Thanks Blogger, you not only went down for the entire day yesterday which broke my streak of blogging at least once per day all year, but you took two of the posts from this week in the crash, never to return from whatever black hole they sent them to.
I recall the last post was weather-related about rain and snow. But I'm stumped on what came between the choir concert and the dog grooming. I'm sure it was scintillating. But now it's gone forever. Oh well, it is Friday the 13th, after all. The story goes, if I can learn to say the title of my blog post correctly it will cure me of fear of this date. (But I don't exactly fear this date in the first place. It's just much more fun to blame crazy things on the 13th than accept that crazy things happen every single day anyway.)
At lunch when I was downstairs warming up lunch, I thought, dangit, I'm not waiting to ask someone else to water my flowers again. I filled up the watering can just full enough that it wasn't any heavier than the coffee thermos I carry around and walked out to the front porch. I pulled the door closed because I'm still paranoid that Evan is a flight risk. I was thoroughly enjoying pruning and watering right up until the moment I tried to come back through the door and realized Nick had left and set up the lower knob handle to lock behind him. When you open it from the inside, you won't know it's set to lock unless you are paying attention. Guess who wasn't paying attention?
So instead of the 5 minutes I had planned to be outside, I'm now imagining the phone ringing and my IM going off while I stand here in my socks, watering can in hand, locked out of my own house.
Suddenly my mind flashes to the baker's rack, where the little black box hide-a-key still sits, after Sammi brought it in a couple of days ago complaining she couldn't get it open.
I wonder if I can patent some kind of giant sticky strap that carries your phone with you despite the lack of pockets. It should also have some kind of magnetic property that zooms the phone to the strap if you get more than, say, 5 feet away from where you've laid the thing, since the audience for this device clearly isn 't capable of remembering where they've last laid their phone either. Really, the only person I could have texted for a key was Nick, who was up at the high school for his last day ever, in the middle of doing a big moving up ceremony where Sammi's class vacates the freshman section of the bleachers and moves into the sophomore spot, and Nick's group comes down out of the bleachers to make room for the upcoming juniors, and there's crying and hugging and yearbook signing. Oh, and thanks to this recovery that doesn't let me sit in an upright chair for more than an hour without being in pain, I've had to miss two awards banquet things for his senior year already. Yes, let me imagine for one second having my phone and texting him in the middle of that to come let me into my own house that I've locked myself out of while he misses out on this senior moment. Ummm, not happening.
I decide it's better to get off the front porch staring hopelessly at the locked door and see if there's a way inside from the back.
So in my socks, which were actually relatively new and white, I make my way around the side of the house through the front gate, close it back carefully so there is no Evan escape later in the week, then make my way to the back gate that opens on the backyard. Or, that used to open to the backyard until it got pulled around in the high wind and is now off-kilter and can't be opened more that about 10 inches if you pull pretty hard backwards against the hinges. Did I mention I was worried about the weight of the water can?
So I throw the water can through the opening and realize I am being watched by two very curious puppies through the opening.
Oh, right. I opened the back door to let them out when I got downstairs. And I left it open when I went to water! So now I know there is just one yank and a jump through the opening to get back inside, which was enough of a motivation to get it done.
Now my socks are soaking in spray-and-wash in the laundry room, the flowers are watered, and the lunch was easily rewarmed. Plus, I didn't miss any work calls during my expedition.
Take that, Paraskevidekatriaphobia :P
I recall the last post was weather-related about rain and snow. But I'm stumped on what came between the choir concert and the dog grooming. I'm sure it was scintillating. But now it's gone forever. Oh well, it is Friday the 13th, after all. The story goes, if I can learn to say the title of my blog post correctly it will cure me of fear of this date. (But I don't exactly fear this date in the first place. It's just much more fun to blame crazy things on the 13th than accept that crazy things happen every single day anyway.)
At lunch when I was downstairs warming up lunch, I thought, dangit, I'm not waiting to ask someone else to water my flowers again. I filled up the watering can just full enough that it wasn't any heavier than the coffee thermos I carry around and walked out to the front porch. I pulled the door closed because I'm still paranoid that Evan is a flight risk. I was thoroughly enjoying pruning and watering right up until the moment I tried to come back through the door and realized Nick had left and set up the lower knob handle to lock behind him. When you open it from the inside, you won't know it's set to lock unless you are paying attention. Guess who wasn't paying attention?
So instead of the 5 minutes I had planned to be outside, I'm now imagining the phone ringing and my IM going off while I stand here in my socks, watering can in hand, locked out of my own house.
Suddenly my mind flashes to the baker's rack, where the little black box hide-a-key still sits, after Sammi brought it in a couple of days ago complaining she couldn't get it open.
I wonder if I can patent some kind of giant sticky strap that carries your phone with you despite the lack of pockets. It should also have some kind of magnetic property that zooms the phone to the strap if you get more than, say, 5 feet away from where you've laid the thing, since the audience for this device clearly isn 't capable of remembering where they've last laid their phone either. Really, the only person I could have texted for a key was Nick, who was up at the high school for his last day ever, in the middle of doing a big moving up ceremony where Sammi's class vacates the freshman section of the bleachers and moves into the sophomore spot, and Nick's group comes down out of the bleachers to make room for the upcoming juniors, and there's crying and hugging and yearbook signing. Oh, and thanks to this recovery that doesn't let me sit in an upright chair for more than an hour without being in pain, I've had to miss two awards banquet things for his senior year already. Yes, let me imagine for one second having my phone and texting him in the middle of that to come let me into my own house that I've locked myself out of while he misses out on this senior moment. Ummm, not happening.
I decide it's better to get off the front porch staring hopelessly at the locked door and see if there's a way inside from the back.
So in my socks, which were actually relatively new and white, I make my way around the side of the house through the front gate, close it back carefully so there is no Evan escape later in the week, then make my way to the back gate that opens on the backyard. Or, that used to open to the backyard until it got pulled around in the high wind and is now off-kilter and can't be opened more that about 10 inches if you pull pretty hard backwards against the hinges. Did I mention I was worried about the weight of the water can?
So I throw the water can through the opening and realize I am being watched by two very curious puppies through the opening.
Oh, right. I opened the back door to let them out when I got downstairs. And I left it open when I went to water! So now I know there is just one yank and a jump through the opening to get back inside, which was enough of a motivation to get it done.
Now my socks are soaking in spray-and-wash in the laundry room, the flowers are watered, and the lunch was easily rewarmed. Plus, I didn't miss any work calls during my expedition.
Take that, Paraskevidekatriaphobia :P
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