Tuesday, April 26, 2011

For Those Of You Keeping Up....

I don't feel like writing now.  I went back to the doctor & here's what I told a friend in an email:

I went to the doc for my follow up & she was super excited I had gotten off the e-cig.  She hugged me & said I made her day.  With the improvements that have happened so far with Asmanex, she said I can use it every other day (already been doing that) and then go to every third day.  This should save a bundle.  Every 30 day supply is $128  I guess I can put that extra money towards my dogs medications  HA HA



Oh, and the Doc also said I may have to be on it for a full year.  With such fast improvements, I should be on it far less than that.  She did say that with using it every 3rd day, if I experience wheezing, etc, that I should go back to very other day.   I guess we'll have to feel it out to see how long I need to be on it.

And no, I do not have emphysema with such improvements.  The doctor said my breathing sounded wonderful.  That's the first time any medical doctor has said that me (this is me currently puffing up with pride....).

Monday, April 25, 2011

Bring Me Something Deep Fried And Smothered In Chocolate

I feel I should mention this, just so that I'm held accountable for my actions.  Our southern grocery chain HEB is practically next door to the bank.  Saturday, I had no intention of cooking after feeling like someone had just beaten the crap out of so I hopped over to the HEB and picked up a box of fried chicken and a pint of ice cream. 

This is first fried chicken I've had in about 3 years, I'd bet.  I'd been fighting the urge to smoke since the night before & I thought myself, "Well, if I can't smoke, I'm gonna have something fried!"

And there you have it. 

Suffice it to say I actually did go through nearly an entire box of nicotine gum within a couple of days....

Yes, I'm A Dog Person

On Friday, I happened to get off work early & met Shawn leaving home for lunch.  He said Prissy, our dog, wouldn't even lift her little head for him.  Our vet hospital was closed for Good Friday so I decided to wait it out till Saturday.

That night, we lifted her up ontot he bed & watched a movie.  I knew she hadn't eaten.  I thought maybe that lost tooth was bothering her so I paused the movie to cook up some egg whites.  Prissy loves eggs and I thought it would be a good, soft meal.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the house, I heard Prissy cry out.  The vet's voice rang through my head, "It could be a slipped disc."  I hurried to the bedroom and calmly asked what had happened.  Shawn said Prissy went to look back at him & just cried.  I knew.

I looked it up on the internet and Prissy had most of the symptoms of a back back or disc.  More common on small dogs, pressure is put on the discs when they jump up & down the furniture.  The discs act as cushions between the vertebra, or each individual backbone.  After years of rubbing and exaggerated pressure, the cushions wear out causing the vertebra to grind against each other--thus causing severe pain.

I was calm reading this until I began to summarize it aloud for Shawn.  He was already in tears and by the time I finished reading, I was a sobbing fool.  The article explained how this can eventually lead to paralysis and that surgery is really a last resort because that too can lead to paralysis.  Neither of wants a paralyzed dog, or to keep an animal in pain for our sake.

Tears flowing freely, we agreed if it came it to, the best thing would be to let her go.

We must have cried all night and the next morning.  My goodness, we've had this dog about as long as we've been living on our own.  She's always there.  She stays right by my side when I'm sick & loves me unconditionally.  She loves me without conditions--something you cannot get from a human.  She never talks back and she even shows concern for other dog which is a mean little snot.  But Prissy loves her too.

The next morning, we waiting for the vet and cried the entire time while we waited.  I explained to Dr. Gage what was going on and she ha us place Prissy on the floor.  "Does she always hunch like that?"
"No," we answered in unison. 
Dr. Gage explained she'd like to do a full blood work to make sure it wasn't the kidneys, x-rays, and so forth.  "I don't care what it costs!" I cried.

Later, as we sat in the waiting area for the results, a woman who'd been there almost as long as we had, tried talking to us.  I never looked at her.  For all I cared, no one in that room existed and I cried in front of all of them.  I kept my gaze on Prissy as I rubbed her ear.  The woman told a very long story about she & her husband got their new dog, asked if Prissy was OK.

Shawn, trying to be nice, shook his head and tears began to pour from his face.  The woman explained they had lost their dog about a year and a half earlier; she got to where she couldn't walk.  I just wanted the woman to stop talking.  She kept talking, talking, talking.  I don't need to hear about how you lost your dog when mine is barely walking and wagged her tail in many days.  Shut up!  Can't you see us bother here in the corner, crying openly in public, trying to keep to ourselves?

There were others in the waiting area.  In my mind, I begged the woman to speak with someone else.  The idea that we might leave without our dog had been in my mind all morning.  What would I do with her toys?  Her collar?  I could not bear the thought but it was there, lingering.

The waiting was the worse part of all.  I prayed Dr. Gage would come through that door and we could get away from this woman.  I"m sure she is a very sweet person, bored as she waited for her turn.  But we are not the ones ripe for conversation, alright?

Finally, Dr. Gage appeared.  "Well, I have some news!" she exclaimed.
She showed us the results of Prissy's blood work and said she has never, ever seen such health in fourteen year old dog.  Everything was perfect, she said.  "Whatever you've done over the years, you've been doing something right!"

I think we both swelled with a bit of pride right then, especially me since I bathe, feed, water, and chase Prissy around the house for exercise.

Of course, after viewing the results of the blood work, we were shuffled toward the back to view some x-rays on a large computer screen.  Dr. Gage said a lot of things.  I really was paying attention but so much was said and I was so emotional that I cannot remember exactly everything, or even most of what Dr. Gage said.

Basically, two discs are messed up.  There are bone spurs in one the vertebra.  Prissy should not be allowed to jump, at all, period.  She was given a steroid shot, straight to her leg vein.  "This should make her a little....euphoric," said Dr. Gage.  To be blunt, my little dog was downright stoned.  The next day, we were to begin with steroid pills, Prednisone to be precise.

Dr. Gage explained our options & said surgery would be the absolute last thing to do.  She really didn't recommend it at all.  She wanted us to call on Monday to see how the weekend went.  Besides the steroid pills, Prissy had to be given a liquid medication to ease the tummy trouble associated with the steroids.  To also help with stomach issues, Prissy was put on Science Diet ID canned food.  This is the very same food she was on after her stomach surgery, so many years ago so I wasn't sure she'd eat it.  We took one can for now.  Twice a day, she gets the liquid one hour before the pill.  I cut a pill in half and crush it into some food.

Besides all this, Prissy is still getting ear meds for her ear infections.  Quite frankly, our kitchen counter looks like a pharmacy shelf!



