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.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Getting Ready, Day Two

Same as Saturday, except worse, because we have to leave thirty minutes sooner and because I can’t just let the kids wander out of the house in jeans and a t-shirt. Shower, shave, stumble around, get everyone woken up, and OH! Forgot. For our contribution to the pot luck dinner, we were going to take one of those nice big aluminum encrusted chicken pot pies we got at Sam’s the last time we were there. And I forgot to put it in the oven. Downstairs, did that, noticed that we only had about 40 minutes left. And that it takes an hour.

Oh well.

On to church, missed the first lecture because I had Jonathan and Rebecca’s class, but Oldest sat through it and [cue sound of floaty heavenly chorus music] she actually enjoyed it! It was geared toward the teenagers and was about the qualities you should look for in the folks you date, with the idea that you'll eventually wind up marrying someone that you've dated. She thought the guy was an excellent speaker, and his advice was just as excellent.

Sometimes you just never know. I figure that one lesson did more for her than anything Mama or I could have said, because, you know, what do we know about all that stuff?!

For all you secularists out there, just remember the words of Ben Franklin--‘Keep thy eyes wide open before marriage, and half-shut afterwards.’

Next lesson, then lunch, then another lesson, and then it was time to head for home for the afternoon. And for some reason, we had to go to an open house.

The house across from Reba's mom and dad has been for sale for a while, and some time back in the fall a developer had bought it and had renovated it. And Sunday was the open house. “Can we go see it? Please.” Must. Try. To. Keep. Positive. Attitude. “Sure.”

Thankfully, we were able to drop the kids at the grandparent’s while we went across the street. The agent was the same lady who was the agent for the couple we bought our house from, so we had to catch up with her on what all’s gone on since then, and then walked through the house.

Holy crap, what a mess. Or, maybe it was just me.

You could tell they’d spent a lot of time trying to fix the place back up--nice tile floors downstairs, new paint--but when you looked at the details, all I could see was dirty and dings and a big mess, and I got the distinct impression that the house must have been torn to shreds by the previous owner. All I could say to Reba was what a shame they’d spent so much money on stuff, and didn’t even have the sense to repaint the stuff that was OBVIOUSLY in need of paint. Just a quick, slapdash job good enough to snooker someone who is impressed by a hot tub, and can’t see all the cheap hardware and dirty fixtures, or the indoor/outdoor carpeting they’d thrown down on the stairs to the second floor. (!) I showed the real estate agent that the kitchen cabinets hadn’t even been painted right. They were dull white, and I noticed it the moment we went in the kitchen. Ran my hand along the front of one and left a big white mark on my palm. “Well, my goodness! I hadn’t noticed that, and the appraiser has been out here and everything!” Yeah, it’s just amazing. It’s almost as if the appraiser was working for the developer or something.

Anyway, we left and Reba’s curiosity was well satisfied. On back to home so she could study for her class tonight, and then back to the store for me. Boy had run out of his mouthwash for his braces, and needed to get a gift for his teacher who’s having a baby, and we needed other stuff, and Reba needed gas in her car.

I decided to bundle Boy up and take him with me for some company, and got all the sundries and then let him pick out a couple of presents. He decided the new baby needed a SpiderMan and a Hulk teething doll. I don’t think he wouldn’t have minded having them himself, as much as he messed with them.

Back home again, fix some supper, do some more laundry, and in the one luxury of the day, I got to read the entire Sunday newspaper, front to back, with no one getting sections out of order, or bothering me, or anything! Hard to beat that.

And now? I got more work to do here.

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