Finding Joy in Snarkville

There’s nothing like a wee bit of stress for Prince and I to start declaring that the other one can go live in the yard.  I know you are all jealous of the crazy love around here.  Here’s the short list of stupid things that bring about the panic:

We have a front loading washing machine.  Did you know that when you move them you need to have shipping bolts installed so that the drum doesn’t move in transit?  Neither did I until Wednesday.  When I looked it up and confirmed, sure enough they do (which I ought to note, I didn’t learn this from my moving company) — I called Prince in a panic.  I called to price said bolts.  I freaked out that our moving company didn’t have clue how to move my precious washer.

Update: On Friday the moving company called to confirm that they have hired the right person to prep our washer — which come to fine out includes draining said washer — a panic I totally missed.

I had more examples — but for the life of me, I can not remember them.

There’s no other way to explain the serious issue with vacuums we’ve had in this house YESTERDAY.

As most of you know, there is a trip upcoming and frankly, since I’m insane, I must have a clean home to return to.  Thus, I was running through my house like a mad woman doing something close 9 billion loads of laundry and scrubbing toliets.

(Sidenote:  I totally am a sucker for new, make my life easier, bathroom cleaners.  I drool over the self cleaning shower thingie, but don’t trust it enough to actually purchase it.  But when I saw this thing from the scrubbing bubbles that puts a ‘disk’ inside your toliet and keeps it clean for a week — I had to have it.  Just a note, that ‘disk’ isn’t a disk, it is a giant BLOB of goo.  A giant blob of GOO that you have to explain is POSION and should not be touched ever!!  And it SMELLS — faintly like flowers and cleanser — something my toliet probably ought not smell like.  Fair is fair, I’m happy that my toliet not smell like the stuff that goes IN the toliet — but seriously, I keep waiting for the odor to go away already.  Unless this blob keeps the pottys in this house extra clean and shiny (and maybe wipes down the floor around the potty, I’m doubting that we will be reflling our ‘disks’/giant blobs of goo.)

Duke loves to clean his room if the robot comes to vacuum, so he was set on a task.  He cleaned, puttting things away (or on his bed — whichever) and waited for the robot.  We grabbed the robot set him down on the floor and turned him on – he didn’t move.  A message to tech support later and I’ve had two e-mails from the iRobot people, but not ONE of them addresses the real question I asked in my e-mail.  The best part is that I’m questioning if the person responding can actually read.

So, I vacuum the old fashioned way without a nifty robot.

Then I go to use my handy-dandy Floormate ( you know the vacuum/scubber/wet stuff sucker-upper for hardwoods) in my bedroom.  I put the thing together, though I thought I’m missing a piece.  I try to use it and I made a puddle.  Yup, that’s it.  My FloorMate refuses to suck (not dry stuff or wet stuff).  We are HOPING it is because of this missing piece that Frankenhouse ate.

So, now I’m faced with the horrors of all horrors.  I must sweep, vacuum (with a normal vacuum cleaner) and MOP my floors.  Forgive me while I sit on the couch and eat a bonbon to steel myself up for the task.

I used to have a schedule.  After sending the boys off, I’d make coffee, sit down and blog.  My schedule is so far gone that the only thing that remains today is I make coffee.  Seriously this summer has thrown me for a loop and a half — so many things to share, so you get a list:

1. Remember me cutting down trees?  Well, it didn’t work.  It seems that I only thinned enough out in the upper canopy of FrankenYard to allow for MORE swaying of the trees and WORSE TV.  We’ve been back to cut more, but seriously, the trees that need to go at this point aren’t safe for ‘woman with hacksaw’ kind of cutting.
2. So, as you can imagine we have given up TV.  We will be putting the TVs on the street later this month.  Oh, wait, we aren’t.  We are getting cable.  Seriously. Stop laughing.  After careful research, we found that the 6 months of nearly free cable followed by the “Oh, my, make the bleeding stop” rate came out to exactly $28 more than we’d pay for satellite for the same year.  So, for $28 we are getting reception — now you understand right?
3. But wait there’s more.  You see with cable we get a REAL TIVO box again.  I miss TIVO.  Seriously, none of the non-TIVOs can compare to the goodness of TIVO.  (If I’m seriously honest, our first DVR was the Ultimate TV and that little Microsoft product was the best at the time — it took TIVO a few years to catch-up.)  But I get TIVO again.  TIVO, which will arrive on Monday.  TIVO which can not be set-up with a Cable Guy, because apparently shoving a card into a slot is HARD.  So my cable install appointment that would have given me clear TV yesterday has now been moved.
4. Enough about my TV woes.