Dr. Gage said we'd see results by Monday.  Oh, and she also commented on how gentle Shawn was with Prissy.  I think this doctor had no trouble seeing how much we love and need this little dog.

Once home, Shawn sat with Prissy as she slept in our bed.  I ran off to the bank & to pick up more canned dog food (she did eat some!).  I was exhausted.  I never understood what is was about constant crying that makes you feel so drained.  All I wanted was to sleep.

Shawn sat with Prissy to make sure she didn't jump off our bed and I slept about an hour.  Throughout the day, Prissy slowly, gradually improved.  The next morning, I was doing dishes and she stood at my feet, looking up at me and wagging her tail!  Late morning, she stretched out and pushed her legs against my body.  She had been very weak in her hind legs, a symptom of disc problems so this made my heart flip.  Earlier, I'd picked her up to take her to the grass outside and she fought to get free from me.  Prissy's legs pushed against my arm!

We traded Easter dinners with our families so one would be home to stay with Prissy.  When I went to my folks' house, I was strangely transported to a world where there was no worry or upset.  Even though Prissy was slowly acting like more herself, I was still concerned.  The constant chatter from my family members kept me preoccupied from my anxiety.

Today, after I got home, I called Dr. Gage.  I told her briefly how Prissy had improved dramatically ever since that first shot.  "OH GOOD!  I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!!!"  Dr. Gage was excited.  I went over a few questions with her.

After the 2 weeks of steroids are complete we may never see symptoms again.  Or, it could recur and we'll do steroids again.  It's such a small dose, Dr. Gage it wouldn't hurt Prissy.  Doggie steps for the foot of the bed are a big no-no.  Dr, Gage was strict on this, saying that we needed to get a ramp if this is a place where she may be trying to jump.

Of course, Shawn said he would build one just as soon as he could.  The main thing now is that we have to keep the dogs from jumping.  As soon as we'd gotten home on Saturday, we'd lined the couch with boxes.  Lucy has a favorite chair she climbs to keep watch on the streets.  She seems perturbed that she can not reach her spot.  Well, I'm sorry for that but her knees pop like an old man's as it is.

I cannot describe how I felt after speaking with Dr. Gage.  I did of course, call Shawn & explain everything to him.  The mental anguish that I felt has been lifted and perhaps we've got a few good years ahead with our companion.

Tommorow, I go back for a second round of breathing tests to see if I really do have a mild case of emphysema and hopefully I can snag some free samples of this medication I'm on.  We're gonna need it!
I tried & tried to get a good photo, but she kept walking toward me, wanting to be under my feet.  I gave up.  I finally got this one in the hallway after about 15 tries.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Emotional Drainage

Slowly but surely I've been getting over the need to constantly eat.  When I do feel the need to snack mindlessly, I have popcorn.  As a result, I've lost 3 pounds within the last 3 weeks.  This places me at 111 pounds.  At my lowest, I weighed 107.  That was a result of a wisdom tooth being pulling and developing dry socket.  I didn't eat for a week.

This pleases me.  My cravings for cookies, cake and ice cream are not usually there.  Occasionally I crave something sweet so I have a fiber bar.  Less and less I am feeling the wanting for a big tub of lard.  Although after one particularly bad day at work, I swore up & down I'd stop for ice cream on the way home (I didn't).  Lately, hunger just seems to get in the way.  Eating seems like a chore, something to make me stop what I am doing.  Staying super busy until bed time was not my intention, but things have piled up on me. 

That may be a tip to some of you who cannot put down the bag of chips.  I have found that we can now finally maintain potato chips in the house, as long as they are the right kind.  Pringles are a neat option because I can have a handful, put the lid back on the can, and walk away (without coming right back!).  You can't do that with regular chips unless you get a bowl.  This way, Shawn can have his chips, and I can refrain from eating the entire package.



On another note, one reason for my busy-ness is our 13 year old dog.  Prissy was with us in the rent house and suffered many heaterless winters alongside her owners.  She's had stomach surgery, a wad of cat hair lodged behind her eyeball, our other dog's teeth around her neck...


This little dog has seen some days.  She wasn't feeling well for about four days.  I hoped it was a bug that would pass but it never did.  The vet told me she has an ear infection in both ears, a bad knee, probably artritis, and inflamed gums.

Good lord, we were just at the vet a couple of months ago!  The next day, Prissy was given a professional teeth cleaning, lost one tooth and sent home.  I'm administering her medications for the ear infection and I'm finding it's much easier than the last bout in February when I was giving her three pills per day.

I bought doggie steps for the foot of the bed.  If Shawn & I are both home, we're usually there, watching movies.  And of course, our dogs are in our laps.  I'm not freaking out about the cost of all this just yet.  Today I've been concerned for my dog's well-being.

After I squirted ear wash and antibiotics into her ears, I sat on the couch with Prissy in my lap as I gingerly stroked her back, ears, and neck until she was a hair away from being totally asleep.  I just began to pray, to beg Jesus to heal my dog.  I prayed and begged for about ten minuets.  I cried softly the entire time.  I need my dog to be better so I can chase her down the hallway.  I need her to bark at the mailman.  I need to see her humping her Hump Pillow, which she always drags out when company comes.

She just kind of mopes around.  She walks very slowly.  She sleeps mostly.  Where has her energy gone?  I just cried and cried.  I felt completely emotionally drained.  I don't dress my dogs in outfits or anything but they mean so much to me.  I don't expect people with kids to understand just as I can't understand people with kids.  When you don't have children, your pets are what you care for, raise and teach.  I don't refer to them as my "kids" but they keep me company.  They make me laugh.  They comfort me.  They give me stories to tell.  They give me something to come home to when Shawn still has a couple more hours at work or a night at school.

Now I just feel as though I need a nap.  I really need my little dog to be alright.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The Kitchen WAY Before

I came across this photo while searching for some others.  This was taken shortly after the ceiling fell in, but after some clean up.  Shawn had patched it a while ago but as you can see, it was never very pretty.  Freaked out the dog to some extent.


 This was when the sink backed up last summer.  It'd been dripping & leaking for the last year.  Shawn said he never did anything with it because he was wanting to do the whole thing--as in get a new sink, a new everything.  It was worth the wait.


I just thought this photo was cute so I stuck it there.  It's my blog.  I can do what I want.  I was out cold one lazy Sunday afternoon and apparently had a pile of puppies upon me.  Lucy is nestled cozily within my backside.

