Work In Progress....

It's the big day, the day we are done with painting and mild swearing and are moving on to the finishing touch: WALLPAPER BORDER! And we remember well how to do it from the last time. Measure twice, cut once. And curse forty-seven times per foot. This afternoon, when all the furniture is in and before the kids come back and get a chance to mess up their rooms, I will post some before and after pictures.

(I did promise that about my kitchen/dining room remodel but it's always such a mess I can never get any "after" pictures...)

Update #1
I didn't realize that hanging wallpaper border caused Tourette's Syndrome. I've dropped so many F-bombs this morning my husband thinks I'm Vodka Mom. And we realized the first time we did these rooms six years ago it took three rolls of border, NOT two. Let's see if I can still get the borders or if they've been discontinued.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Update #2
So far, so good. They have the borders in stock and can ship by Tuesday. We could, in theory, move the nicely painted furniture in from the shop and get their rooms arranged but it is now raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock. I think I need a beer to help this project along....


Update #3
Where the fric and frac did I put that bag of outlet covers last week? I took them off, taped the screws to each one, put them in a zip bag, and...lost the damn things. Must have been the paint fumes. Should have just left them in the middle of the floor. Then I'd know where they are...

Update #4
Found them in a box marked "school supplies, Lego magazines and stuff". Makes perfect sense. Kids got home from the fair and were SO excited to see the borders up, though they did ask if we MEANT to stop halfway down the wall. No kids, this is why we always measure the room before hitting the "place order now" button on the wallpaper website...

And it stopped raining long enough to get the furniture in, finally. However the rooms are not in apple-pie order, as Granny used to say, so I will take those fabulous photos tomorrow. Now, back to the beer!

The Last Circle of Hell

Today I took my almost-ten-year-old daughter shopping for school clothes. I didn't want skirts that were too short, tops that were too tight, or anything that was too trampy. Plus, to suit her personal tastes, it couldn't be itchy, look weird, or ride up anywhere "too close" to the crotch. Hence the title of today's post. Waiter, bring me a margarita in a five-gallon bucket....

RTT: DIY PITA

In honor of it being almost back to school time, I am jumping into the Random Tuesday Soup with some alphabet jazz. "DIY" refers to my home redecorating projects and is self-explanatory. And "PITA" is not all about bread, it describes aspects of the home projects that are chafing my butt.

So AWAYYYY we go!

When the bottle of wallpaper paste removal goo says "use in a well-ventilated area and wear a mask", they're not lyin'. Just because you can't smell anything right away does not mean the chemicals aren't potent enought to EAT YOUR BRAINS like a rabid zombie.

Taping up before painting is a pain. No matter how carefully I get the tape edge down it always leaks. Plus all the dust bunnies that cling to the tape show off what a rotten housekeeper I am.

Since Daddy is the one who does the actual painting he gets the best hugs and kisses and all the praise for how good the room looks. All I did was plan the re-do, look for wallpaper border, strip the old wallpaper, force the kids to go through piles of old junk they've hoarded so we can rearrange things, shop for new bedding and push to get the project underway.

It's amazing how much an old black hair elastic with some fuzz on it can look like an enormous black spider. Especially if you're vacuuming under the dresser and it's pulled toward you quickly by a long piece of hair. It's equally amazing how a simple mom with no musical talent can sound like a diva soprano in an opera when faced with what appears to be a huge spider zooming toward her feet...

Why is it that a kid can see the same toy in the corner of their room for six months, totally uninterested in it, but the minute I THINK of taking it to the consignment store it becomes their new favorite, can't-live-without-it, drop-dead-if-anything-happened-to-it possession? How do they KNOW?!

And last, but not least, how is it that people who have had six years to visit us and see how we're doing in our new place suddenly want to come NOW, when we have a big ol' tore-up mess from one end of the hall to the other and me looking like the dog's dinner all day long? And Lord help me it's some good-looking woman S.P. knows from high school, or college. Why couldn't she have showed up here when things were put together, before I cut off my hair and gained fifteen pounds? Oh Lord, forget my house...I need a remodel....

