The Other Toaster

I feel a little dirty. Like, perhaps, I shouldn't be telling you this. My husband brought home a newer, younger toaster.

He's often talked about bringing a newer model into our home - for years, in fact. I was the one who resisted. I've been faithful to one toaster for so long, the idea of trying something new - especially with the old toaster watching - feels more than awkward. It feels plain wrong.

My toaster and I go back nearly 50 years together. You don't just toss that aside like it didn't matter. Like it wasn't significant. My faithful toaster still resides in its usual space, underneath the counter. I've not displaced it. Meanwhile, the Other Toaster still sits, unopened, untouched in its box on the counter. I can hardly bear to look at it, much less toast with it.

And even though I haven't made a single move towards the new toaster, the old one protests by making toast even less appealing than before. It's never in the mood, it seems, to get hot on both sides of the bread. I have to stop and start and constantly readjust just to get a little toast. Is that too much to ask? I don't ask often. Maybe once a week, if that. But still, it takes coaxing.

My husband has been patient. He's waiting for us to get acquainted before he starts toasting on his own or we start toasting together.

I'm not willing to give up toast. I like toast. I'm even willing to try new things. But a new toaster? I hope my husband knows how much I love him just to even consider it.

Shelter

From Drop Box

Taken with my HTC EVO.

Hang It

The only trouble with getting caught up on laundry is I run out of hangers. Ideally, I would have some laundry in the hamper awaiting the wash cycle or some in the dryer waiting to be folded. Or, both. There's some exact formula which maximizes hanger usage and minimizes actual work to be done. Such as wearing whatever just came out of the dryer rather than putting it away. Or putting the same sheets on the bed (after washing, of course) so you don't have to wrestle folding a fitted sheet.

The dishwasher holds a similar property. The best time to unload one is just before dinner. Set the table from whatever's in the dishwasher and you don't have to put it away (which is the whole argument for having two dishwashers - one for dirty, one for clean).

Here's my cleaning tip for the day: don't. You can't tell how dirty your house is until you start cleaning it. And if you can't tell it's dirty, why start?

So there you go.

Something About Turnips

The blood bank parked their mobile unit in our parking lot today. You could pay your taxes and bleed all at the same time.

I'l have to talk to the marketing team about putting our logo on the bus.

Warning

This office is chronically low on chocolate. Until supplies are restored, you can just forget about getting your tax return prepared.

Declaration

LET IT BE KNOWN that folding fitted sheets is NOT a form of witchcraft.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

The Weather Beat | After more than two weeks: one dry day | Seattle Times Newspaper

Lamentations of the Father

Lists

I make lists so as not to forget things.

I keep forgetting to look at my list.

It's a Book, 29 Words....

Moby-Duck: The True Story of 28,800 Bath Toys Lost at Sea and of the Beachcombers, Oceanographers, Environmentalists, and Fools, Including the Author, Who Went i...

The title is so long it doesn't fit on Amazon's site.

Dude, you're seriously going to want to be on my charades team this year.

Announcing the PlayWrite Gaming Tablet

Aside from being the thinnest, lightest, and most energy efficient tablet device available today, the PlayWrite has the capability to run an unlimited number of games on its revolutionary operating system.

Learn more here.

100

Goals are wonderful things. Or terrible. I guess it depends on where you're at. They can be daunting or trivial. But they're always excusable. It's easier to delay what can be done today until tomorrow. Always.

But the sense of accomplishment when one reaches one's goal is just that. A sense of accomplishment. Something to be proud of. Even better when one reached the same goal yesterday and the day before. The goal morphs and it becomes about the streak, the number of days one can string together more than the goal itself.

There is always adversity. Each and every day. It doesn't matter the goal, there are forces determined to get in the way, temptations to distract. Some distractions are good and worthy things in themselves, but distractions nonetheless.

Congratulations, if you have a goal and have found the fortitude to meet it. Good for you.

(Btw, my goal is to walk every day. Today is day 100. Haven't missed a day yet and it feels good.)

Planning for Future Emergencies

(Note the date sequence.)

http://www.seattlepi.com/lifestyle/

Report: Sex can stop a heart, so have more sex (CBS)

Problem: Sex can literally break your heart.

Solution: More sex.

The Gun lobby's solution to gun violence: Pack more heat

What Where They Thinking?

More here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/wsdot/5550079867/in/set-72157626326720170/

and

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2014564465_boat22m.html

Tooth Decay

Have you ever had a case of gingivitis? Let me tell you, it makes menopause look like a cakewalk. I woke up Friday morning with a swollen gum between two teeth. I thought maybe something was stuck in there. Saturday it was more irritated and my gums were now swollen in front and in back of a tooth. I wasn't too worried about it. It didn't hurt and I figured whatever was irritating my tooth would eventually work itself out.