Monday, April 18, 2011

The Kitchen Part 6

We bought the house & signed the papers in March of 2002.  This is April 2011 and a typical Texas summer is upon us.
AND I FINALLY HAVE FREAKIN' CEILING FAN!!!!!!!



It still needs to be stained but Shawn put it well when he said, "I'm glad you caved on the trim."  Yes, the price was frightening at $16 per stick but it looks very nice and all we had to do was endure three hours (the job took 20 minuets) with Shawn's old buddy Richard--he has an air nail gun; Shawn does not.  He surprised me with a life size can of Duff to add to my Simpson's collection.  Awwww. 


After Shawn finished the grout on the island on Saturday, he left his buckets & tools in the sink overnight.  I blamed him for the haze on my brand new week-old shiny sink.  He swore up & down he didn't do it & that grout wouldn't do that.  I scrubbed with stainless steel polish for a half hour and still nothing.  We've lived here for 9 years with a cruddy ceramic sink.  Before that, we lived in a crappy rent house for three years that also had a crappy ceramic sink. 

This is the first nice sink I've had since living with my parents.  I treasure it!  I am disappointed.  Whether who's fault it was I suppose does not matter in the long run.  It's only things.  Things decompose and rot.  They mean nothing.

Still, I had a shiny sink for a whole week. 

Still sucks too.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Shoebox

THE SHOEBOX
A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other,
except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.

For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one
day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover.

In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe
box and took it to his wife's bedside.

She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money  totaling $95,000.

He asked her about the contents. "When we were to be married," she
said, "My grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if  I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll."

The little old man was so moved, he had to fight back tears. Only two
precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all
those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness.

"Honey," he said, "That explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where
did it come from?"

"Oh," she said "that's the money I made from selling the dolls."

A Prayer.......
Dear Lord,
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man;
Love to forgive him;
And Patience for his moods;
Because Lord, if I pray for Strength,
I'll beat him to death, because I don't know how to
crochet.

Be Careful Questions

I have many questions that no one can answer.  I've spoken to seasoned pastors, friends, family and everyone tell me the same,  "God doesn't want us to know everything," or "Be careful about that".  I've been a Christian for 21 years, saved at 9 years old & my head hurts!
I just read "23 Minuets in Hell" & it didn't answer my questions either.  I try to study on this subject but cannot make sense of anything or find what I am looking for.
Hell was created for Satan & his angels, not for man.  Everyone says God does not send people to Hell, they choose for themselves.  How could people choose an eternity of torment?  If a person spent one second in God's presence, why would they chose to be without Him?
God created every person that ever lived, knowing if that person would accept Christ or not--why create something knowing he or she would deny Him?
I do not wish for the text book answer why people go to Hell.  I want to know why denying people are even created and why they go to Hell.

I just sent this to Joyce Meyer Ministries and am patiently waiting for an answer.  This question has been on my mind for many years.  Mom tells me, "Be careful."  Am I questioning God?  Don't we all do that at some point?  Or is it simply a matter of asking, "Why is the sky blue?"  Some scientists may say because of the ozone layer and how the sun comes through it makes it blue.  And they could tell you this because they first asked.
(I am not certain about that--it's been many years since high school, but it creates a valid example)

Dad & I have discussed this a few times.  After hearing some of my concerns, Dad felt comfortable confiding in me a theory that he has told no one on earth.  I hope I am not violating his confidence by writing this here, on a private blog.  He wondered if people go to Hell for an eternity or for just a little while.  He said he could never bring it up with others because he knew what they say.  This is what we've been taught.  This is what I've been taught, and yet I question it to the fullest extent.

The reason is because my parents loved me deeply as a child, I was very fortunate for that.  When they punished me, they hated to do so but discipline was necessary.  I am sure they did not want to send me to my room and ground me until the end of time.  They would never see me again! 

Why would God do that?  He creates a person, allows a pregnancy to occur, and puts in that baby everything that make up his personality, his dreams, whether he will be mellow or highly emotional.  God creates that baby out of pure love, because God is love.  God also knows whether they baby will grow up to love Him, ignore Him, or shake his fist at Him.

The latter two results in an eternity in torment, desolation, isolation, pain, emotional pain, and so forth.  Why then, create that baby to begin with, knowing he would not love God back?  Sure people have told this person about Christ, how He died for us, took on our sins and bridged the gap between us & God.  People have told this person that if he denies Christ, he will spend eternity, a lifetime that never ends, in pure torture. 

But does this person really understand all that?  Does he know what he is choosing?  I've been saved for 21 years and I don't understand all of that!  I have never seen God, nor experienced bliss in His direct presence.  I have not seen Hell nor experienced its pain.  I do believe in both, but if a person experienced either for a fraction of a second, wouldn't that be making a choice? 

What I am saying is that a person in his right mind surely would not choose to spend all time in torment.
You say, "Well, they are choosing that by denying God."
If someone laid our vacation brochures for Hawaii or the Sahara Desert, which would you chose?
If you had a hard time understanding that Hawaii or the desert even existed, would you chose neither?
And if so, why does that result in a very long, extended vacation in the desert?

Now, I don't want to get into that whole, "God is like a kid with magnifying glass over an ant hill."  That's just stupid, I don't believe that at all.  I do believe God loves us, saved or unsaved.  And I do believe that it pains Him very much when a person is sent to Hell.  Then why put Yourself through that pain?

Oh!  I do not understand any of this!  Why does it have to be so hard?!  Why do these questions nag at me all the time? 
I do not write this to have someone turn away from God.  I write this because God created me to be curious, to ask questions.  Even my mother will tell you that the word I used most as a child was, "Why?" 
Quite often, she would answer back, "Because."  And that was never good enough for me.

It still isn't.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

5-Hour Jittery

I'm not a fan of energy drinks.  I had one, once at work.  I zipped around like a crazy person for about two hours, came home and fell into a coma.  Another time, I got a Slurpee without knowing it was an "energy" Slurpee.  Everyone said I was talking a lot and really fast.  I have no recollection of that event.

Today I was desperate.  I'm running on very little sleep and it's my own fault.  It's weeks like this that make me wish there were more hours in the day.  (Dad said if that were true, you'd only be a work for more hours per day)

The ads for 5-Hour Energy claim that their drink has as much caffeine as a single cup of coffee.  I typically drink cups at a time so I never figured this drink would do much for me.  But, as I said, I was desperate.  I dragged my feet next door to the 7-11 and set a berry flavored bottle on the counter for a whopping THREE DOLLARS! 