The 30-Day Plan

Recently I've heard about some interesting 30-day plans to make my life better, or more fulfilling, or just more spicy. Everyone insists their idea will add depth to my otherwise shallow existence. But which one to choose?

Having discarded most of the 30-day exercise programs due to the laziness gene, I have three that are getting serious consideration:

Blog every day for 30 days. (Stretch your mind)

Cook something new every day for 30 days. (Stretch your cooking skills)

Have sex (somehow) every day for 30 days. (Stretch...no, ENHANCE your relationship)

Hmmm, they all sound good, and challenging to keep the faith for the full 30 days. How can I pick just one?

Got it! I'll take the best of all three. I'll cook in the nude every day, see what comes of it (stop snickering...) and blog about it! It'll be the best 30-day program ever.

And just imagine what Wordless Wednesdays will be like...

If There Is No Fishing In Heaven, Do I Really Want To Go?

Today I got to go fishing with my mom. Now, I am a truly slothful person at heart and hate like the dickens to get up early in the morning, and the boat loads at 4:45 a.m. Even dragging myself upright at 6:30 to get the kids off to school can be a challenge, because sleeping is cool and getting up out of the bed sucks.

But the secret is that I will get up at any time, no matter how early, to go fishing. It's one of the best things ever, in life.

When we get to the port it's still dark, but there's a buzz of activity on all the boats as the deckhands prep bait and check gear. The seagulls are quiet this early; they know there's no point in getting excited till the boats start coming back in. Check in at the charter office, get a license, jaw a little with the lady at the desk who knows us by first name now. When we get down to the boat there's coffee, and people to visit with. Pretty soon it's time to get underway and the skipper gives a quick talk on how to get 'em in the boat.

By this time the sky's just starting to turn, but sunup is still at least an hour away. As we pull out, several other boats are leaving too and it's like a parade. Looking out over the stern I can see at least half a dozen sets of running lights fanned out and we pick up speed leaving the port. Look out salmon, here we come.

It's quite a trip out to the good fishing grounds, but there's plenty to see as we go. Here's the Coast Guard station, with lots of blue-clad men and women hurrying to Motor Lifeboat School. They wave as we go by and I can tell they'd love to cut class and come out with us for a few hours. Another boat comes up next to us and the skippers do a little racing to the next buoy. We motor past the lighthouse at Cape D and the water's getting a little choppy. Crossing the bar where the Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean is sometimes smooth, sometimes torn with huge troughs and swells. Today's not bad and soon we're past the second lighthouse at North Head. We can hear the gentle "ding" of the buoys as we speed by, and huge flocks of brown pelicans seem to be racing us to the fish. Hey, look...three seals playing in the water! And the sunrise is just gorgeous today. Fishing is great but I like the getting-there part too.

Now the boat slows and it's time to grab a pole. Immediately a fish hits at the bow and the shout "Fish On!" rings all around the deck. Too bad, this one's not a keeper but we have plenty of time. Sometimes it's slow, with the wily fish slipping up long enough to steal your bait and leave just a smelt head on the hook. Skipper comes by and tells us "Now this isn't a petting zoo, folks..we're here to catch 'em not feed 'em." It's our first trip with this new skipper and he's good. Patient, funny and full of witticisms. After fixing one pole up he gets it back in water and says "All set now, next time one hits you'll be fartin' through silk." Must be a good thing.

And we fish, and fish, and fish some more. It's a fabulous day. Not too much chop, warm but not blistering hot, and I can see that Mom already has two fish. And a green face. I go to check her out and her scop patch is partly on her skin, partly in her hair. Ooh, no wonder she's feeling queasy. But boy, she's fishing like a champ. We fix the patch and I go back to my pole. Haven't caught one yet, but I've fed several fish. And I swear that every time I pull up an empty hook a fish jumps out of the water about ten feet away. I think he's giving me the bird, fish-style.

