Merry Post-Christmas Letdown

So last week my excuse for foolish blog posts was that I was on vacation.  This week my excuse is I’m back at work and trying to get into the swing of things.  Does anybody have a problem with that?  You there, in the back?  You do?  Or were you just shooing a fly?  I thought so.

That by way of a silly introduction to a Post-Christmas Tired Tuesday post.  I returned to work today, still grateful for having had yesterday off.  Now I only had a four day week to get through!  It was not until I sat down here and started typing just now that I remembered:  in school on the first day back after Christmas vacation, everybody had on their new clothes they had just gotten for Christmas.  How fun was that?  Until I would realize I still wasn’t beautiful and popular, which I spent most of my childhood and adolescence hoping I would one day wake up to find myself.

Of course with school as well as with work, it did not take long to feel as if I had never left.  Vacation?  What vacation?  When is the next one?  I looked at the calendar and counted the full weeks till a three day weekend.  Far too many.  However, I do have a few discretionary days to take.  I may treat myself to a Monday off in February or March.  I will probably write a blog post about it.

All things considered, it was not a heinous first day back at work.  Some of the usual annoyances annoyed, but some of the usual amusements amused, and it was nice to see my work friends again.  I do like having friends.  I’m still not beautiful, but now enough people talk to me that I can at least pretend I’m popular.  Happy Tuesday everyone, and I hope you are all recovering from any post-holiday blahs you may have.

 

All Kinds of Drama in 2017!

Welcome to the first Mental Meanderings Monday of 2017.  I hope nobody is expecting brilliance (I know, most of you never had such expectations of me) (OK, me neither),  because I feel tired and stupid.  These are not unfamiliar feelings for me, but I do not repine.  I just have to wait and sooner or later I will feel some other way.  That is how it works.

Where was I?  Ah yes, mentally meandering.  I’m expecting my post-Christmas letdown to continue at least for a few more days, with the occasional relapse as the month wears on.  On Wednesday I have a meeting to talk more about the murder mystery LiFT Theatre Company is doing at the Overlook Mansion in Little Falls.  Who could be uncheered by a murder mystery? (That is a paraphrase from Winnie the Pooh, by the way.  I think the real line is, “Nobody could be uncheered by a balloon.”) Thursday I have the read-through for Steel Magnolias at Ilion Little Theatre.

And then I have at least two more murder mysteries to write, in addition to writing articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine and making a blog post every day. Then there is running, finally organizing my house and life, and of course seeking out new Mohawk Valley adventures.  I hope to also find time to crochet, knit, and watch true crime on cable television, as well as the occasional cheesy movie to write a blog post about (I haven’t done one of those posts in a long time!).

I see that I am over 250 words.  Score!  And never once did I whine about my inability to come up with a blog post for today.  That makes me feel a good deal less stupid than I felt when I typed the first paragraph.  You see, I was right:  just wait and I will feel a different way.  Bring on 2017!

 

Wrist to New Years to Murder

NEVER BLACKMAIL A MURDERER!!!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SA Y IT??

I guess a few more, but I don’t suppose it matters, since witnesses to murder rarely do.  Do murders ever?  I imagine some do, especially the one ones to murder that we never hear of, that is, the ones that do get away with it.  And there is the part of murderers I rarely understand: if they got away with it, you rarely hear their names.  What’s that all about?  Who wants  to do things where people don’t even know that you did it?  Or am I just an approval junky?

I guess none of this matters on New Years Day, or as some like to call it, “National Hangover Day.”  Oh, don’t go pointing the finger at me! I am quite hangover free today (about tomorrow, I make no promises).  Who wants to think about murder on New Year’s Day?  Oh well, I guess a few people must.  Policemen.  Newswriters.  The producers of Snapped.

And here we come to the second point of today:  it is Sunday.  For me, Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  I can’t think about a blog post.  All I want to do is watch Snapped.  But Happy New Years, everybody, nonetheless.  I hope you are all having a lovely holiday weekend.

 

Red Wine, Red Blood, Happy New Year!

So there I was, ready to get this New Year’s Eve party started.  I only lacked my husband Steven (the only other guest expected since Spunky the dog was already here) and all the food I said I was going to fix.  I thought it would be a good idea to open a bottle of wine, so I could sip a little while I chopped and mixed.  And then things got ugly.  A short time later, I was posting the following on Facebook:

“So I open a bottle of wine, so I can enjoy a libation while I fix the snacks. Somehow a chip gets broken off the rim of the bottle, and I cut my thumb! It’s bleeding big red drops (although a very pretty color)! I get a Band-aid on it and go to cry on Facebook, and it’s STILL bleeding! I fortunately do not bleed on my laptop. I employ pressure and elevation for a short time and it seems to have done the trick. Then I see my thumb is bleeding from two places. Two Band-aids later, I wonder if I can be trusted with a knife.”