Back at my station, I opened the tiny bottle and took a sip.  It was so nasty, I coughed.  I chugged it as fast as I could but still tasted it an hour later.  I examined the bottle.  Lots of B Vitamins and a little caffeine.  Well, I take a B-Complex each morning and caffeine is a known food group in my family so I didn't expect much.

Sadly, I was right.  After twenty minuets I felt nervous and anxious.  I was still super sleepy, only now I was jittery.  My recommendation?  Save your money. 



Coming up....Hopefully I can get back on track writing about nutrition and finding healthy foods that don't taste healthy.  The kitchen has had me side tracked for a while....

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

A week after my birthday, my immediate family gathered together for hot dogs & cake.  My brother-in-law was not there.  He went to some motorcycle rally which apparently my sister really wanted to go to.  She expressed this to my own husband as they smoked outside.  The week of my birthday was no good because a craw fish fry was going on at the Harley Davidson dealership.

The same thing happened last year and it worked out for me because mom cooked chicken fried steak, invited me & Shawn & told no one else.  That's just fine by me.  Next year I think I'll just tell everyone to go do what they want to do; I don't want anyone mad because the day of my birth fell on an inconvenient day of the year.  More hot dogs for me!

(My mother-in-law always places my name on a cake along with our niece's on that side who has a birthday the same week as mine.  Double the cake, double the happiness.  And no one complained about there....)

Earlier that morning, I'd cleared some stuff from the kitchen and Shawn claimed to have stepped in blood.  "That's a stain on the floor," I said matter-of-factly.  "That's where the fridge was."
"No, it's wet!  I stepped in it!"  You sure did.  HA HA!

I checked the pets and no one was cut or bleeding so I kind of forgot about it.  An hour later I heard a repeated squeal coming from the back portion of the house.  We have an additional that built in the 70's.  It's complete with horrible drafts and a fire place.  It's kind of turned into a junk room because the temperatures run in the extremes in there.  I'd placed a large piece of cardboard in front of the fire place and stacked some junk in front of it.

I thought a bird had gotten in maybe.  It was such an odd sound.  The cat was poking around in the laundry room, where I had recently stacked some of Shawn's garage garbage in the back half.  She kept poking around the crates but  never found anything.  I checked the den and nothing was scurrying about.  The cardboard covering the fireplace was slightly askew.  Hmm.

Call me crazy but I know I've heard chattering or scuttling or something moving around in that den for months.  I figured it was a mouse but I was afraid to lay out traps or poison because the stupid cat would surely find it.  I mean, either the mouse or the poison.  Either one.

After the birthday festivities, we stopped off at my mother-in-law's to show of the kitchen tile we'd picked out that morning and headed home.  Once inside, I headed straight for the kitchen and dumped my stuff on the counter.  Shawn walked in and stopped at the doorway, staring toward the den, around the corner from where I stood.

"Don't come around on this side," he cautioned.
"Why?  Is there something there?" I asked.
"I don't know what it is!" he exclaimed.  "You just stay over there."
"Oh, it's probably a rat.  Is it a rat?"  This question was asked stemming from a previous occurrence of a rat making it's way through a dryer vent, getting its hind legs caught on a glue trap, and getting itself trapped within our non-functioning dryer.  Shawn The Conqueror took care of the situation while I kept the dogs away & swore we were getting a cat within the week.

"I don't know what it is!" Shawn exclaimed.
I never was too squimish.  And if I was ever to be afraid of anything, I would be more afraid of something alive, than dead.  "Well, is it alive or dead?" I asked.
"I dunno!"
"Oh, Shawn, it's probably just a rat!" I marched straight over to the back door and peered down.  "What is that?" I asked.  Something with hair lay before me.  It was most certainly dead.  And upon closer examination, it was missing its head.

Shawn took a closer look.  "It's a squirrel!"  It had no tail and it had no head.  There was no pooling blood, or any blood for that matter, no guts or anything.  Just a tiny little body with tiny hands & feet.

"That must be that 'bird' that I heard this morning.  ...And the reason the cat refused to leave the laundry room," I said.  Shawn got the critter with a shovel as I poked around the junk in the laundry for the remains of a head, fur, anything that might rot & stink.  I found nothing.  I did notice the dogs didn't eat all day.  Neither did the cat.  I don't suppose there's much meat in the head, but perhaps the fur was quite filling.  Where is the skull?  Did they eat that, too?

I'd repositioned the cardboard on the fireplace & made a mental note of the dogs' last rabies shot and suddenly realized the cat had not gotten in a couple years.  It's been a couple weeks now and she's fine.  She's no more weird that usual, anyway.

Still, you have to wonder what attracts these critters to our home specifically.  We've had opposums in the back yard, a raccoon gave birth on our roof, a massive rat got trapped in the broken dryer and now The Squirrel of Sleepy Hollow has found his way to our back door.

That squirrel is the evidence of a rodent that's been accounted for since we got Evil the Cat.  At least I say for sure she's doing her job.



                                                           TURN UP THE VOLUME!!!

I've attempted to insert my video from YouTube.  Not sure how this is gonna work.  For future reference, I've always wanted to make a video of this cat with the Jaws theme.  You ought to see the way this cat hides behind a corner & leaps 10 feet into the air at you as you come walking around.  Or the way she pretends to be sweet & loving, then suddenly grabs your wrist (a vital artery there) with blow claws and sinks her teeth in if she has time before you snatch your arm back.  She's evil, I tell ya!

Disturbing Commercial

The latest ad for McDonald's features a variety of children poking around bright red Happy Meal boxes and the whole point of this is to disclose that a portion of the price goes tot he Ronald McDonald House.  That's not the disturbing part; that's pretty awesome.

What disturbs me is the fact that these children are poking into Happy Meal BOXES.  I'm 30 years old & I vaguely remember the Happy Meal box.  I do remember the switch though.  It was a grave day when you could not longer pop out the cut-outs for the toy car to drive through it's newly formed "tunnel".

Anyone under the age of 25 might see this commercial and wonder why the children are poking around little red boxes.


The Happy Meal Box.
Yet another reminder of how old I'm getting.  Sigh.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Rest For The Weary

Yesterday was Sunday.  Sunday was the only day we'd be able to rest before going back to work after a 13 day work week.  I cleaned up a little in the morning.  We watched TV & movies till 3:30 when I just couldn't sit in the bed anymore.  My butt was sore.  My back was already sore.  I showered & finally changed out of my PJs and did some more house cleaning.  What can I say?  I can't fully relax if that stuff is waiting for me, reminding me that it needs to be done.

