Ahhhh! Back on my usual computer. The laptop is okay for just working in Word, but doing anything else is a nuisance -- and will be until I get myself a mouse.
Things have been truly buzzing around here; so much good news, I'm wondering if perhaps the universe is tilting in a strange direction or maybe I've fallen through some black hole to a parallel universe -- one that isn't out to get us.
Or maybe my Year of Grief has come to an end, even though I didn't know I was experiencing a Year of Grief because I was...well...experiencing a Year of Grief. What is the psycho babble phrase? I found my New Normal?
First of all, NO MORE CISTERN!!!! Our landlord/neighbor hooked us up to his well. What this means is no more turning on the kitchen sink, hearing a telltale thunk that means "rinse what you got and quick;" or waking up at night when someone uses the bathroom and hearing an ominous hiss that means no one else will be able to use the toilet until water is delivered. Turns out the cistern still had a leak, which I wish we knew, like, eight expensive loads of water ago...
Second: Dirtman has quit tobacco! The Heirs are particularly happy about this since they envisioned a future of having to be the caregiver to a father with half a face. I'm just relieved he got rid of the health risk. Oh, and now I don't have to run away when he tries to kiss me.
Some minor positive notes: The thyroid meds have finally kicked in completely and, while I wouldn't say the pounds are "melting" away, I feel like I'm back on track and am fitting in clothes I haven't seen since two summers ago. My energy has returned and my joints aren't screaming every time I put forth a little exertion. My hair has stopped falling out and my nails grow again.
So we've been busy. Landlord/neighbor plowed a section in the back of the yard (beyond the fence) for a communal vegetable garden. As soon as it dries up a little he's going to have it tilled. So we started a compost pile because...yea...we've got a lot to compost.
Mothers' Day was spent at Dark Garden's house, where I was -- against my will -- entered into a dip contest. Had I known this was a contest, I would not have brought hummus, which was, technically, in violation of the "dip theme" of the gathering. The dip was supposed to go with tortilla chips, but since I was trying not to eat tortilla chips, I brought hummus and carrot and celery sticks.
Do I need to tell you I lost miserably -- even to Dirtman's dip, which was...well, if you have a strong stomach and aren't eating anything, you can read about Dirtman's dip. First of all, men don't like hummus. They say they do to appease women attempting to get them to eating healthily, but they don't. Second, I can't think of anything more disgusting than hummus on a tortilla chip. And, finally, this batch didn't turn out as well as usual because for the first time in my life I made something with not enough garlic and, I think, my tahini might have been too old. (Dark Garden will make a comment about that last phrase.)
Additionally, Dark Garden will say I'm taking this way too seriously, which is what the person who sets up such competition always says when he purposely sabotaged the entry of the competition he feared. It ended up being a draw between his and John Boy's salsas, but only statistically. Each dip had its own merit and it's hard to compare, say, a cheese-based dip with a salsa because sometimes you want cheese and sometimes you want salsa.
And sometimes you don't want either because you want fresh vegetables and hummus.
I think that catches us up.
Oh, except for this, which we found next to Abbey's favorite gnome:
8 comments:
Can I just say "YAY!!!!!!!!!!!" for you?! Glad to hear all the good news, you guys definitely deserve it.
In order:
1) Yay! 'Bout damn time.
2) Good for him. Stephen gave it up when our oldest was born. It's awesome to not haul that monkey around on your back. Or lip. Whatever.
3) Glad you're feeling better. Martini, anyone?
4) We're composting, too. I know it's green, but jeez, is it gross.
5) Your tahini is old. IF I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.
6) You are packing gnomes up to go to college with him, aren't you?
Meg: A "YAY!!!!!!!!!" on our behalf is greatly appreciated.
Trasherati:
1. Damn skippy
2. Lip. (just threw up a little in my mouth).
3. Make it a double.
4. Coffee grounds. Everywhere.
5. We may have invented a new euphemism. (Dark Garden, meet Trasherati. Trasherati, meet Dark Garden.)
6. Can I help it if one just happens to get left behind when we drive him to Roanoke? You know gnomes -- they have minds of their own...
Time to celebrate, on all fronts!
And the health benefits associated with getting back on the thyroid meds are not "minor." When I go without, quality of life goes down quickly...don't do that again! ;-)
As for the hummus, I'll take that on tortilla chips over salsa any day, and I love salsa. Sounds like the contest was rigged. I think it's unethical for the host to win the contest...aren't there rules about that?
'Additionally, Dark Garden will say I'm taking this way too seriously, which is what the person who sets up such competition always says when he purposely sabotaged the entry of the competition he feared.'
You got me. I planned the entire weekend of stress release to fix a dip contest. Its how I roll.
BTW... Since I planned it... You should know that I won the competition. It wasn't until Dirtman became bound and determined to mess up the votes to get a rise, that Johnboy's dip took a lead.
In my opinion, however, Johnboy's dip ruled them all from the very beginning. His dip is extremely hard to beat.
Ahhhh... Tahini... My Tahini....
...
Man, I had this sweet tahini in Jersey once. ... I'll never forget it. ;-)
Dude, you can't beat that Jersey tahini. Heh.
(She's going to block us eventually.)
Gwynne: Yeah -- you notice his nonchalance? 'Cuz he WON.(No, I won't be doing that off-the-meds thing again. It took too long to get back on track)
DG: I know you just sit in your office thinking this stuff up. Because you know how it is in these small town sheriff's offices -- everyone sitting around, fondling that one bullet in your pocket...shirt, I mean...shirt pocket.
Trasherati: There. I lobbed you an easy one...
I don't think she'd block us.
I think we help keep her ratings up.
I'm the one you love to hate. What with all my pocket fondling and pickin' on Linguni's n' such.
I gotta go now. Time to clean out our jail cell, and make the bed. (spitin' snuff noise into bottle) GHACK!
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