Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Monday was interesting.
Well, not like Mars Rover interesting, or American Idol interesting, but interesting from the point of view of the normal allotment of stuff that happens to me.
For once Miss Reba didn't feel the necessity of getting up from under the covers and doing housework, so [Good Parts Edited Out] and since the housepainter was supposed to come by and pick up his check at precisely 8 a.m., I figured it was time for us to get up and get going.
8 came and went. I called and left him a message that we were going to the dentist and would be back later, and then got the older three up and ready to go. Down to the foot of the hill, park, nearly freeze into a great big goobsicle between the van and the doorway, while children cavort as if nothing is amiss, go in, get them signed up and sit for a spell to read some hard-hitting news.
Came across an old Good Housekeeping with the fresh-scrubbed and airbrushed mug of Katie Couric on the cover. As if root canals weren't painful enough to have in a dentist's office. Anyway, I went ahead and flipped over to the article, because I'm just that way. Picture of Katie in black dress all kittened up on a couch, picture of her hosting the Tonight Show, big graphic quote in the middle of the page, 'I have a newswoman's hair and the heart of a social worker.'
Wow. You know, that is just so true.
I quietly pondered long and hard about whether or not I could keep from heaving a great sea of foamy bilious chunks onto the magazine. I didn't, I just quietly folded it back up and placed it in the rack, which I really think is to my credit.
The kids came and went, and after not long at all they were all finished. And it appears that Boy will need braces. He's got a lower jaw full of crooked little pearls in the front, and a slight underbite. ::sigh:: If it's not one thing, it another that costs LOTS of money. The girls' teeth were fine, thank goodness.
Back home, and found that the painter still had not come by. Was told by Miss Reba that we need to get another piece of furniture so that Tiny Girl and Middle Girl would have a place to store their unmentionables, which are strewn hither and yon around their room.
I know by now that it is better NOT to suggest that they should use the space they already have and oh, maybe put away some of the stuff that no longer fits--such is the path to much misery. Better to nod affirmatively, and try to prolong purchase process as long as possible. "Well, can we wait until next month to buy it? I mean, we still have to pay for having the house painted and all. We CAN go shopping, though." I figured the shopping part would save me, but Reba was less than enthusiastic about looking but not buying, so she threw out the lure of the 12 months-same-as-cash ploy. And while she was casting about, she brought up the need for a sofa again. Our old one has been thoroughly kidified over the past twelve years, and it really does need to be updated.
Whatever--doesn't hurt to go look. Actually, it does.
Went out to the Big Three over in Irondale--Haverty's, Marks-Fitzgerald, and La-Z-Boy--three purveyors of moderately-priced stuffed goods right there beside each other to facilitate shopping.
No one had any lingerie chests that looked like anything close to the girl's furniture, and no one had any sort of nice, simple, fresh sofas. They were all giant pillowed balloony things that look like some drunk guy's version of swanky. Well, that took up two hours, and then we decided to visit the uptown Marks-Fitz store over by the Galleria. They did have some better looking sofas, but I still managed to get out without purchasing anything--we were hamstrung by having four high-strung rug rats with us who made the quiet, contemplative discussion of a large furniture purchase nearly impossible, what with their near-constant desire to sit on EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF FURNITURE IN THE STORE. Grr.
Back across town, empty-handed, with a side-trip to Wal-Mart for toiletries, then home where I finally got a chance to catch up on the work I took home on Friday and see the newest crop of talent on this year's American Idol. There's another person from Birmingham this year on the first rung, but she's no Ruben. If they show her, it will be on tonight's show that has the Atlanta auditions.
And that's about it.
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