I screwed the remaining handles into the cabinets, put away some spices that were waiting for paint to dry.  I'd actually tucked some spices that get get used as often inside a cabinet so the shelves look barren.  Just wait until I snip our mother's Ivy plants.  Heh, heh.

New light switches, ceiling fan, grout the island (I HAVE A FRICKIN' ISLAND!!!!!!) put in the sink clips, stain & add the trim.  These are all things I cannot do so as far as I am concerned, I can simply enjoy my kitchen now.  I only wish I had the energy to do so.  Ha, ha.

Oh, and here's a little P.S.  I really don't understand how you fast food addicts live.  We ate that mess for four days and didn't poop for five days.  We ate french fries from 3 different places--they all tasted identical.  My face looks like a fourteen year old's and all that grease in my blood veins had made me sluggish.  Fast food is evil.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

I Need A Vacation

The running gag had been, "Let's go get a ceiling fan.  That is after all, why we started this thing!"  That's all I wanted!  The light bulb is still dangling from the ceiling, pointed in the direction of the living room.  Shawn was so excited to work on the island yesterday that he never got the fan.  I spent eight hours finishing the painting.  Yes, eight.

Later in the evening, I proudly organized stuff into the upper cabinets, now finally painted.  "Well, if anything, this whole process has forced me to clean out some stuff, throw some away, and get organized," I said.

"How could you be anymore organized without being obsessed?" Shawn asked.
"Is that a compliment?"

There's still some smaller things to be done.  Handles on the cabinets, trim on the counter top, ceiling fan, island (I HAVE A FRICKIN' ISLAND!!!!!!) and so forth.  Shawn finally shaved last night and I excitedly commented, "Oh good, I can clean the bathroom tommorow!"
"You're not gonna take one day off to do what you want to do?!" he said.  (Today is Sunday, the last day of our vacation.  And we didn't play frisbee golf even once!)

See, the thing there is that every time Shawn shaves, it looks like someone shaved a cat over the sink.  And usually, unbeknownst to him, he happens to shave the day after I clean the bathroom.  The room was pretty filthy since we cleaned up in there while the water was shut off (a butter tub and a gallon of water) and we'd tracked half the kitchen dirt to the bathroom floor.  Shawn said he'd planned to shave and I made a note of it.

But even still, there's some cleaning to done, dishes to wash, an so forth.  I may knock it out early this morning & just stay in bed the rest of the day.  Now, that sounds dreamy.

I am really wishing I had taken a before picture here.  The floor was totally rotted & without the a before picture, this just doesn't do it justice!  Shawn's is planning to put back the shelf supports and I can lay out my cleaning supplies properly.  Yay!

I am really glad for the light over the sink, even if it is a purple grow light for plants.

The final photos ought to be within a week or two.  Ha, ha!  Isn't it gorgeous?  I can't wait till I can save up a little cash & buy little neat stuff to put on the wall.  Shawn might be making me a little shelf to place over the stove, complete with little hooks for my measure cups, spoons, and other things.  I might even get one those cliche' French wall hangings with grapes and wine on it.  (don't count on it though)

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Kitchen Part.....Who's Counting Anymore? or Dusty Haze

I'm not sure what happened yesterday.  We were gonna stop & finish up next weekend.  First thing in the morning we headed out to make all the returns for all the extra things we'd bought, just in case.  Those returns paid for the ceiling fan.  While at Lowe's, returning the extra plumbing stuff we'd bought, we went ahead & picked up the tile, grout and such for the island.

Shawn dragged me over to the trim and showed me something with Ivy engraved into it.  My eyes immediately went to the price tag.  Shawn covered it with his hand.  "Don't look at that!  What do you think?"  I finally gave in. 

"Are you gonna have a stroke or a heart attack?" he asked.
With a smile I replied, "I may have one of each!"

For a saver to spend money, it's painful.  But we would have made a loan payment this month and that loan is gone and done with.  Some of the things we bought was paid for with PayPal money--closet junk I'd sold on eBay.  After deducting these things from our running total, I was freaking out much less.

Shawn went into project mode after a nap & I got to work after a Crystal Light energy drink.  We were supposed to take a break but Shawn got excited.  As for me, I was cringing over the dusty haze that covered every flat surface.  We'd closed off the kitchen while I sanded but it carried still to every room of the house.  And while the kitchen was closed off, Lucy (the formerly abused dog) decided to freshen up the rug in her usual places. 

On a side note, our other, non-abused dog, Prissy held it until she was ready to pop.  The day I was sanding, I took a  break & carried Prissy through the kitchen so she could get to the backyard where she peed for a solid 5 minuets.

Lucy hid for most of the construction.   ....And let me know how she felt about the neglect by adding to the wonderful smell in the living room.


LuLu laid an egg despite the noise & chaos.  She guarded it as usual, by puffing up and hissing at me every time I came into the living room.  I might have a tiny omelet today.


I'd shampooed the rug, dusted the furniture, vaccumed the carpets (again) and scrubbed and scraped on the kitchen floor because some people don't believe in drop cloths.  I cooked for an hour, cleaned up after dinner.  And for some stupid reason within five minuets of opening my eyes this morning, I decided to finish the painting.  I'm writing while a soda kicks in, but already ready to go get started. 

We do have a second week of vacation available to us this year.  I am so looking forward to that!

Friday, April 8, 2011

Don't Take Love for Granted

I really am truly grateful for these people that love me.  Last night Shawn was going on again how he wish he'd done this kitchen thing sooner, that I deserved it.  "You never ask for anything," he said.  He said lots of nice things & I told him how much I appreciated that.  It's so easy to believe that all you do unnoticed and overlooked, you know?

But it's not just that.  Angel with her peach cobbler and beautiful card.  Lisa--a woman I barely know--giving me a $50 gift card and then feeling bad it was the day after my birthday.  (Don't feel bad about that!  I need to get that woman a cake or something!)  Mom, buying me sneakers for my birthday and regularly sneaking sugary treats into our magazine trade offs.  Shawn, for building me the most beautiful kitchen.  OK, so the light bulb is still dangling from the ceiling and some painting still has to be done but just you wait till I take the final photos!

How can I walk around and think that everyone hates me?  I joke a lot about being so mean, I'm actually not, I just carry a bit of an attitude.  It's my mountain that I circle over and over, still searching for the Promised Land.  Eventually, I'll find a way to go over the mountain and the love of these wonderful people will help me do that.

