.1 miles from my house to my office. In between is the downtown area of my city. A large greenhouse spanning the area would solve all problems.

I hear that in Dubai, the rich sheiks there have constructed a similar dome and placed a ski resort in it. In Dubai, they are probably sick and tired of sunshine. You know what they say about the grass being greener somewhere else. They also have more money than a country or people should ever have.

My greenhouse would successfully remove the harshness of winter. Inside the dome, my plants would continue growing far beyond the first frost of October. In fact, I’m thinking winter vegetables can be grown. The Greenhouse Effect would mean my house plants can stay outside all winter. What a great deal for my orchids and cacti. Blooms all year round! I don’t need the scorching sun of Dubai, but it would be nice not to have to venture out in precipitation. Having a greenhouse would mean that what little sunlight makes its way through the clouds would be instantly magnified by glass.

If I had a greenhouse, I could sell my snowblower and shovels.

If I had a greenhouse, I could give away my fur and gloves.

If I had a greenhouse, I could effectively wear light sweaters and jackets all year. My shoes would never be caked with mud and salt.

If I had a greenhouse, I could choose when to put my boots on and go beyond.

Ah, dreams…

Does someone know a sheik’s address? Perhaps one will listen to a personal plea.

Lobbying for Adoption

I’m about “this” close to putting myself up for adoption on eBay. No, it’s not because of this that I’m looking for a new home. It’s because I woke up to six inches of snow, YET AGAIN.

I really don’t know how much more of this I can take. Winter sucks. Royally.

I have a really nice net-friend, and you all know him. He’s My Internet Boyfriend. Beyond the confines of this forum, we share email which can range from sublimely serious to definitively wacky. We’ve known each other for about a year, and I like him a lot. I’ve seen video of his family, and he’s seen video of me singing some country’s national anthem. He even sent me a gift, which was damn nice of him. But before any of you get the notion that our relationship is more than friendship, I guess I would like to clarify. Yes, it is more than friendship. MIB is more like a brother to me.

In an email last week, he was describing a house guest who doesn’t really have a job, but chips in by taking on some household tasks. I thought the guy was one lucky dude. He hit the jackpot by bunking with MIB. So I replied back, “Well, why don’t you adopt me?” His answer dealt along the lines of getting rid of his wife. This was not my intent! My reply was then, “I don’t want you to marry me, I want you to adopt me!”

The more I think about this, the more I like this idea, so I am now lobbying full time for adoption. Think of it! I could be the sister MIB doesn’t have. (He has a sister, but not one like me!) I can cook. I enjoy cleaning and laundry. I can babysit the kids. I have a clean driving record and can shuttle them around. I can run errands. I’m a master with organization and would keep the house tidy. In addition, I’m pretty smart with conversation and I’m no dummy when it comes to Scrabble.

I’m loyal, trustworthy, and honest. And after July, I’ll be without minor children. (What to do with Mr. Demonic… Hmmm… I’m still working on that.)

The trade off is that I would be far, far away from this Rust Belt northern clime. Oh, sure, he’s farther north in another country, but from the sounds of it, his location is rather temperate. When we are under siege by Alberta clippers, he’s enjoying 50 degree days and light jackets. Although located fairly centrally, his city is also much closer to the ocean than I am, which is a huge plus. It appears that the entire area has a strong economic base and the cultural attractions are many.

I wonder if my local Staples has pre-made legal paperwork for applying for adoption?

Barring a hang up in being adopted by MIB, I am hereby taking a waiting list for those who would like to add me as a family member. After that, I’m using eBay.

A Layer of Fog Makes Me Lazy

It snowed last night after an enormous wind and bit of a chill; big, wet and fluffy flakes danced to the earth in the midnight calm. “They” (those meteorologists-who gave them a license to be wrong all the time?) said we could possibly get three to six inches of snow and that news sent the entire area into a panic, but instead we only received a dusting. This morning the temperature warmed to 40 degrees, and now we are covered in a layer of fog as well as a coating of snow.

Since the sky, the houses, and the streets have melted into a canvas of varying shades of gray, my ambition has lost color as well.

I think I will lay in bed, a heating pad on my back, and invite the Space Cadet Kitten to join me under the down.