It really does seem OK, but you know what a drama queen I am (it’s a little awkward to hit the space bar with the band-aids on my thumb)  (it is my right hand, by the way).  I thought it might be a good idea to make my blog post before attempting any further culinary adventures.  I’m even thinking in a vague sort of way of sending out for pizza and making all the fun party snacks I planned tomorrow instead.

In the meantime, I had meant to write my blog post about quite a different thing.  I was going to talk about resolutions vs goals and strive for some profound thoughts about improving myself.  Or I was going to get all introspective about the passage of time and change and our own perceptions of what makes a good year.  I even had some vague notion of musing on these artificial milestones we invent for ourselves:  Why is one revolution around the sun called a year?  Who even figured out how we got back to the same place in the planetary ellipse?

And here I am, doing what once got a professor really annoyed with me:  writing about what I’m not going to write about (in my defense, he only wanted a two page paper; how much could I say in that?).  My thumb is fine; my wine glass is almost empty.  However, I feel disinclined to begin cooking or refill the glass, because a little dog (above-mentioned third guest at the party) is snuggled up next to me so cozily, I hate to disturb him.  Happy New Year, everyone.

 

Lame Production

What’s wrong with Lame Post Friday anyways?  Have I used that lead before?  No matter.  I typed in two or three leads earlier and backspaced them out, I am determined not to do that again.  I asked yesterday if bloggers got vacations.  Today I answer my own question: Yes, we do, and this is mine!  I’m going to post my usual foolishness and NOT feel guilty about it?  Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!

The weather was better today than yesterday, but my level of productiveness held steady at the low level I have been at all week.  That I feel guilty about. Then again, I have three more days off before I go back to work.  Who knows how much I can get done?  I know, some of you are saying YOU know and it isn’t damn much (you know who you are).

What is this preoccupation with being productive anyways?  Why can’t we just BE?  (Ooh, I just flashed on Hamlet. Not my favorite Shakespeare soliloquy, by the way.)  That sounds remarkably like the half-baked philosophy in which I often indulge on Lame Post Friday.  I’m afraid the only things I can think of to say, though, strike me as painfully obvious.

Namely, that there is no point in being productive for its own sake, just to say, “Ah, I accomplished something today.”  However, there are specific things one might like to accomplish.  For example, I clean my house because I want to enjoy sitting in a clean house, not so I can say, “Ha-ha!  I just spend two hours cleaning my house!”

And now I have the dreadfully uncomfortable feeling that sometimes I publish a blog post merely so I can say, “Ha-ha!  I published a blog post!”  How mortifying.  I guess I’m not too mortified to hit “Publish,” though.  For one reason, I said in the first paragraph I was not going to feel guilt about it. So there.

 

Is It Multi-Tasking to Vacation and Blog?

I have previously bemoaned the absence of Blogger Sick Days.  How about the absence of Blogger Vacation?  I am on vacation from my real job this week (also known as “shut down” in the factory world).  Why do I have to keep worrying about this silly blog?

Of course the short answer is that I don’t. For heavens’ sake, this is not a paid writing gig.  I don’t have a contract with anybody.  I daresay not a lot of people would even notice if I did not post every day (I like to think that some would).  The long answer is… perhaps not worthy of a blog post.  In fact, I’m not even sure if I know the long answer.  I only know another short answer:  I decided in my head that I would post every day, and that is what I do.

It has been quite a dreadful weather day in the Mohawk Valley today.  It snowed like the proverbial son of a bitch most of the day (a friend said on Facebook that it was “snowing like a bitch,” and I corrected her) (thus being both didactic and silly; who says I can’t multitask?).  I went out in it for stops at the library and grocery store, necessitating three times of brushing off my vehicle.  That’s a lot of snow. When I got home I shoveled the top layer of snow in my driveway.  Throughout the afternoon, I checked out the window occasionally as the sonofabitchy snow rendered my labor useless.

I did not get a whole lot else done.  I washed the dishes.  I cooked a pretty good dinner.  I encouraged local entrepreneurship by paying two young men to shovel my driveway after the snow had pretty much obliterated my earlier efforts.  They did a marvelous job.  Score!

