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, February 21, 2005

Got to home Friday and decided to swing by Dairy Queen on the way and pick up Cat a surprise in the form of an ice cream cake for her birthday, which she was quite shocked to receive. “HEY! This is ICE CREAM!” Hence the name.

Lots of singing (and hacking snorting coughing) and then she got to blow her germs all over the top of the cake as she blew out the eight candles. “Can I go skating tomorrow?!” That’s all she’s been wanting to do for two months now. “We’ll see!” Which is all I’ve been saying for two months now. It’s nearly impossible to know what’s going to happen on the weekends, despite making plans.

Saturday morning was very nice--for once, Reba didn’t get up at dawn and start dropping baskets full of laundry from waist height onto the floor of the bathroom. I’m sad she’s feeling sick, but it was nice for once to be able to actually sleep later than 7:00. We wallowed around for a while in that nice warm semisleep before you really wake up, or before kids come and get in the bed. First one? Well, who else? “Can I go skating today?!”

“Yes, Cat! BUT, I have some things I want you and Jonathan to do.”


“Clean your rooms.”

“AWwwwwwww!” Cruel and unusual, but effective. And I figured it would buy me some time. For I had made an executive decision to finally fix the downstairs powder room floor! [For the musical amongst you, insert here a piano riff that starts all light and peppy and then gets all out of kilter. Foreshadowing, you know.]

AS YOU ALL NO DOUBT RECALL, several months ago I noticed that the wood floor in our downstairs powder room was dark and decayed looking, and the room had a peculiar damp smell, which can only mean one thing, and indeed, DID only mean one thing. SO, I got in there, pulled up the throne, and proceeded to rip up a small area of rotted flooring from the concrete floor. Not a big area, maybe only about two feet by three feet. My plan then was to douse the floor with some Lysol to kill the mold that had grown, and then find some replacement flooring and patch it all back together.

Again, however, that was several months ago.

IN the intervening time, there has been Life. Which made Repair of The Conveniences of Modern Life slide a bit on the old priority list. But there have been rumblings of dissatisfaction. Several of my family have very tiny bladders, and very active kidneys. (And no, I’m not just speaking of the youngest member of the family.) Having the downstairs reading room out of commission has made it somewhat uncomfortable for a certain member of the ruling party, and as we all know, if mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy.

AND SO, I had decided that Saturday, I would go forth on a noble quest to find this elusive wood, which is apparently grown only in the forests of Unobtainia. I had inquired in the past at the Home Despot if they had any, and the nice man said the Trussville store didn’t carry it, but the store in Fairfield did.

ON TO FAIRFIELD! Next, Disappointment.

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