I must be tired.  Look how poetic I just got.


Shawn had mentioned a few times that he didn't mean for me to be working so hard on my birthday.  He's really bragged on my sheet rock texture, among other things.  As I was on my swollen knees on the hard floor painting a base board I told Shawn, "You know what I want next year for my birthday?"
"What?"
"A gift card!!!!"



Final photos and a Before and After slide show coming soon!

For My Next Trick...

My body hurts.  My body hurts so badly!  Well, the new sink was kind of a nightmare since the plumbing into the wall has been around since the dinosaurs.  A pair of channel locks got thrown and many choice words were thrown as well.  I was sent on two trips for supply lines and a BIG bottle of Asprin.  Ha, ha.

My mom had been bugging me to let her take me shopping for my birthday and that all happened yesterday.  Shawn and I had decided that whatever wasn't finished in kitchen would wait until next weekend so we could rest a little on this "vacation" of ours.  I think we need a vacation from this vacation.  Anyway, I did some clean up first thing in the morning and went on a five hour shopping adventure with Mom.  Well, part of that time was Mom checking out the kitchen and lunch.

Also, the day after my birthday Shawn had come by my job with a not from Lisa, a woman he works with.  It said she had a gift card waiting for me at Victoria's Secret.  I barely know this woman.  I've met her only a couple times.  We sat with her & her husband at the Christmas party & the husband is just one cool dude with lots of neat stories.  He was a police officer in Houston (I think Houston) and he's been in the military for  a very long time so he chock full of great stories.  Lisa always seemed very cool and very sweet though I had not yet gotten a chance to chat very much with her.

I went to Victoria's Secret and the lady handed me a credit card slip to sign.  At the top of the slip it said, AMOUNT 50.00

"Is that the amount of the gift card?" I asked in disbelief.  The lady grinned wildly.  "Uh-huh!"
"Oh my gosh!" was all I could say.  Jeeze, I mean, 50 bucks?  That's a lot of money!

I went to Sonic and picked up an armload of strawberry slushes and headed over to Shawn's job.  Lisa was not there.  She was working at a different location.  SO I shuttled the shushie to her location where I must have hugged her about 12 times.  "No one's ever done anything like that for me before!  Thank you!  Thank you!  You barely know me!  Thank you!  Thank you!"

We must have talked for a half hour!  I really enjoy Lisa's company and I like talking to her.  I hope she knows how much this meant to me.  She was acting like it wasn't much since everything costs so much these days but it meant everything to me!  (I picked up a thank you card this week--that is the rule my mother taught me)

So, back to shopping with Mom, I made that gift card stretch with the ongoing sales.  And perfect timing!  I've got a bunch of thin kacki colored capris for work and all my underwear are navy blue, black, etc.  I was able to get FIVE pair of underwear and TWO bras!  I'm so hard on bras because I wear them twice before washing since I only have 4.  Well, now I got six!

I found some great deals with Mom too and for stuff I needed.  I really needed new sneakers and I found a pair on sale, plus I gave her a coupon.  My purse was pretty ragged out & we found one for $20.  Mom picked some clearance racks in JC Penney and found a shirt with the smaller version of Jolly Green Giant (that weird little green kid with lettuce for hair) and it says "Great things come in small packages" cause I'm short, see.  Another has a Peeps chicken with glasses and says "Chick with brains" with the Peeps logo underneath.

This excited Mom.  I'm well known for my love of those marshmallow critters and since I refuse to buy them (they are pure sugar) Mom buys one package each holiday & sneaks it into a bag of her already read magazines.  It's been going on for years.

We went to the Chinese buffet and I forced Mom to try foods she's never tried, to get a second plate, and even have a cookie after.  We both threw out our food inhibitions and just enjoyed it.  Though Mom did accuse me of trying to lard her up.  "You're just like you're dad trying to lard me up!"

Mom suggested Chinese and that was awesome because I was craving Chinese food after holding a heat gun to the old pink (yes, pink) counter top laminate.  As the glue underneath warmed and softened, I swear it smelled like Chinese food.  No pun intended, I am telling you the truth!

Once I got home, Shawn and I drove 40 miles so he could pay for his next class.  We stopped by the Putt Putt Golf place and I proudly carried my freebie coupons to the door.  They were locked.  A notice had been taped to the door:  Lockout due to failure to pay rent.  Or, locked out due to deadbeats!  I played Putt Putt once when I was 9 or 10 and I wanted to lay again with my loving husband!  I was kinda upset because the place is just going to sit there and rot now!

Once home, I was given the green flag to use the sink and the counter tops.  I prepared my dough and let it rise a meager 1.5 hours but by this time was 7pm and my body was hurting.  I made one Alfredo pizza and one traditional pizza, planning to freeze most of it.  I was finally able to shower around 8:30.

By this time, Shawn was already in project mode regarding the island he wanted to build (with matching tile on the top of course)  My head was spinning and I thought I might fall asleep while talked numbers, designs, measurements.  I was exhausted.  I wanted to rest today but ended tromping all the mall and Ft. Hood.

Today I have numerous returns to make.  All the plumbing stuff, an extra bucket of paint, a tile cutter that doesn't work...I gotta get gas, stop by the post office.....Then, I have to come home and prepare a huge meal of chicken fried steak, as promised for Shawn.

I am thoroughly worn out.
And my writing shows it.  It sounds like I was just describing some boring dream I had last night.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Vacation Shopping List

I'd made the mistake of taking Shawn grocery shopping with me.  He's always complaining we don't have anything to eat so I said, Alright!  Pick something!  The grocery bill was about double and I was almost embarassed at the checkout.  A cart full of high blood pressure, I thought as I placed the snacks on the belt.

I had a moment of I Want when I later wrote on my Wal-Mart list Cheetos and Little Debbie cakes.  I thought, I'm on vacation and I'm gonna eat what I want!  This morning however I was craving something nutritious.  I scratched out the two items.  I considered all the junk Shawn got at HEB and came to the conclusion that I wasn't really tempted by most of it.  Did I really want to plow through an entire bag of Cheetos?

I dug until I found a small container and dumped Greek yogurt into it, along with what was left of my Ranch seasoning packet.  WHOA!  Too much Ranch!  I added milk and crammed that with some Kashi crackers into myself like I hadn't eaten for a week.  Two night ago, I ate a HUGE romaine salad.  I was just craving something green.