My schedule will change again in August as I prep for school to begin (must.stop.crying).  I am still waiting on the supply list from the school, but Duke’s backpack arrived this past week (Thank you Queen Mum and Dad) and he loves it.  Now if I can only find shoes that meet his approval.

especially when you don’t fall asleep until 2am.  URGH, how I hate that.

Yes, I tried to go to sleep earlier — In fact, I was blurry with sleep from 10pm forward.  I could not push mysef over into the world of sleep.  And I blame this bird. (more…)

Did you know that rain was falling from the sky in Snarkville?  Oh yes, it is.  Seems that winter has finally hit and the TV stations are a twitter, what with all the sky falling and badness.  But this isn’t about the rain falling from the sky — this is about Frankenhouse. (more…)

The saga of Frankenhouse and the garden continues.  In this week’s installment, I offer you the fact that we add to the ‘charms’ of this lovely, overgrown, rose bush (with all the thorns) blooming, pollen overload, hummingbird loving outdoor living area that we have moles.

Oh, yes, at least we think that they are moles.  I’m hoping for moles — not that it makes it any easier to get rid of them, but for some reason in my little brain moles are handleable and not nearly as gross and scary as say “sand burrowing mice,” ok? (more…)

I see in comments a few ideas, allow me to assure you that most of them have been considered and rejected for a number of reasons.

1. A compact fluorescent?  Oh yes that seems like a PERFECT idea.  Except it appears that the shape of the sconce and it’s size doesn’t allow for the slightly larger fluorescent bulb.  I’m assuming that the sconce is circa 1975 or maybe mid-80’s, but it is made for approzimately a bulb the size you put in your fridge or oven.

2. A suction cup on a stick?  Interesting idea, do they make them to grab bulbs that are upside down inside a sconce? I wish this was a can light at the top of the stairs, but alas it is not.  It is a real live sconce where you shove the bulb deep inside it.

3. A larger ladder?  That’s actually not the solution as we have a 20′ extension ladder.  The light is positioned directly above the 3rd and 4th steps (give ot take 20+ feet).  The right ladder for the job would be a ladder that is made for stairs, one where one leg can made longer than the other.  However, we go back to those ladders aren’t cheap and we don’t own this house. (more…)

Oh yes, today’s installment is brought to you by the letter q* and the on going theme in our house….”It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

*A direct result of WAY too much Sesame Street. (more…)

In case you are EVER in this situation, allow me to share with you the basics of potty repair.

1. Short of cracking the tank or the bowl, you do NOT need to worry that the potty can not be repaired or will have to be replaced.  (This is important when the handle comes off in your mate’s hand and your understanding response is “I hope it can be fixed.”)
2. The actual mechanics of a potty are REALLY simple, and do not be shocked to find out that it may be held together with plastic and something that looks like a paperclip. (more…)

May no else’s morning begin like this:

1. Wake-up in total denial that it is morning.
2. Slowly pry your eyeballs open while wondering if it would be possible to stay in bed all day.
3. Curse the fact that the TV and the lights are on.
4. Feel the call of nature and decide that is the ONLY reason you will get out of bed and you are COMING.RIGHT.BACK.
5. Sit and do your thing.
6. Reach to touch the shiny silver handle.
7. Push down and feel something snap.
8. Realize that the handle isn’t magically popping back up like it is supposed to.
9. Curse.
10. Stare at husband blankly.
11. Realize that your day will involve you going to Lowe’s and talking to someone in the plumbing department.

I’d drink more coffee, but I fear it may compound my problem.