But finally, there's a good twitch, then a hard jerk and it's my turn. Get the pole set, reel, reel, reel, and here comes the net. It's a beauty, and the deckhand says the magic words "It's a keeper! Nice one!" Ahh, feels good.

But they're whipping our butts at the stern. The best fisherman today is a white-haired lady in yellow rain gear. She looks like the Gorton's fisherman and she's just haulin' those bad boys in. When she catches her fifth fish we can hear her joyful yell "This is my best fishing day EVER!" Mom tells me later she's been fishing for 40 years. She ends up with six fish; two for herself, two for her seasick granddaughter, and two for the boat. Salmon fear Mrs. Gorton...

With that we've limited and it's time to head in. As we turn toward the port and pick up speed the gulls start gathering. It's fish-cleaning time! The deckhand gets busy at the side, chucking all the insides overboard and as he does the gulls start shouting "MINE! MINE! MINE!" I nod off for a bit, but wake as we pass a chiming buoy. On top of it, bobbing in the wake from the boat, are three loud-barking seals. Lots of boats are coming in and it's only 8:30. What a day!

All too soon we're backing into our slip and the deckhand is passing out the fish. Another trip is over, and now we get to enjoy our catch. That's good. I like fish. But I LOVE fishing!

Wordless Wednesday

RTT: Mom's On Vacation!

Oh, it's a great day. The kids are off for a few days with their grandparents, I have cake left from Jones' birthday party (come tomorrow for a picture) and "America's Next Top Model" is on ALL DAY LONG!

Plus I can throw out whatever weird idea comes up and it's not disjointed, it's...RANDOM TUESDAY THOUGHTS. Brought to you by the management, endorsed by the UnMom, and 100% organic.

Go, hamster, go...

Jones got a Crime Scene Investigator kit for his birthday, complete with UV flashlight that makes body fluids fluoresce. So far we have discovered that our teeth are brilliant in the dark, our toilets are disgusting, and Jones needs to shake it off better before tucking it back in his shorts.

No matter how mature our relationship has become, I can still make my mother blush with any obscure reference to my sex life. We are planning a weekend trip for our 15th anniversary next month and asked if they would take the kids. She asked why we were going early and I said it would ruin our romantic plans to have "Mother Nature" along. Her face turned beet red and she stuttered like Mel Tillis. Guess there are some things you just don't bring up to your momma...

Adding braces to Pony Girl has really changed her look. From the neck up she looks a couple of years older, which causes a little consternation when we take her to the beach. Last time we were there she was sprawled on her towel, sunning her buns, and a couple 12/13-year-old boys were checking her out. When she got up to hit the water and they realized she was not as old as they thought the looks on their faces were hysterical!

It's time to redecorate the kids' rooms. Whe we first moved into the house six years ago we painted and decorated for 2- and 4-year-olds. For their respective birthdays they asked us for something more grown-up. Pony Girl is getting a horse theme, and Jones went for the hunting dogs with camouflage bedding. If I can tear myself away from Top Model my job today is to clear out their rooms and tape up the woodwork. Oh crap, I have to strip that wallpaper border out of Pony Girl's room too!

Byeee....

I Swear This Isn't About Sex Or Even Close to It...

I love my small town, and with the exception of certain times of the year when we can't move for the number of tourists crowding in, it's a fabulous place to live and bring up kids.

One of the only shortcomings is the lack of shopping outlets. We do have a couple of grocery places, limited clothing, office supplies, and whatnot, but there's definitely no specialty shopping unless you're after smoked seafood or kites.