It's so weird.  We had Jack n' The Box and Arby's and none of it tasted good to me.  At Jack n' The Box, the fries tasted like old, dirty grease.  I didn't get any fries at Arby's but I tasted SHawn's and it was the same.  The sandwiches didn't taste right either.

I guess my tastes have changed so much and so slowly, I didn't even realize it.  I used to occasionally crave fast food but I hate the fact that so many dirty hands are touching it and have convinced myself that every restaurant is nothing more than a hotbed of roach breeding.  (Shawn worked fast food in high school and it kind of ruined me)

I still crave sweets, cakes now & then but not nearly like I used to.  The Kashi crackers were so full of flavor dipped into into the overly-Ranch dressing.  I didn't realize I was even missing these foods.

        The "pantry" is now in the living room.  This is where I've been preparing lunch.  The microwave is somewhere over there.



                                                         This is where I prepare dinner.
                                                                          Ha, ha!

The Kitchen Part 4

When you see this picture you may wonder why I have such a fat complex.  I blame my mother for that.  Ha, ha!  The sanding is done & I really ought to throw these contact lenses in the garbage.  Did you hear me?  I said the sanding is done!  Whooppee!

If you can notice behind the plastic, I'd left my plants there.  I have some herbs I'd grown--the first time in my 30 years on this planet that I've actually kept something green, let alone grown something from a seed.

What was I thinking?  The cilantro may not make it but I'm OK with that.  I hate cilantro anyway.  Shawn taught me how to texture the walls so he could get started on the sink.  He said I was doing a really great job.  I didn't think it was such a hard thing to learn, just boring as boring can get.

With slippery sheet rock mud from the tips of my fingers to the base of my wrist, Shawn hollered at me from under a cabinet.  "Hold this faucet in case the sink falls on me!"  So grabbed the faucet with my muddy, slick hands and prayed to God it held.  Shawn later admitted that he should have undone the supply lines first but it all worked out.  As we lifted it out of the hole in the counter top Shawn exclaimed, "We have to life at the same time!"
"I'm trying Shawn!" I snapped.
Later, when we were exhausted and to the point of everything being funny, I asked him how he expected me to hold up a sink that weighed 300 pounds.  With hands that slick I said, "If it had fallen you'd have just died and I have to live with that.  I'd have to live with the fact that I let a 300 sink fall on my husband's head!"  We just laughed & laughed.
"And when you said we have to lift at the same time, I think my side was heavier than yours.  I don't what your side weighed, but mine was pretty heavy!"  We just laughed & laughed.

This was my floating cabinet.  This was as satisfying to me as it was for Shawn when he knocked out the Headache Cabinet that just floated next to the garage door.   Ahhhhhhhhh.....

No, it's not lit.  I told him after this is all done, this is another, official Non-Smoking Room.  I'll have him down to two rooms now & he won't smoke in the bedroom when I'm home.  Though the bed smells like an ashtray took a poo, I'll tell you what.  When Shawn started laying tile, I got the heck outta Dodge.  I'm terrible at math and I decided to go run some errands.  I saw this as perfect oppurtunity to wash the bedding at the laundromat and it just so happens they have a working sink so I could scrub the drywall from my hands.

With the tile adhesive setting up, we haven't showered and I'm drinking water from a gallon jug.  Last night, maybe due to exhausted, Shawn just went on & on about how sorry he was that he didn't do this sooner.  I told him it was all OK and that I'm grateful it's happening now.  "No, you deserve this, I shoulda done this a long time ago," he said with much remorse.
"Well, it's hard top come by time & money," I said.
"I shoulda made time.  I'm so sorry I didn't do this sooner."

We finally went to bed at 11:30.  I brushed my teeth over a clean butter tub (Blue Bell margarine, 60 calories per tablespoon) and laid down in blankets and sheets that smelled delishes.  Not one to go for very long without a shower, I scratched my greasy head & reminded myself to change my underwear when I got up in the morning.  I also reminded myself to remind Shawn that the outside faucet & the bathtub faucet were open.  At least I think that's what he said.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The Kitchen Part Three

Shawn floated the unfinished sheet rock--all that means is that he smeared mud over the imperfections, nail holes, etc.  It was my job to sand it down before he could texture it.  To me, this seems unnecessary but he said you could still see the smear lines under the texture so it must be sanded down.  I just do what I'm told.

We have a hide-away door that pulls out from the middle of the wall leading to the living room.  Our intention was to close the door to keep dust from landing on every surface in the living room and possibly giving Shawn's small bird an asthma attack.  HA HA!  (I hate that bird anyway.  Poops, literally, every 10 minuets)  We discovered that we had inadvertently nailed the door in when we had pounded in old nails to make the wall smooth.  That was a process!  Shawn got it opened up, pulled the door out, then closed it again.  "I don't know why I closed it!" he exclaimed.  But luckily, he got it opened again.

Sanding was miserable because of the dust.  I have asthma and wear contact lenses so I could not breathe or see.  Five minuets in, Shawn strapped a respirator my face and I began to panic.  I could not inhale!  I felt like I was suffocating!

He removed the mask quickly as he could but it felt like several minuets.  I ran to the dollar store & returned with paper masks.  Of course, today I will get wise and tie a bandana around my head.  Sanded sheet rock mud creates an odd texture when mixed with sweat.

I'll be glad when the sanding portion is done.  I don't care about sweeping bits of paneling, painting, scrubbing mud from the floor, but this dust has got to go!

I know it'll be worth it in the end.  I just wan tto get this sanding business done, cleaned up and just be freakin' done with it!

Everything but the Kitchen Sink

Yes, this is our sink.  It's an old fashioned variety from the Mesozoic Period, made of porcelain (same as a toilet), paint stains and scratched from here to there.  Doesn't keep the water hot, doesn't hold much and is well, downright fugly. 

Yes, you heard me.

When mentioned a new sink, I swear I fell to my knees right there on the floor.  We priced the shiny stainless steel ones & found them to be a little over a hundred dollars.  Sigh.  Shawn found the exact sink we were looking on eBay for $76 dollars shipped.

Our family had often poked fun at us for buying and selling everything on eBay.  We've done it for years.  We had a tax ID and was hoping to create a business out of the situation but it never worked out.  We tried selling video games & made a decent amount of money until one of the bigger players came in underselling us to a apoint of running us off.  And it worked out like that for football memorabilia, table top role playing games, Roman coins, precious gemstones, comic book trading card sets.  You name it, we've tried to sell it.  And failed.  And now we have boxes and piles of the leftovers all over the house.

I've been cleaning out this house since the day we moved in. 

