Friday, September 2, 2016

Notes Whilst Storm Prepping

Whilst house-and-dog-sitting, ordinarily, my duties are to keep the dog and plants alive and to ravage the pantry.  This time we have a tropical storm/depression rolling through.  I'm in the midst of a bout of insomnia whereby I begrudgingly fall asleep at 2-3am and then pop awake, against all desire otherwise, at 5-6am.  These are my thoughts as I get the house in order:


1.  The tiny, yapping dog does not understand why the furniture that gets used twice a year (screened-in back porch) and the furniture that gets used never (open front porch) are coming in to live with the furniture that gets used all the time.  

2.  Neither do I.

3.  The tiny, yapping dog thinks I'm really bad at this new furniture placement and that I'm really %$#!ing up the feng-shui.  

4.  He's not wrong.

5.  Note to self: as with the lessons learned from moving a bajillion times in life, never have a thing you don't use once a month, at least. 

6. You can make do without. 

7. Diogenes got down to only having a bowl in his life, until he saw a pauper drink water by cupping his hands; then he got rid of the bowl.

8. Anti-materialism is commendable, but Diogenes was a bit of a prig.

9.  The dog does not understand why the plants that live on the porch must come in.

10.  That's no surprise because, even before the storm/plant movement, the dog did not understand why plants, which are designed to be outdoors are kept outdoors, on the porch, but in a place where they must be watered.

11.  Neither do I.

12. Note to self: nothing living that can't contend for itself should be in my future home. 

13. Strikes out plants, pets, and babies.  

14. Probably a trophy wife too.  

15. My home will be a cold, stark fortress. 

16.  But it will be a monument to self-sufficiency.

17.  It takes a week for the dog to think its loving masters are dead and I, the heartless humanoid who dutifully fills bowls and opens doors (yet shows zero affection whatsoever) am, if not the life giver, the life-allower.  
18.  After which, he follows my every movement by walking a micron next to/under me, just to make sure I don't abandon him too.  

19.  This is not helpful when lugging unwieldy, dripping plant pots indoors.

20.  Big Green Eggsare wondrous. 

21.  Until I have to lug one, by myself, with a tiny yapping dog underneath my feet, into a garage through a narrow side door. 

22.  A narrow side door with an 8 inch lip.  

23.  Then, Big Green Eggsare 100+lbs ceramic monstrosities without handles and if I drop or chip this one, my life will be over, because the sort of people who buy them (in this case, my mom's husband) are *that* serious about grilling. 

24.  Storm Prep for the boat was so much easier.

25.  Checked the lines.

26.  Cut the power to the boat.

27.  Raised a prayer to the Almighty to either let the Argo come through without a scratch or to mercilessly sink it.

28.  Disaster is if it gets beat beyond recognition but still floats.

29.  If I were homeless, I'd figure out how to get to Key West or Hawaii.  

30.  They don't have soup kitchens for the homeless in hot places, right? 

31.  Soup's too warm for hot places.

32.  Cucumber sandwich kitchens?

33.  I hate cucumbers.

34.  Tomato sandwich kitchens!

35.  I wonder what mayo they'd use?

36. Dad's family is a Duke's™ family.

37.  Mom's family is a Hellman's family.

38.  I'm 37 and I haven't definitively chosen yet.

39.  That makes me some sort of Southern heretic, I'm pretty sure.

40.  Okay; I'm choosing: I'm going Hellman's

41. Well, maybe I should find a neutral third one. 

42. Then I'm not back to being an 8 year old and having my parents make me choose between them again.

43.  Well, that was a dark joke.

44.  I could go hipster and make my own mayo; it's just vinegar and egg whites, I think.  

45.  Obama's the 45th president, right?

46. I need to get some sleep.

48. I'm not making much sense anymore.

34. When was the last time I really made sense anyway.

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