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I’ve been assembling replacement furniture all day today, fresh from the swedish wilds. I’ve got a dining room table now, and four chairs. These are the same table, the same chairs I had before, but wasn’t able to bring back with me. I sold them at a loss, bought them at a premium, and have blistered my hand putting them back together again. But regardless of the financial or physical calculations, I can sit, can eat breakfast, can have a space to be that was previously wasted in a pile of unpacked boxes.
I’ve also got this little pictured thing, a rolly cart intended to provide more surface area in an otherwise cramped kitchen. I can’t outcompete the microwave, toaster and blender for horizontal space, so am adding more (at expense of being able to fully open drawers). So far, putting stability issues aside, we’re getting along pretty well. Baby steps towards actually being able to have guests over.
We’ll be doing our family thanksgiving next week, our fakesgiving redux, but like others I’m still thankful now. I’m thankful, for my family, my friends, my home. I’m thankful for my baby nieces and the nephew-to-be, for good food prepared by kind people, for having decent work in a tough environment where everyone isn’t so fortunate, and for this restful weekend. I’m thankful for the chance to have run with Team HB on Thanksgiving morning, and for my Maija. And lastly I’m thankful that the flu that’s hurt others seems to be leaving us behind.
Happy Thanksgiving y’all.
I made my first real apple pie tonight. At least, I can’t think of another apple one I’ve done, or even any other pie in general (since CNHB says frozen yogurt pies with graham cracker crusts don’t count). I have no idea if it’s any good or not but it kinda doesn’t matter right now – I’m finding it hard to feel humble about this simple accomplishment. Sure, so everyone else is the whole friggin country is making pies and more tonight, but this little bastard is mine. You better be delicious dude. A lot of self esteem is riding on you.
(ps. CNHB made two herself. Thanks for logistical support little one!)
I could get used to three day work weeks.
CNHB points out that it’s just about time to get psyched for the GGG. Ok. I’m psyched. This Thursday, Davis Square, 9am. 4 miles? I’m gonna be “wicked fast” (actually if I can just beat Preggers McGreggers I’ll be thrilled). See you there.
Daytime in Manhattan induces horrible claustraphobia in me. As far as I can tell, (Manhattanhenge aside) the sun never actually shines all the way down to the street level. The (very stylish) Morlocks scramble about their business, Robert Pattinson-pale. At night the problem is less noticeable, the buildings and streets are more alive and lights reaching all the way up, more Shinjuku less box canyon pre-raging inferno.
My point is, I think I spent too many years in the other Manhattan to ever be truly comfortable in the big one.
The Leonids were today. I set my alarm for 3:30 this morning but when it went off some wise but no-fun part of my brain convinced my right arm to rethink. When I woke up later at 5:30 it still seemed dark enough to try (and VC emailed to say they were west-coast awesome) so dog and I hopped to the park to see what we could see. The short of it, there were no more shooting stars for us, just stationary ones (a surprise in and of itself). Also, lots of planes. Reminder for next time, find the dang tripod the night before. For some reason long exposures with the camera balanced on a rock never turn out quite like I’d hope they might.
(Also, FWIW, m seems to be better this morning. Still crying to herself a little but perkier, head back up, looking around.)
NP and I went for a little run in the rain yesterday, the first for me in the month I’ve been back. Subsequent to that, I had nightmares all night last night about how I was running the Boston Marathon today and had to somehow find the missing shoes and transit and get myself to the start line on time.
Fortunately when I woke up (stiff & somewhat immobile) it turns out it’s yjp and not me who’s running today. Good luck cowgirl!
Today’s the day my flickr pro account expires. Thirteen months ago I mentioned when I hit 10,000 views. As of this morning I’m at 57,000. How can I not renew with quantification of self-worth like that? It’s a funny time we live in, when everyone I meet is certifiably ADHD, no one (myself included) can make it through a meal without the omnipresent iPhone coming out for this or that time&soul-sucking reason, and the briefest snippets of anonymous attention is the only currency that matters. That and comments. Leave comments.
BTW, I’m still making moderate success in my “world’s cutest husky” spam campaign. I get quite a few hits through google image search on that term, but recently got my first through yahoo image search (which I wasn’t really aware existed). As of this posting, Maija is one picture short of being EVERY SINGLE PHOTO on the front page of results for that term. It’s the little things, you know.
Ninth-century Norse king & pirate, who killed and conquered and died in a venemous snake pit.
As he was thrown into the snake pit, Ragnar was said to have uttered his famous death song: “It gladdens me to know that Balder’s father makes ready the benches for a banquet. Soon we shall be drinking ale from the curved horns. The champion who comes into Odin’s dwelling does not lament his death. I shall not enter his hall with words of fear upon my lips. The Æsir will welcome me. Death comes without lamenting… Eager am I to depart. The Dísir summon me home, those whom Odin sends for me from the halls of the Lord of Hosts. Gladly shall I drink ale in the high-seat with the Æsir. The days of my life are ended. I laugh as I die.”
Laughing as you die is about how I’d hope you’d feel, having just run from New Haven to Boston. May 21-22, 2010. Anyone interested? We’re going to need another handful. I should also say upfront the cost is not nominal, it comes to $90 for each runner. But, I imagine that’ll include a team t-shirt.
As of this morning, my furniture is all here. So what next (besides unpacking these infernal bins)? A list of potential projects, for internal use only.
- Windows. The draft through them when closed defies all known laws of physics. Given cracks and condensation I’m guessing they’ll have to be replaced.
- Paint. There are some embarrassingly marred places. So fix, preferably without getting any on the couches.
- Rugs. Two 5x8s needed for optimum dog fur acquisition.
- Kitchen cabinets. I want to either replace the doors or (over-optimistically) figure out how to modify the current ones into something sexier.
- Lights & fan. This friggin’ living room still needs a light. I need professional help with this one.
- Kitchen faucet. I didn’t realize how bad this was until I had that nice one for a year in San Francisco. A small sink necessitates a tall faucet.
It was a really good day, earlier on. And a less good night.
Dog and I went up the Charles towards Watertown this morning, stopping for coffee and to see last of the leaves, with a bonus trip to the dam and this pedestrian bridge along the way. Then on to Burlington to work on first-pass raking the yard a bit. The angry acorn trees never give up. In general it was a very pleasant day with CNSMHB and the old people.
And then came home to that incident I linked to above. It’s very upsetting and I don’t really want to work or watch the World Series right now. Things have always seemed more or less safe here previously, for me anyway – most of the issues have been quality of life related to drunk kids having excessive fun. But this is 7:30 on a Sunday night – this is not that. I’m not sure what kinds of actions we need to take as a neighborhood but obviously the status quo isn’t working.
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