Something we've found ourselves in need of more and more frequently these days is horsey gear. There are two farm stores across the river that carry a bit of tack but not much, and so catalog shopping is a must when we need something really specialized. We found a great catalog recently that will ship any order for a flat rate of $7.95, so it's always a good idea to look carefully through for not only what we need now but what we might need next month and make the most of that shipping fee.

Today, as I was flipping pages, I came across some new goodies that made me wonder if the company had merged with some adult-products company. "Uncle Jimmy's Hangin' Balls" and "Uncle Jimmy's Squeezy Buns" right there for anyone to see. And in a family catalog! On closer review they were just horse treats, but it certainly made me squirt coffee out MY nose for a second...

And they've got hair extensions to make your horse's tail fat and sexy, and some spray-on stickum for your saddle to keep you in the seat (wish I'd had a can of THAT a few weeks ago..) and a 100-piece value pack whip assortment.

Never thought I would see the words "value pack whip assortment" together anywhere in my life.

Heard in the Costco Restroom...

"Mom, could you wait outside?"

"Why?"

"I need some privacy."

"I'll close my eyes."

"No, it's better if you would go out there..."

"Well, I can't see anything with my eyes closed..oh, all right. What's up? You got something new I don't know about?"

"No, I just like privacy."

"Well you know, I've seen your goodies since you were born."

"No, I didn't have goodies when I was born."

Exit mom...and laughter.

RTT: There Seems to Be More Sex In This Post Than Usual...

Wow, Tuesday again. It's been weeks since I've been in the RTT open swim. And how do you make an excuse for no post on Random Tuesday? That's like saying "I couldn't attend the Nudist's Ball because I had nothing to wear." Tuesday is the day where you string it together, throw it out, and be not ashamed. Kind of like when a toddler learns to dress herself. So, here we go...

My mom and I are going salmon fishing next week. It's become our August tradition and we have a ball. We always get on a boat with some real die-hard sportsmen-type guys who snicker at our pink ball caps and gloves; the ones who are certain they will have to catch fish for "the little ladies" as well as their own. Every year one of us gets the first fish, and it's always a nice one. Those guys' mouths flop open just like the fish and it's truly priceless. Maybe the fish favor us local folk?

We were dog-sitting for my folks this weekend, for their ancient lab/mastiff mix. My friend came over with the kids and told me about her search for a male lab to breed with her female. She admired old Bear and asked if he was fixed, which he is. After a few minutes of watching him amble around the yard before climbing the stairs V-E-R-Y slowly, she said, "You know, even if he wasn't fixed, I think he'd need a Viagra...for his whole body."

For the past three years or so our school has had the policy of "all parent requests for teachers will be honored". In the spring it was announced that this was no longer the policy and staff should spread the word. Lots of parents, grandparents, and interested parties tried to make end-runs and plead special cases, but it would seem that the edict held firm. The announcement was made "lists will be posted August 3", which became "the first week in August". Yesterday there was a veritable parade of cars in the parking lot circling past the doors. No lists. My guess is the principal is going to post them on Friday afternoon then run like hell. And not answer his phone till Monday.

You know that you are getting old when...there is some romantic snuggling going on, and then the pleasant warming sensation turns into a burning sensation. Holy crap you say, what kind of "personal warming gel" is that?! No, sorry, it's not hot romance, it's your lover rubbing his sore muscles with "Icy Hot" before bed and then getting frisky...

The Boob Fairy has already visited some of Pony Girl's friends. I was surprised to see some of them after a few months of summer vacation, looking so, ah, DIFFERENT. She had some thoughts on the subject:

"When your boobs arrive is when you start wearing make-up to dinner and important family events."

"Your make-up enhances your boobs."

I was unaware of the link between boobs and make-up. If make-up truly had such an effect on boobs, Tammy Faye should have needed a wheelbarrow to tote hers around in. And I went through an eyeshadow fetish in my senior year that should have left me with double-D's, at least..

Well, that's all I got for now. Better save some random for later, when my husband comes home and says, "So , honey, what did you do all day?"