Calm down. Not Beloved Neighbor, but others we really like too. It’s super sad. Yesterday she texted our little mini neighbor group that there’s stuff in their garage anyone is welcome to.
We stopped by.
Let’s just think of it as us helping them out, keeping them from making multiple trips to Goodwill, rather than perusing someone else’s junk for freebies, mmkay? We were happy to lighten their carload. Goodwill isn’t that close, after all.
I HAD been thinking about getting a Dustbuster. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find the charger, so I’ll get to use it for so long as the battery holds. What to do with it after that? Errr. No idea.
There was also one of those cool cupcake carrying bins that would’ve come in handy in the past, and now will in the future. Outdoor Christmas lights? Sure, why not? Some Hardy Boys books I hope Joe will enjoy when he’s older. A couple of sleeping bags that may prove useful. And then…
Happy New Year’s Eve! Maybe if you’re trying to stay up late tonight, this will help. Orrrrr, it might put you to sleep. In which case, lo siento mucho.
Hubby: Oooh, you doing another photo dump post?
Me: I thought I’d sneak one in before the year was out. Why? You like these?
Hubby: I enjoy the randomness.
He knows my middle name.
Anywho, without further ado, random things that made me think of you. (Move over, Dr. Seuss.)
The pinnacle of random. I’ve seen feet hanging out the passenger side, but the driver’s side? And was he always barefoot, or did his shoe fall off a mile back?
Here’s a little how-to for your costume-construction needs. Follow these steps and you, too, can have a prize-winning costume with little effort on your part! [Warning: Results may vary for spouses.]
Step 1: Receive a text from Beloved Neighbor about a Halloween event in your town, which includes a costume contest at a brewery.
Step 2: Tell Hubby, I want this* costume. You have a week. Get moving.
*Rather than tell you what the costume is, I’ll show you pieces and see if you can figure it out.
Step 3: Lounge at home while Hubby makes multiple trips to Lowe’s. Upon his return, increase your music volume to drown out the obtrusive sounds of him sawing in the garage. (So rude.)
Step 4: With a few clicks, order his accompanying costume on Amazon. Dab the sweat from your brow after heroically completing this arduous task.
Sensei keeps giving me zucchini from his garden. I’m out of oranges in exchange, so I have to dig into my chocolate stash to make up for it. (I think that’s all part of his diabolical plan.)
Several weeks ago, Neighbor texted several of us in the ‘hood, yo!
First of all, remember Snowball Man, whom I ran into another night The Band played? We exchanged emails, so I was able to invite him to BBBB. (This time, Betsy’s Birthday Band Bash. Keep up.) He wrote back:
You just made my day! Will make sure that day is clear and will wear body amour. I tore the muscle in my throwing arm unloading a 300 lb tub so I’ll have to throw left handed……………which should make it fair this time.
Then three days before the big night, he wrote:
I got rescheduled to work Saturday. Was going to go shopping all day for your present but now I’ll have to rush into Pic and Save and hope something is left on the blue light special table. Hopefully I’ll get there while there are still some tables (within throwing distance). Don’t want to miss you……….. with a snowball of course.
And he really did get me a gift. I was surprised and impressed.
Then I saw the envelope:
My name in crosshairs. Clever. Two pairs of snowball slingshots! VERY clever. Sadly, I didn’t open this until the end of the night.
This is what I get for not keeping up with Swinged Cat‘s posts. Turns out, I read several days later, my birthday coincided with the 30th anniversary of the release of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” When the band came the first time and played that song, Neighbor and I spontaneously combusted in unison even though no one else was dancing. I told her this time we needed to up our game by dancing on a table. Even *I* thought that was crazy, but she was up for it!
This might be one of those situations were my neighbor is secretly a spy or a superhero, like I won’t know until I accidentally see her take off her mask when she thinks no one is watching after she’s just saved someone from a mugging.
Anyway, back to the song, it wasn’t played. 😦 After she left, another friend asked me to request “500 Miles.” So, between songs, I walked up to the singer and said, “I’ve been requested to ask if you’d play ‘500 Miles.'” They made that the very next song. Apparently I had some pull. Why, oh why, did I not just ASK them to play “Smells Like Teen Spirit”? Again, IF I had read M’s post, I would’ve asked them to play it in honor of the anniversary. Missed opportunity! Next time, I suppose, unless, now having read this, Hubby says to me, “Uh, no, honey. No dancing on tables.” Drat!
Remember the Betsy tattoos? Here’s a slideshow of my neighbor applying one to Hubby’s fun-loving Colombian coworker.
I may have pulled off an excellent prank. But I’ll likely never know.
Neighbor asked what I wanted to do for my birthday. I suggested we get coffee and do our usual shopping trips. She responded “YES! and YES!” That alone wins her the title of my favorite person ever. Actually, just asking what I wanted to do on my birthday was enough. But it got even better.
We first arranged to go to brunch with another friend. Neighbor picked me up, which is sort of funny, since we’re two houses apart, but then I saw the side of her car.
Indoor skydiving, that is. Not quite as cool as the real thing, but still fun.
Anyhow, I had a hair tie in, but somewhere along the way, it was sucked up into the giant suctioning fan, never to be seen again.
When I got home, my kids said, “Mom, what happened to your hair?”
That bad.
I spent 15 minutes trying to work out the snarls with my fingers because my brush was utterly useless. In that time, I untangled maybe a third of it. Then I remembered that conditioner exists, so I hopped in the shower, feeling sure there was a bottle in there somewhere.
There was not.
I texted my friend two houses down with a desperate plea for conditioner. She didn’t respond until much later. She’d gone for a walk without her phone, and had wished she could text me because she’d left her oven on. I showed her my hair. She showed me her food.
This used to be peppers.
Fortunately, her house didn’t fill with smoke, but it did smell, she reported.
Her veggies were ruined, and I was seriously considering chopping my hair, or at least portions of it, way short. She recooked, and I spent the entirety of a Doc Martin episode (Have you seen this show? You must.) straightening my hair out with my fingers.
But it was all worth it because this:
Hair tie halfway out.
And this:
We spun around and around to the top of the tower and back down multiple times in rapid succession. It was a blast!
She responded that she wasn’t home, but would be in half an hour. However, if I needed sugar right away, she’d tell me where she hides the key.
I texted back, “Please tell me where you hide the key. And the good chocolate.”
Believe it or not, she told me both, but I didn’t dare raid her cocoa stash. A woman’s chocolate is sacred. But the fact that she was willing to let me partake, in addition to entering her home while she was gone… truly an amazing neighbor.
Questions for you to ponder/comment on:
What’s worse: hair that takes an hour to untangle, or burnt peppers?
Have you been skydiving–indoor or otherwise? If not, would you want to?
Motherhood and Martial Arts 