Sunday morning I woke up in a sweat. If you are female and around my age, this is not an uncommon occurrence. My temp was 99 but the glands in my throat were swollen. I took some Advil, took the day off work (like I have time for this) and spent most of the day in bed. I was feeling better by late afternoon and figured it was better to take care of myself than crank out a couple more tax returns.

Monday, temperature was 102, throat glands very painful. Again, the Advil did a good job of managing everything but I called my dentist. Something was most definitely going on.

Gingivitis? Are you kidding me? I don't know how this happened but I did share a toothbrush with my grandson last week. Probably a mistake in more ways than one. I read online that gingivitis often occurs in puberty during hormonal changes. Damn, this getting older! I'm definitely experiencing hormonal changes.

Because of menopause, I'm thinking, I got something that's worse. Night sweats galore! Temp is 101 this morning. Throat is sore, it's hard to eat anything that isn't soft. Good news, Advil and a stronger-than-Listerine rinse is providing relief. Other than that, I'm trying to let this virus run its course. No need to see my doctor unless the fever doesn't start to abate soon.

Oral hygiene wasn't the problem. I've always gotten glowing reports every six months from my dentist. But it's a problem now. My gums are very sensitive to brushing and flossing is nearly out of the question.

I'll be happy when this goes away, glad to have menopause as my only affliction. This is nonsense.

P.S. To add insult to injury, I also have bad breath. (That's the injury.) The worst of it is I don't know I have bad breath. (That's the insult.) Someone had to tell me. I can't taste it or smell it. I'll try to avoid close contact but if I notice you backing away, don't worry about it. I know.

Just Another Day

It’s tax season here. Well, everywhere I suppose. I live at the office now and eat two-thirds of my meals here. I’m deprived of sleep but have an ample supply of coffee. The only way I can tell that one day has become the next is that my clothes have changed. I'm thinking about hanging a sign in my window that reads HELP! NEED LATTE!

The IRS has ruined another weekend, I might add. It's bad enough that I work weekends as it is, but to tack another one on for good measure is just rude. April 15th is a Friday so what's wrong with just getting it over with? The 15th is a holiday in DC - that's why - so while they get a day off, I'm at work. And the next day, and the next day, and the day after that, ruining yet another weekend.

Here's the catch for the procrastinators who owe. Your taxes are really still due on the 15th. Bet they didn't tell you that, did they? When the 15th falls on a weekend or a holiday (as it does this year), it is considered timely filed on the next business day (this year, the 18th). If your return isn't postmarked by then, penalties and interest go back to the due date of April 15th.

I'm thinking about changing the sign in my window to read HELP! NEED CHOCOLATE!

Since You Asked

Okay, nobody really asked but here it is anyway.



Note my place card. A loyal reader. (Thank you, Sandy!)

Prom Date

We went to the prom last night (the annual Commodore's Ball at Rainier Yacht Club). Got my hair done (which involved exactly thirty-eight bobby pins and industrial grade, anti-gravitational hair spray). Got my makeup done. (My washcloth revealed similar industrial strength products were used.) Bought a new gown. (It was beautiful.) Took two days to get ready. Meanwhile, Handsome put on his tux and was ready in about five minutes.

We had a wonderful time. I only attend one ball per year and it's magical. The commodores of each yacht club attend a total of fourteen each year. I can't imagine it's as magical for them.

In some ways, it's a silly, over-the-top affair. Middle-aged people, all dressed up, dancing the night away to music older than the DJ, music they know the words to, the women dancing with each other on the fast songs, the men joining in on the slow ones. Lights turned low, disco ball shimmering.

It's true, there are more important, more worthy things to worry about and spend time, energy, and money on. But for one night, it's nice to dress up and celebrate. Celebrate with the people you care about, enjoy each other's company, and take a time out from daily woes. Transformation, for just one night. That's what makes it special. And worthy.

And now that Cinderella is home, her face scrubbed, hair combed out, wearing her regular old clothes, it's time to contemplate real life again. Back to work. Laundry, dishes, toilets. Grocery lists and a few hours at the office. But it's worth it, for that one night to dress up as a princess and dance the night away with a prince.

I have some very lovely pictures. From prom, and other adventures, and I know I've been slow to post. I might have some time to get caught up later this week. I'll try to get some prom pictures up this evening. (The roast is already in the crock pot so I might have a little time right after the ironing.)

Cinderella, out.