Currently, I've been selling our action figure collection, little by little.  I've had Shawn's NASCAR collection listed for a year & a half and no takers.  I dropped the price on it so much, I may as well set it on the curb but I'm still holding onto that thread of hope.  Anyway, all the money we have in our PayPal account is from selling junk in the closet, treasures we once loved.

SO as far as buying the sink goes, I'm looking at that as free money.  And I got 4 points per dollar spent with MyPoints program so hopefully that'll get me closer to another Wal-Mart card & I can get my overpriced Asmanex prescription without totally being out of pocket. 

Ok, so it;s official.  We've now bought everything on eBay, including the kitchen sink.

The Kitchen Part Two

We did a lot of back & forth when it came to counter top tile.  I was especially excited about getting rid of the current pink counter tops but could not come to a decision.  We found some beautiful blue glass tile but it wa sa little pricey.  Shawn said we should get what we want and enjoy it.  I'm looking at this house as a starter home and comparing prices in my head.  Though not very well, I've never been good at math.

Shawn had even brought this up.  "How attached are you to this house?" he asked.  Not at all, in fact.  There's too much that's just wrong with it, like the off centered window in the bedroom and the fact we can hear our neighbor from our bed.  And after Shawn pointed out that the blue tile might clash with the floor, we'd need a new floor of course.  Of course.  This was getting out of hand.  The floor was fine, nothing wrong with it.  I actually like the floor because it's got so many lines & colors in it, you can get away with sweeping only every two months & no one would even know until they walked on it barefoot.  Of course, I don't do that all the time!

What I mean is that I can "like" the floor.  It all made me realize how temporary all this is, much like anything on this ball of dirt.  Why spend a small fortune on beautiful blue tile made of glass, a new wood floor when we plan to move out in a few years?  Really, I just wanted to paint the walls & get a ceiling fan!  I vetoed the blue tile.  A line had to be drawn.  I am the keeper of hte money, the bills.  I am a saver.  Some have even called me "cheap".  It's painful for savers to spend money.  It really hurts!

We'd spotted some beautiful tile, I then spotted the price tag of $7 per tile.  I exclaimed, "Seven dollars--RUN AWAY!  RUN AWAY!"  We laughed as other couples looked at us like, "Why are they haven't so much fun?  Don't they know how much work this is?"

I felt like the husband finding more shopping bags in the closet.  I kept a mental tally of everything, and a written tally with receipts by the computer at home.  I'm above admitting, I could feel a slight panic attack coming up in the middle of the home improvement store. 

I really wanted a blue & white kitchen but that would require a new floor, more money, more time--and why should it matter if I don't want to die in the house?  This is all fading away.  This is not my home, it's merely a temporary setting that we're trying to make more useable (and pretty) for the meantime.

My mansion in Heaven will have a fantastic blue & white kitchen with hardwood floors, more cabinets than I need, and more counter space than you could add up.  And everything here will be rotting, on its way to a landfill like everything else we create, buy, and place on a shelf.

Although, I do kind of hope I can get my dream kitchen before I go to Heaven!  Ha, ha!

The Kitchen Part One

Nehimiah prayed about rebuilding the city for four months before he gave the go ahead.  In my head I had been grouching about the sagging ceiling in the kitchen and how Shawn would never let me do anything to the walls or otherwise until that blasted ceiling had been fixed.   I prayed on that for a couple days &; when Shawn decided to demolish the kitchen, I didn't pray at all.  I just said--Go ahead!

Several years ago, at least seven, our ceiling had fallen in do to a ten year old roof.  It was raining and we had our usual pots, pans, and bowls covering the floor to catch the water.  As soon as we get the money, we'll have the roof done, we said.  We tucked ourselves into our bed, preparing for the next of manual labor when all of a sudden--CRASH!

We ran from the bedroom tot he kitchen in matter of two seconds flat.  My socks slid across the linoleum as I searched frantically for our Chihuahua.  "Where's the dog?  Where's the dog?" I panicked.

Chunks of sheet rock and water littered the floor.  I flung open the back door to find my small dog quivering--yes, quivering--directly on the other side of the doggie door as she became more drenched with cold rain water.

That and an abandoned air duct lead the many discrepancies that our ceiling carried.  I begged Shawn to put up a ceiling fan so I didn't have a heat stroke every time I made dinner int he nine months is a Texas summer.  "We can't put up a ceiling fan until the ceiling is done," he'd say.  And that is how the conversation usually went.

Past residents had caulked the joints between the wall & ceiling, creating a doo-doo brown colorizing of the caulk.  Many times I would walk into the kitchen and simply think, "I hate this kitchen," and sigh quitely under my breath.  The pink--yes, pink--counter tops reflect off everything I cook, forcing me to burn it all so as not to discover it raw later on.  The shallow ceramic, white sink shrieks back at me with its 50 years or so of stains.  The utter stupidity of placing a cabinet, floating in the middle of a wall, all by itself has hit us both int he head enought imes that it would make you want to scream.  The painted wood paneling was enough to drive Shawn to the nut farm as one should never, ever paint wood or wooden paneling, for that matter.

I prayed about it for two or three days.  God, please let him want to do the ceiling!  I only wanted to paint the walls, to cover the brown and add some brilliant color to my otherwise bland kitchen.  A couple gallons of paint would be quick, inexpensive, and I could have a whole new look without cigarette stains, without grease stains.  Please, God!  Let him be receptive to my idea, please!

I chose to wait for a time when my beloved was not exhausted, nor in a bad mood.  Last Friday night, Shawn brought up the kitchen.  At this point, I had said nothing of the matter.  The more Shawn talked, the more he wanted to do.  The next day went looking at tile.  Later that afternoon, he ripped the paneling from the wall and tore the mysterious cabinet from the wall.

The cabinet hung next to the garage door with a fur down above it.  Not sure I"m spelling that right....  A fur down is simply a boxed in area often built to hide plumbing, wiring, or what have you.  Shawn built one in the bedroom in hide air duct leading to the bathroom since attic space was limited.  Shawn really wanted to know what was in that fur down, and a little scared of might be behind it.

He's hit his head on the bottom of this single cabinet (built all by itself with nothing attached!) that he was REALLY excited to take it down.  It was the satisfied I'd seen him since the last time I put bacon on his cheeseburger.  And luckily, there was nothing there but a stupid cabinet built in a stupid place in a stupid way.  Much like the rest our house.


(I was writing this & fell out of the mood to write anymore--it was obvious in my writing so I stopped)