And now I am going to think of a silly headline and call this a Non-Sequitur Thursday post.  I hope you’re all having a lovely week after Christmas.  Stay safe, if you are also getting hit with a lot of snow.

 

Neither Wordless Nor Wuss

I was all set to do a Wuss-out Wednesday  post when I remembered that some bloggers do a thing called  Wordless Wednesday.   Not that I am usually wordless, nor do I intend to be entirely Wordless now.  But I do have a couple of pictures to share.  So here are two views of me.

 

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Do you even like my feet?

 

I was hoping for slippers for Christmas.  I quite frankly never pictured these, but I LOVE them.  You can’t imagine how cool it is to look down at your feet and see these big fluffy things.  Unless you have a pair too, in which case,  excellent!

The next was taken last night before Steven and I went out to eat.  I wanted to put on something cute and this is what I came up with .

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Steven said, “Hubba, hubba!”

 

Full disclosure  I purchased the shirt in the late 1980s, when I worked at JC Penney in Potsdam, NY.  I rediscovered them during Leading Ladies (remember?  the show I directed for Ilion Little Theatre), when I wanted to dress fabulously each night to make the curtain speech.  I added the Christmas vest and jewelry last night.

I confess, I thought I looked pretty fine.  So fine, in fact I was the one to say,  “Hey, Steve, take a picture!”

Oh dear, now I’m looking at the picture and seeing my pile of footwear at the bottom of the stairs.  Then again, maybe most people didn’t notice them till I foolishly pointed them out.  Oh well,  these things happen.

 

Don We Now Our Running Apparel

I felt glorious as I got dressed to go running this morning.  Yes, “glorious” is the exact word that entered my head as I dug out the running clothes I have not had on since much earlier this month.  I was excited to go running, and hoped to write a Running Commentary blog post (we’ll see how that goes).

Yesterday we had terrible freezing rain.  I left the house very few times for specific reasons:  to help Steven scrape ice off his vehicle, to take my dog for a business meeting, and to decide NOT to scrape ice off my vehicle and drive anywhere.  I thought today was going to be better.  Listening to Jill Reale on WKTV News this morning, I found it was going to start out warm(ish) then get colder as we go on. Obviously there was no time to waste.

The sun was not all the way up when I started.  I donned my reflective vest, because I intended to run in the road, which had a decent shot at not being ice covered.  Really, as I started down my road, narrating in my head as I like to do, I thought, “I donned my reflective vest…”  Then I chuckled at myself for using an old timey word like that.  Then “Deck the Halls” played in my head for the rest of the run. It is not a bad tune to run to.  I thought of making up new words to it (another hobby of mine), but all I came up with was “heedless of the tacky pleather”  (you know, like “heedless of the wind and weather”) (I don’t expect everybody to know all the verses).

Fortunately there was not much traffic, since the side of the road had frozen and semi-frozen puddles.  The busiest street I ran on was German.  I ran all the way to the end, rounded the corner and ran down Church Street to Main.  Main Street in Herkimer is sometimes busy, sometimes not so much.  It was a busy moment, which was bad for me, since I had to cross the street to continue left-side-facing-traffic, which I am quite the stickler for.  Then I noticed that the sidewalk was almost completely clear.  Score!

I did not run all the way down Main, but cut through the little park by Basloe Library (open normal hours today, yay!), then crossed Pleasant Street.  This way I could go by the “Do Not Enter” sign on Bellinger Avenue.  I so enjoy entering where it says not to.  I crossed my own street to run up Henry.  I had thought to run a mere 20 minutes, because it had been so long since running last.  Then I thought, it didn’t matter if I ran too long and got achey legs, because my legs also ache from not running.  As I like to say, pick your pain.

I ended up running 23 minutes then walked 11 for my cool-down.  It was a wonderful run.  Every step felt good and the cool-down walk felt awesome!  I thought, “I have found the secret to happiness!”  I’m damned if I can remember why I stopped running.  I hope to not be so silly again.

 

But I’m NOT Whining!

I am in the middle of cooking dinner, so I could do a cooking post.  Or I could stick with my usual Monday Mental Meanderings.  I have come to realize that mental meanderings are easier than middle-aged musings.  “Musings” seems to imply that there is a point or at least a theme or something.  “Meanderings,” I feel, can just want wander all over the place.

