Another Kindle Daily Deal! Today it’s our Terri, and it looks fabulous!
Kindle Daily Deals are a wonderful way to discover authors. I get an email every morning telling me what the new ones are (so if I’ve missed some of us in the past, mea culpa).
Anyway, Kieran a couple of days ago, and now Terri. Good summer reading ahead!
So the back porch, which is the future site of my master suite/private space and the future home of all the furniture that is currently making it impossible to walk through my living room, is a long, narrow space (7’x32′) made even narrower by a big freaking staircase right in the middle of it.
We’re home. We’re tired. It’s cold and raining and it’s going to snow tomorrow night. My my my.
I think it’s time to move.
Richie has to be the best man in the history of the world. He’d worked his buns off because Jenny’s his SIL and because he’s Richie. I want more pictures, Crusie!
She did great. She hauled wood, she pulled things apart, she fed us at Kathy’s. Even I got into the action and helped Richie rip out part of the railing, and then Jenny and I, by sheer woman power, rocked the other section of it back and forth and yanked it it from the wall and floor. Richie and Jenny ripped and tossed things down the steps, then realized the steps were hanging by a nail or two, so Richie shored it up. Jenny and I attacked her air conditioner (she and Richie brainstormed how to put it in, and then while Jenny did it I was cheerleader). Jenny built a wonderful shelf and discovered that the porch-which-will-be-the-master-suite is already insulated. We broke a window. Veronica christened the new floor. We brought home enough wood in Richie’s truck to keep Jenny going for a while. And Richie took out the stubborn window and studs that were in the way while Jenny and i did a second run to Home Depot.
And then on our way home we stopped by Richie’s most beloved pizza place in the world, and damned if that man didn’t eat almost the entire thing. Normally we won’t touch pizza (though this one had mushrooms and no meat on it, so it wasn’t that bad an indulgence.
There is nothing better than NJ pizza. Trust me.
So — we hammered, we screwed, we ripped out boards, we … oh, yeah. They hammered and screwed and ripped out boards. I cuddled the dogs and read a couple of really great books. But hey, I’m the one who brought Richie.
So anyway, we’re back in the land of snow, the book is done and now I can some work getting the house in order, work a bit on the BOMH (Book of my heart — which is a project that’s not necessarily practical but you love it so much you can’t keep from writing it) and … oh, probably grandson for the weekend.
And I’d better go food shopping.
So now we’re up to date. I imagine Jenny will put pictures up for Cottage Saturday, but in the meantime we worked hard, even me, and got so much accomplished the mind boggles.
Krissie and Richie are somewhere between Vermont and NJ right now, on their way to pick up some lawn furniture I had that Krissie loved, and to help me pick out a lawnmower, but mostly for Richie to fill in the staircase so that I can move onto the back porch. God bless Richie. I’m sure Krissie will post tonight or tomorrow, but for right now, I will give you this:
By Thursday, there will be floor there. SO EXCITED.
So I got through four drawers, pulling out five things from each one. Didn’t get to the closet because disaster continued (just IRS and bank stuff – hey, it’s only money, but then we thought our ancient cat had crawled off to die, but she showed back up again. She’s on her last legs, but we just lost a cat a couple of weeks ago and I can’t deal right now).
But I digress. So I have 20k words to write and that’s easy peasy for me. So the book should be in on time. Phew!
But here’s my new plan. While everyone’s fussing about Jodi (?) Arias and some guy she murdered, they’re paying far less attention to the over 1,000 people killed in the garment factory disaster in Bangladesh. So. Disney pulled out of there last year because of the conditions, and I know conditions are terrible in most third world countries, but this is really appalling. Heart-breaking and infuriating that nothing is being done.
So, I’m going to go through all these goddamn clothes I’ve got and donate everything made in Bangladesh, no matter how much I may love it. Which will be hard, if it’s a favorite, but I’m going to do it.
I started looking at labels of the stuff I’d been wearing yesterday, I had Mexico, Kenya, Cambodia, and Guatemala. A complete United Nations of a wardrobe. But from now on I’m going to look at the label of every piece of clothing in all the baskets and put the B.D. stuff in the giveaway pile.
And I’m not taking anything out of my drawers and closets to wear until I put all the baskets away (Yeah, I’m inundated with baskets again.) The problem is, I wear two sizes right now. 1X on the tighter stuff but mostly XL. Once the book is done I can concentrate on food and exercise (and my Goddamn back) and with luck I can get rid of all the 1x (I already dumped all the 2x last year).
So that’s my plan. Anyone want to join me in dumping their BD clothes?
And it’s my sister’s birthday, and my first thought was, damn you. Damn you for doing this with your life and dying so early. In certain ways she was like a fairy tale princess — she was born lovely, sweet, shy, bright and talented. But the craziness of my parents took any safety away, and she ended up hopelessly cursed by some evil fairy. And she never could break free.
Maybe I’ve been watching too much “Once Upon a Time.” (Though actually I prefer Grimm).
Anyway, Happy Birthday, Taffy, you selfish bitch. I miss you so much.
So the one problem when I come to NJ is the two of us easily distract each other from our duties. So far I’ve gotten my stuff done — a bit over 12k words in the last three days until I hit a stopping point. Crusie’s done a half a dozen lessons for her McDaniels course but she needs to do more, and in the meantime she’s without a car and loaded down with cottage challenges. She has room for everything — she just has to figure out where to put things, and she’s in the spot I’m always in. In order to clean up one room you gotta move everything into another room. And then to do that room all the crap just moves on, until it comes round full circle, back to the place it started. At least that’s how it works with me.
She’s had various challenges, but last night she Washed All Dishes, which was more of an Augean Stable-type task than you would expect. I’m a firm believe in paper plates, which are great to start fires with in the wood stove, but she goes for the stuff that needs to be washed. When I got here I couldn’t walk in the kitchen.
Unfortunately right beyond it is the office and the access to the garage where Many Things are stored, and we need to hook up the wireless printer and Jenny needs to find papers so that’s what she attacks today. I’ll try to take a picture of the clean room before I leave tomorrow.
Then there’s our stations in the living room. When I visit I get to be Queen. I get the bedroom and the good bed (with anywhere from one to four dogs as an added accessory) and I get the recliner, while Crusie goes up and sleeps on a mattress in the attic and gets the gorgeous aqua leather chair that doesn’t recline. I NEED recliners.
My spot is on the left, which looks deceptively neater, and that’s where we sit and crochet and talk about writing and ogle the Property Brothers and mock the innocents on Love it or List It (and ogle Eddie). We’re good at ogling.
And Jenny’s figured out the perfect plan to keep the dogs from heading into the road and the neighbors’ territory. First she put up the edging that looks like mini white picket fencing, but Milton, the little bastard (which we say with all affection) would leap up on the short stone wall and then over the potentially impaling stakes (guess he has no vampire worries). So Jenny found flower boxes that match the stone to put in front of the mini-fencing (hey, it’s dachshund-size picket fencing) and now even Milton can’t make the leap, they pee outside (on the potting soil but hey, the rain will wash it off) and all is well.
That’s NJ in the throes of early spring, with forsythia blooming. It’s too cold in VT for forsythia, at least where I live. And here’s our early spring.
And tomorrow I go back there, and it’ll be snowing, and cold, and blowing, and blizzards and mud and volcanoes erupting and cyclones and typhoons …
Deep breath. If Vermont weren’t incredibly beautiful I wouldn’t still live there. And I love going for drives by myself, so this is all good. And I’ll be back next month for the eye doctor and kick Jenny out of her bed and her recliner once more.
Ah, it’s good to be Queen.