Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Husband the Hoarder

If there is one thing Husband  hates, it's a drawer that is less than running over full. Half empty is dreadful. Empty might put him in a coma, I don't know.

I have drawers (like in the dining room) that are specifically for stuff like table linens, napkin rings, etc. I have FORBADE Husband to go anywhere near them. 

His hands begin to twitch. He paces. He glances furtively from side to side and agrees.

Do you really think I believe him?

Ha.

So, about every three months, I pile everything he's dumped in those drawers in his chair and tell him if it isn't cleaned up by the end of the day, it's going in the garbage.

This works surprisingly well. But it is only temporary. 

He also tries to sneak his junk into my sock drawer, my drawers drawer, my bra drawer, my sleep wear drawer - well - you get the picture.

When he does that, I dump it all on his side of the bed. He likes to sleep in  his bed, so he takes care of that pretty durn quick.

He has the garage so full  only one car goes into our two car garage. 

He has his side of our little studio full. It's beginning to creep over to my side. GRRRR!

If you are one of our neighbors, I urge you, I plead with you, nay, I warn you: If Husband shows up at your house with a box, a bag or even bulging pockets, lock the doors.

I'm gettin' me a sign to read: BEWARE of Husband. He's full of it.

Friday, May 18, 2018

Blog or Rant?

I don't know whether to call this a rant or a blog. You decide.

Yesterday when we arrived home after taking Mother to the doctor, Husband checked the mail box. There was a package in our mail box.

There was a large, squashed, cardboard boxed package wedged in our mail box.

Husband could not pull it out, it was so tightly wedged in there.

Husband got tools and could still not get the cardboard boxed package out.

He finally used a knife, cut the end of the cardboard box, removed the contents, then broke down the cardboard box, thus removing it from the inside of our mail box.

Other packages have been delivered and pushed in our mail box, but  none quite so forcibly and none impossible to remove.

Were we upset? 

Yes, yes we were.

Do you know that when you attempt to look up your local post office's phone number in your phone book, it is not there? Only their physical address. 

You can call a 1-800 number for customer service.

Strike 1 and 2.

I call the toll free customer service number. There is a "twenty to forty minute" wait, as all were busy with other customers. As you probably knew before I told you.

Strike 3.

I'm a sucker, there's gonna be a lot more strikes.

I decide to hold. So I toted the phone with me while I: read a section of the local paper, flossed, brushed, washed and moisturized my face, put gunk on my hair, took my medicine and drank a glass of water, closed all the window blinds, put on my jammies, read a chapter in the Bible, read my Oswald Chambers devotional for the day, read an article in Guideposts, read a chapter in Heaven by Joni Erickson Tada, and cruised facebook for some time.

Strike 4.

After a 55 minute wait, a man welcomed me to the USPS customer service line. How could he help me? He was in, or at least from, India.

Big strike 5. 

Et tu, federal government?

He spoke English well enough, but still got confused about mail box versus cardboard box. At any rate, after a lengthy process he gave me a complaint number and said my local post office would be calling me by Tuesday or Wednesday. I remarked it was a pity that the local post office phone numbers weren't published anymore. So he happily gave me their number.

Strike 6

I wish he would have just done that to start with. As in, "Would you like to call them directly, or let me handle this complaint?"

I took the phone number.

But, Lord, I'm just too tired today to call.

Maybe after lunch.

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Catch Up

Well,  it's been a few weeks. I know I ain't blogging like I was. But I'm trying to get this book off the ground, and between that and everybody going to the doctor forty-eleven times, I'm pretty worn out, plus sick of the computer.

Husband had himself some surgery. He looks like he was on the losing end of a knife fight. (Although he reassures me that if he had been a real knife fight, he would have won, of course.)

He had this teeny weeny spot above his lip removed. Now he has thirteen stitches, a bloody, swollen mouth (think duck bill) and a bruise running down his chin and under his neck. 

What he doesn't have (now) is cancer. This is good. Right now, it's just bad and ugly.

Of course, he's not been able to bend down or lift. He's milking it for all it's worth. He's developed this whine to his voice when he says my name that reminds me of a dentist's drill.

Mother, of course, had to have a run in with the hospital during all this. She'd been on antibiotics for a U.T.I. and it caused her to develop Ulcerative  Colitis. We had the joy of spending the entire night in the ER. But she is better now, at least for now.

Other Brother passed a kidney stone. I think he got an A+ for his effort, since the doctor said it couldn't be done.

I'm still in physical therapy for my tootsies. It seems to be helping!

We won a million dollars in the lottery. (Not really, just seeing if you are paying attention.)

Our car has to have a software update. Is that totally ridiculous, or what? 

Next step in the book process is to get a nice list in order as to how I want the book to flow.

And I'm still waiting on the CD to come back from being "pressed". Either it was really wrinkled or somebody in Nashville is listening to it over and over....or I'm in a long line at the press place.

Well, I guess that's it for now. If you think of something else, let me know.