So it is the day after Christmas.  At least I did not have to return to work.  I hate working with a post-Christmas letdown.  Don’t worry; I’m not going to sit here and whine about my post-Christmas letdown for 200 or so words (I don’t imagine I can manage 300 or more words today).  I will attempt to not whine at all, but I have observed that some  people will accuse you of whining no matter what.  I suppose to complain about that injustice will also be construed as whining.  File that under the heading I Just Can’t Win.

Christmas being over does bring a sense of relief.  No more presents to buy, make, wrap.  Of course I did not celebrate the season as properly and thoroughly as I had hoped and planned, but it is too late to worry about that now.  It’s on to working on all the projects I’ve been neglecting for Christmas!  I have writing, cleaning and organizing to tackle.  And if I accomplish any of it, you’ll read about it here!

As for right now, I am over two hundred words.  I am not going to try for three, because I’m afraid I might start whining about something.  Hope you’re having a delightful Monday.

 

Flush La La La La

So I said to the clerk at Rite Aid, “Merry Christmas to you, you have to work. Merry Christmas to me, I have a clogged toilet.”

And I just realized that this would be an excellent reason for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  But it is not.  Once again, my perverse sense of humor comes to my rescue and I think this is awfully funny.  My husband, Steven, is less amused, but you’ll have that in a marriage.

Our toilet has been a cause of minor concern to me for some time now.  Only minor, though, because it won’t go down, we plunge it, it goes down, everything is fine till next time.  Imagine my consternation, then, when I began to plunge it this morning and it KEPT GOING UP!  I hollered to Steven, “I’m having a little problem here,” and plunged frantically.  It stopped going up before flooding the bathroom.  Some water splashed on the floor, largely whooshed out of the toilet from my frantic plunging.

We took turns plunging for what seemed like a long time.  I kept insisting the water was going down by minute amounts, which Steven could not see.  I wondered if I was kidding myself and the agitation caused by the plunging was creating the illusion.  No, it WAS going down. It really, truly was.  At last it was down to a normal level, or perhaps a little lower.  We were frightened to flush it again.  Who knows what could happen?

I remembered a time staying at a cabin in Georgia (it had all the comforts), and the toilet got clogged.  My sister Victoria plunged and plunged it in the night (these things never happen at convenient times, do they?), and I called management as soon as they were open.  They sent over a couple of ladies who poured a whole bottle of Liquid Plumber down the toilet and that was it.  Surprisingly enough, it worked.  I volunteered to go to Rite Aid for supplies, since Steven remembered they would be open.

I got store brand and read the directions on the back.  They recommended pouring half the bottle down a clogged drain, one third of the bottle for a slow drain.  We went with half and set the timer on my watch for 30 minutes, also recommended by the back of the bottle.  That was enough time for both of us to take showers and dress (my cute outfit would have been worthy of a blog post if I wasn’t writing about this).

Steven asked me to remind him which way to turn the knob to turn the water off, if it started to overflow again.  I quoted him the immortal poetry of “righty tighty, lefty loosey.”  We held our breath and flushed.  Then plunged. Alas!  Once the water had finally gone down again, I poured in the rest of the bottle and reset the timer.  By now Steven had to use the toilet again.  I suggested he go to Rite Aid and use theirs, purchasing another bottle of drain stuff, just in case.

During all this, I had phoned my parents a few times, letting them know something of our tribulations.  You see, we where expected at their house for breakfast and presents.  I wondered if that would happen.  I said that if the second half bottle of stuff didn’t work, we would pour in the entire contents of the second bottle and flee the premises.  The bottle had suggested leaving the stuff in overnight for especially stubborn clogs.

After plunging the toilet AGAIN, we did just that.  We had a lovely Christmas.  We were too late for breakfast (I ate something at home, then had a snack at Mom and Dad’s house), but we opened some presents.  Then we went to my sister Cheryl’s house for a Christmas feast.  She really outdid herself, offering an excellent repast.  We opened some more presents, had an especially yummy dessert, then Steven and I took off, in case we needed to plunge and purchase more drain unclogger.

We flushed with high hopes, then plunged in despair. However, I noticed it plunged much more quickly this time.  We flushed and plunged again.  I suggested we keep flushing and plunging, since I really did not want to show my face at Rite Aid again.  It worked!

Is anybody surprised that I just got 700 words out of a clogged toiled (someone will say, “700 of your words?  No wonder the damn thing was clogged!”) (you know who you are).  Merry Christmas!