Anyone need their flowers watered?

September 7, 2012

As the vacation/unemployed week comes to a close, I am using the time to finish up some little projects around the house.  Usually, when I am on vacation from The Target, all I want to do at home is lay on the couch and watch sports or bad movies.  Or that show Las Vegas.  However, since Las Vegas is currently not on the air in Cincinnati, and Steven Seagal has gone into retirement; I have chosen to actually carry my weight around here.  I only weigh a buck fifty-five, so don't expect to be too impressed by this list.

Yesterday, I finally put an end to our see-through windows in the basement.  We used to have shutters covering them from the inside, but they did not go with the remodel.  The windows we have are basement sized, so not too big, but they border the neighbor's driveway and they could look in if they wanted to.  Using the shower in the basement has recently meant an opportunity for voyeurism.  Not any more.  You can buy sheets of light-filtering frosted film that you just cut to size and affix to the window.  It took me about an hour but looks really good.  Now if you want to look in, all you can see are silhouettes.  Even if we are naked, you can't tell so much.  I am guessing my neighbors are wondering why I carry the garden hose around the basement so much whenever Beth and CJ are not here.

Earlier in the week I cleaned the laundry room which involved vacuuming, getting rid of cobwebs, and then mopping the floor.  It needed it and now I don't have to do that until we move someday.  If the neighbors were peeking through the windows while I vacuumed, they may have been wondering why I needed a garden hose while I vacuumed.

You know about the couch cleaning.  The verdict is still out by the way.

Currently, I am washing a couple loads of towels.  If you are reading Beth, I only used 2 capfuls of the HE laundry detergent, not to worry.  Per load. 

I always try to do something wrong when I am using the washer so Beth doesn't expect me to help with the laundry anymore.  Do you think she is on to me?  Sorry, honey.  This is how my father raised me-women do the laundry.  I should not have to do it since I have a garden hose.

JUST KIDDING!!!!!  Do not call Susan B Anthony and have her throw dollar coins at me.

To prove my point, I think it is perfectly okay that Beth cut the grass last night and I trimmed it today.  I think she managed to steer the mower around the yard even without a...you know, garden hose. 

Beth cuts our grass since over the past few years my allergies have gotten so bad that the grass allergy typically would manifest itself into an end result of bronchitis or a sinus infection.  Finally, Beth decided she would rather cut the grass herself than deal with my sorry sick back side.

Cutting and trimming can be an adventure since we are trying to be green.  The mower is battery powered and the trimmer is electric.  The planet has to know I love her if I am willing to deal with the extension cord wrapping around the drain pipe, the trimmer line running out half way through trimming, and then the sweeping with an old-fashioned broom.  It actually isn't too much of a hassle to do the manual sweeping since I see my neighbor across the street has to pull out his gas-powered blower every time he accumulates twelve leaves in his yard.

That about wipes out my list of things to be done.  I need to go swap out the towels to the dryer.  Anyone seen the crayons I sometimes accidentally drop in there with them?

Anyone got an extra hazmat suit?

September 5, 2012

Hey, have any of you guys ever looked at Kristina's mom's photo diary?  She is up there under the 10s of people who follow this blog and she has a photo diary of her daughter (I am guessing Kristina) and she is adorable.  I think she is around 5 now and I think lives in Yugoslavia, maybe.  Anyway, have a look.

As for life in Cincinnati, I did something very exciting today.  No, not the Red's baseball game (though I did do that), but I tried something with our couch.  It requires a backstory though.

Every time I lay on our brown couches in the living room, I get bitten by mosquitoes.  Before you ask, no they are not bedbugs.  Even though Cincinnati is the bedbug capitol of the world (go us!), I know these critters are not the problem.  I am the only one in our family that ever gets bitten on these couches.  Beth is convinced that I am clinically insane.  However, I have visual proof of the bites.  I laid there one night for an hour or so and ended up with like two bites on my elbow and one or two on my neck.  I also had several hundred on my brain as I could not get past it.  I was completely psyched out.

Here is a backstory to the backstory.  Whenever we go outside and are near grass, I get bitten.  Like chocolate is to Mama Cass is like how I am to mosquitoes.  Nice current reference.  My blood is delicioso is what I am trying to say.  I can walk to our shed and back and my ankles are chewed on more than a turkey leg at Disney World.  Beth and CJ can roll in the grass naked and not get bitten once. 

