Skip to main content

It just gets better and better.

We're back in our home. For the moment. We'll get the thumbs up or thumbs down on whether everything's dry enough to shut off the fans today. (Cross your fingers that the Holiday Inn won't play happy host for another night.) But this week's a wash (errgh...no water jokes, please) for us, workwise. We're taking the whole week off to clean the house, catch up on laundry, and grumble.

To make matters worse, Henry was up half the night hacking and coughing and snotting away. At 3 a.m., I had a lovely conversation about phlegm and wheezing with the woman answering the hospital's 24-hour nurse advice line. Following her advice, we gave him warm apple juice and corn syrup that I stole from the hotel's continental breakfast pantry. And we turned the shower on hot and full blast and sat in the bathroom, in a makeshift steam room.

When I arrived back at the house this a.m., the MRGs were back, finishing up the roof, trimming shingles, picking up their mess. They had a ladder propped against the house to use for easy access. It sat right in front of the door, which meant I would have had to walk right underneath it to get in the house.

I chose to take the garage entrance, instead.
Can you blame me?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

Hair

This has become the age-old question...Why do men hate short hair on women? I've been thinking about this a lot because my current style, an angled bob, requires a bunch of fussing every morning to get it to do anything. My favorite haircut of all time, as far as ease of care, was my pixie cut. I loved that I could wash it, gel it, and be done. No blow drying or flattening or curling. Just gel and go. Very sporty. I thought it looked cute. My husband has another opinion. The longer the better is his motto. Thing is, my hair becomes an unruly, tangled, nappy mop when it gets long. If I had all the time in the world and Jennifer Aniston's budget, I'd be more than happy to grow it long and have others style it every day. In real life, I guess I'd rather go for comfort and convenience. And if you ask me, I think the pixie is dang cute. I suspect heterosexual men aren't hot on short hair, in general, because it's too much like their own hair. No matter how much jewel

Ho, Ho, Ho, How Many Times Can I Use "I'm too busy" as an Excuse?

I haven't had time to write. Work, swim meet volunteering, holiday decorating and shopping. But truthfully, I've not been in much of a mood to write anything anyway. Last night we put up the tree and Santa chachkies, and I drank my first egg nog of the season, so perhaps I'll be in a cheerier mood. Also, I have spent some time writing the annual Schoon holiday newsletter. If you happen to get a copy, treat it like a drinking game. Every time I make you roll your eyes, take a drink. Nog, wassail, Everclear. Whatever gets you through. One sure way to assist with merriment motivation is listening to Christmas carols. I'm not going to get into a debate over what truly constitutes a carol. You can "Jesus is the reason for the season" yourself until you turn blue; I generally lean toward the secular end of the holiday tune spectrum. And if you just gasped at my use of holiday instead of Christmas, go suck on a candy cane. It's my blog and my opinions. Deal.