The Big Yellow Joint

So we had all the relatives out for the Independence Day celebration yesterday. Great evening. We had planned to go to the parade in Enumclaw, but sometimes things just don't work out that way! We did buy a pitiful little bag of fireworks, Party Poppers, Snakes, Sparklers, things any 3-year-old boy or 4-year-old girl might love. Then we were supposed to go to the fairgrounds for fireworks that night. No need! Instead we sat on the lawn and watched the neighbors try and outdo each other. We had the Group A on the left who were going for the "We've been shooting off fireworks for 10 solid hours" award. Group B in the middle had the most impressive stuff. Then Group C happened to be on our street, and I think they were trying to land one on our roof. Anyway, it was great fun. Samantha even said it was the most exciting night of her life. At one point my husband actually said, "Honey, that AIN'T going to work", and I had to remind him that we've only lived here since Wednesday and his grammar can't have slipped that fast. Not that anyone in Buckley actually says "ain't", since I don't officially know anyone from Buckley yet...

I'm pretty sure that catchy title says it all. It's funny because we basically started moving out in March. I'd fill the back of the van and we'd race to Enumclaw to the storage unit which closed at 6:00. We'd get there about 5:50, race in, unload the stuff, go eat dinner and then go watch the 7:00 baseball game. So everything that was moved around that time was packed pretty neatly in its own separate box. Even yesterday things were packed pretty neatly. Today, however, MUCH different story. I'd write on one box "Alex Sam Robyn living room stuff" meaning stuff that I picked up off the living room floor and threw together in one box that happened to belong to three of the four of us who live here. Then I'd write "Alex mostly, some Sam bedroom". Anyway, HOPEFULLY we'll finish up tomorrow and I'll be able to relax and WORK all day Friday before we jet off to Disneyland on Saturday. I got an expedite transcript order today and I told my manager that I didn't think I could do it since I'm leaving Saturday morning. She emailed me back a pretty pissy note saying she'd do it along with her two other back orders and all the other stuff she's trying to get done before she leaves Friday morning. Ouch. Anyway, I apologized and told her I'd handle it. It appears I'm not the only one stressed beyond belief these days...

Here is a picture of Alex's graduation pedicure.

Okay, so my new goal for my blog is to post more often, just shorter.

So last Wednesday night I'm sitting in our LazyBoy (aka Hopeless Slackass) recliner holding my Fiskar's sewing scissors in my hand. These don't have really long blades, they're more for snipping tiny pieces of thread, but they're REAL sharp. Anyway, I go to shift in my chair and I remember thinking, "Wait a minute. Is this chair falling over backwards?" I couldn't believe it. We've had that chair for 11 years and not once has it ever fallen over. I bonked my head against the kitchen table pretty hard, so I kind of sat up shaking my head. I glance down, and I have STABBED myself in the thigh, which is now GUSHING blood. I kid you not. Well, seeing as how I was just at the Emergency Room about three weeks ago, I'm familiar with the layout and the procedures. I'm limping around the kitchen holding a fistful of napkins on my leg thinking, "I could probably just go do this by myself, unless I've lost too much blood and maybe would faint in the car on the way." I figure I better get my husband up. He took charge and got our friend Lisa to come over while we went to the hospital. I called Lisa from the waiting room and she said, "Man, what happened? It looks like a CSI crime scene in here." Bless her heart, she cleaned up all the blood and straightened everything out before we got home. Anyway, this is a picture of my six stitches. I wish I had a more interesting story.

So our house went up for sale on Tuesday night. I had to work Wednesday, but I figured people wouldn't be rushing out to look at my house so I was probably safe leaving the dog home alone for a day. Whatever. I had three people look before noon, three more that evening, and four offers the next day. The most stunning part about moving and the house we've decided to buy is that I feel like the new house is so out of our league, but this house, THIS HOUSE, has afforded us the opportunity. I'm not sure I ever really cared about this house, but I'm sure feeling nostalgic now. This is where both my daughters were born, where we lost our first dog together. I really am going to miss it.




UPDATE
Well, so far everything has been very smooth, moving right along. We sold our house for $11,000 more than we wanted for it, so that's a huge bonus. Now I've started stressing about the moving part. For a month there, it was all CLEAN, CLEAN, CLEAN. Now I'm thinking, man, Eric will still be in school the three days we have to get out of this house, so I'm going to end up doing most of the packing part myself. He'll have to grab a friend and move heavy stuff out when he gets home. I'm sure he'll take a day or two off, but it's going to be insane.

A few years back, my stove quit heating to the proper temperatures required to bake stuff. Since I consider myself the girl most likely to try and fix it herself to hopefully save some money, I spent a month or so poking around, turning things on and off, pulling the stove out and studying the back, before finally calling Sears Home Appliance Repair. The guy who came out to fix the stove said, Man, if you'd have kept doing what you were doing, you probably would have fixed it. There was this metal panel on the back that I didn't figure I ought to remove, so I didn't. If I had removed that panel, I would have probably seen what needed to be fixed and been able to do it myself. Fast forward a couple of years and someone leaves a plastic bowl on a warm burner, thereby melting aforementioned plastic bowl to the burner. I spent a good amount of time thinking, Man, if I could just get this plastic picked off, the burner would be fine. After nearly severing one or more of my court reporting (ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL) fingers while cutting at the plastic with a knife, I finally broke down and bought a new burner element. My parents happened to be out visiting and we spent the weekend trying to remove the old element to install the new element. Since we are probably two weeks away from putting our house on the market, I figured now would be the time to get Sears in here to fix the stove. After verifying that the element couldn't simply be replaced and that a new one would run $220, including labor, the fix-it guy said, If I could just get this plastic off, it would be fine and I'd save you a bundle. Oh, no, I've tried that. Well, 15 minutes later, the plastic is off and I'm out $150 bucks.

I know it's not pretty, and I am planning to get new drip pans and metal liners, but it's fixed. $150 BUCKS.









On a different note, yesterday I had a raging sinus headache, which I've staved off today by loading up on caffeine early, but now my head feels like it's floating a couple of inches above my body and my nose is ALL THE WAY plugged up.



And since I think it's sort of pathetic that the first picture I posted on my blog is a picture of my Kenmore Hotpoint burner, I'm also going to post this picture of my girls in a rare moment when they weren't fighting and instead were posing for pictures.

Well, since today was Take Your Daughter to Work Day, and since I mostly work at home now, I offered to let my daughter Alex stay home, but I told her she'd have to sit downstairs and watch me work. She actually thought about it and thought she might bring her Nintendo and sit downstairs and play that while I worked. She ended up going to school instead. She bought this pogo moon ball thing that she wanted to take and play on during recess. This is the first thing she's bought with money from her birthday that I think she'll actually play with. She bought herself probably three Bratz dolls, which I've seen her playing with maybe twice. I keep telling her to think about it before she spends her money. She's sort of in that in-between phase where she's kind of outgrown stuff, but hasn't realized it yet. Then she gets so moody when we go to the store and won't buy something she really wants but knows I disapprove of, until finally I end up standing there, in the Bratz aisle, saying things like, "Oh, that one's so cute. Get that one," when I'm really thinking, "I'll be tossing this out in what, six months?