So they cared not about our couches.  I, however, cannot lay on them anymore.  Beth has suggested a professional cleaning and some therapy sessions.  However, as I was speaking with a young lady who fosters children, she mentioned how she has to deal with the whole bedbug thing.  Pleasant for her-not.  Whenever her current foster child returns from his mother's house, she has to take all his clothes and stuffed animals and put them in the dryer on high heat for 30 minutes in order to kill all the bedbugs.

I am making myself itchy simply by continuing to type bedbugs. 

Anyway, I thought what the heck?  Maybe I should try to dry the couch.  It took me awhile to shove the whole thing in there, and the dryer will never be the same, but I did it.  In reality, I took the covers off the cushions and dried them for 30 minutes.  I haven't laid on them yet to find out, but I intend to soon.  Beth does not know I did this, but will soon.  When she reads this. 

If you read about a man in Cincinnati getting committed to the loonie bin by his wife against his will, you will know that she has read this post. 

So here me and my bottle of Benadryl go. Off to have a relaxing time watching television on the couch.

Or maybe I could wear a suit like the boy from the plastic bubble...

Boil some curtains and tear some water into strips, I am going into labor!

September 3, 2012

Happy Labor Day y'all.  It is raining, everyone in my house is sleeping, and I am up by 7am.  I find it difficult to celebrate Labor Day by sleeping or sitting around.  I have decided to celebrate the true meaning of the day by going into labor.

"Will someone give me a shot of something!"

"This is your fault!  You did this to me!"

Obviously, I have never been in labor and get all my references from movies or comedians.  My lines above do not reflect Beth In Labor.  15+ years ago, she was a real trouper and did not utter either of those sentences.  I would not do well giving birth since I have to ice my knee after taking a bike ride.  Labor pain may be somewhat more significant and they do not make ice bags with wings.

Enough about that.  I decided yesterday that I was going to write a post dedicated to my ex-coworkers and include a link from the sermon yesterday at church.  We are in a current series called "How to Like Your Job".  It has been excellent so far and they would truly get something out of it.  However, I will not do that in this post as I was going to email them the post and the whole labor joke at the beginning would ruin my good faith credibility.

Therefore, we can discuss how Labor Day came to be.  My family and I raised this question yesterday and I will take credit for being the one closest to the correct answer.  While there is some debate around who gets credit for the idea, it was started by a man or men involved in the labor movement.  He is a summary of their purpose:

"It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country."

Since this is not an actual English paper, I will not cite my reference. 

Wait, what if this gets published? 

Okay, I got that line from a United states Department of Labor web page answering the question, The History of Labor Day.  Yes, I know that is not a question, what's your point?

The tribute started in 1882 in New York City and was originally going to always be on September 5th.  However, in 1884, they decided they wanted a 3 day weekend so they could attend a fireworks show or watch NASCAR, and the rest is history.

I should have been a teacher, no?

Here is a final thought around labor.  The elections are coming, in case you had not heard, and there is much talk about whether the economy and the jobless rate are better or worse due to 4 years of an Obama regime.  I will submit for you my first political opinion on this blog.

We were at the mall last night taking a walk.  We like to do this around closing time so that Beth can grab a Starbucks before they close and then we can walk the mall as it thins out.  This also gives us the chance to relive the memory of taking toddler CJ to the mall either before it opened or after it cosed so he could walk around and wear his self out.  It is a good tip for those of you with small children and malls.  Hotels like Embassy Suites work well too since the hallways aren't one way traffic.  Anyway, when we would walk the mall with baby CJ before it opened, he would walk up to all the stores he knew had train sets only to find them closed.  He would then, very dramatically, hold out his arms and declare, "All the stores are closed!" 

That was not my political opinion.  I have decided that perhaps the economy is not as bad as the Romney people want me to believe.  My source for this is the restaurants at the mall.  There are two and they were both PACKED last night.  We were not going to eat there, but we stopped in The Cheesecake Factory to pick up a carryout dessert.  30 minutes later we had it and were on our way home.  The place was stuffed with patrons and the crowd waiting outside was substantial.  The same scene was repeated at The Red Lobster we passed on the way home. 

If everyone is out of work, how can they all afford to go out to eat? 

Since it is very likely that this blog will get picked up for an Obama commercial, perhaps I better go back and check my resources.