Plate Techtonics

Friends and Kitties!

Sheebie here.

So...I'm assuming that you are are all passably acquainted with the idea of plate techtonics; the shifting of the Earth's crust, forming various, ever-changing land masses.  Sometimes the crust gets a little thin or weak and a volcano erupts over the hot spot...like my spectacular barf-o-rama earlier this week.

Well, the crust shifted.

The norovirus hot spot found a new crevasse.

Scott has it now.

The "good" part is that he was more of a shield volcano--gradually (yet relentlessly) depositing magma at the surface, layer by layer--rather than the furious explosive ones I chose to emulate, which helped minimize the collateral damage to life and property...

 I took another day off work to be at his beck and call keep an eye out in case things went downhill like they did for me but Scott's G.I system's a trooper and as of writing this he's up and even feeling a little peckish.  I admit the extra day off did me no harm; I took it easy on myself the whole day and feel all the better for it.  Hopefully we're both done!

What a week.

Here's to a better one...

Happy Sunday!

XX  Sheebie  XX

Sunday with Sheebie

Friends and Kitties!

Sheebie here.

So, I and my coworkers are surviving the new computer interface installation at work.  Truthfully, there's no real big differences--a couple bad but mostly good--and one of the nicer features are the more descriptive alarms that pop up in the alarm queue.

My absolute favorite one so far is this:

Dose this not read "Whalem System Disabled" to you, or am I just crazypants?

I almost want to do naughty stuff at work just to see this alarm!

***

So, a few months ago I weaned myself off of Effexor, an antidepressant that had nasty side effects if I missed just one stupid dose, started Prozac, and attempted subsequently to wean myself off of that.  Well, it didn't go so good...but fortunately I recognized the signs of the imminent dark clouds before it got too bad and started back up on my medicine.  It was kinda hairy for a few weeks before it kicked in but I'm pleased to report I'm feeling much more like myself these days, and since Prozac has a very long half-life if I miss a pill I'm not sweating and shaking and wishing to die.  (Working shifts it's easy to forget to take my meds at the correct time.)

Scott was scheduled to have cortisone shots in his lumbar spine for his sciatica next week, but his regimen of yoga and bike riding has been so effective he called and canceled the procedure!  Plus, his A1C number went down 3 points, and for the first time in years his cholesterol numbers are good.  Since we moved here to Las Vegas he's lost over one hundred pounds--I saw a photo of him from 1999 and was floored--he's half the man he used to be.  He does more yoga than I do!  Speaking of which, last Wednesday I did my first back-bend in probably 40 years...felt pretty dang good.  So does my knee--it's been eleven months since I busted my knee cap--and aside from some tightness in the ligaments it's back to what it used to be.

Our Nekkid Kats seem to be enjoying their noodity immensely.  Sweet Pea was initially a wee tad freaked out but once she realized her haircut made for a more efficient scratch-to-skin ratio she's been quite happy and soliciting rubbins at every opportunity.  KonaKitty, being so old and skinny has been on the chilly side (it's only in the 80's outside) but she has her heated cat cup and of course, cuddling to keep her warm.  It's got to be a relief to be rid of all the matted fur on her flanks, and soon it'll be past the century mark on the thermometer and she'll snooze her days away out on the Catio, baking.  Maui and John are dense as bricks oblivious to their furless state!  Typical mencats...

I will email out a schedule for Catio tours this week for those of you who requested one, and it looks like the meet-n-greet with GJ's Mum and Dad will be Friday evening by the upper pool at the Westin hotel...exact time TBA.  Carol and I had a wonderful hour-long chat last Sunday (thank you T-mobile for the free call) and she is the most fun and animated person...I can't wait to meet up in person, as well as all the other bloggers!  I promise to take lots of photos and maybe some videos, too.

We have another week from hell coming up at home with the majority of the inside of the house being in an uproar from the painters.  I chose a slightly different wall color from the warm browns to a grayer putty shade, and we're going all one color in the great room/kitchen, for now.  I want to do something with the kitchen cabinets this summer (paint, reface?) and then I might do the half wall and pot shelf in an accent color.  We'll see.  The best part is when this week is over I have three weeks vacation coming up!  I'm looking forward to it very much.

I've slowly been getting around to visiting most of you this weekend, but if you don't see the Katnip Lounge in the comments please don't be sad...we're still reading!

Happy Sunday!

XX  Sheebie  XX

The State of the Sheeb

Friends and Kitties!

Sheebie here.

Time for a happy Tale of Woe!

 After four months, I've finally weaned myself off of the antidepressant Effexor, which is one of the toughest ones to stop, and it was pretty serendipitous how it shook down.  In September Scott went to Pain Management for his shoulder issues (a total fiasco; the doc was the most arrogant POS I've ever met) which resulted in a revisit to his Primary Care Physician for a re-up for his usual (and effective) pain meds.  At that consult the doctor did not want to write a scrip for the same-old same-old and instead prescribed something new...something Scott wasn't adverse to, he's always open to seeing if something is more effective for his chronic pain.  However, after doing some research I discovered that one of the new prescriptions was contraindicated with a psych med that he takes.  He elected to ramp down off the Prozac and try the painkiller (tramadol)--they are both SSRI's so it was a safe substitution; just not good to take both concurrently.  (btw--we've switched PCP's--I take umbrage with medical stupidity)  So.  Scott had extra Prozac and I wanted to quit taking Effexor--it was time.  

Let me digress.  I started taking the Effexor ten years ago at a low dose for depression and also for the nice side effect that it can reduce hot flashes, something I'd been having since my late 30's.  No problem; I felt good mentally and the hot flashes did mitigate.  A few years later I had some major mental stressors and had my dose raised which helped me tremendously at the time...but venlafaxine (generic) has an extremely short half-life and if you're on a higher dose and don't take it on a rigid schedule you are screwed--dry mouth, shakiness, blurred vision, and, worse of all, the sensation of electric jolts in the brain.  Not just unpleasant, you truly can't function until you get some more in your system.  Nice, right?  Just like a junkie.  The trick to quitting is to start taking something with a nice long half-life, like Prozac, for about a month--which I did--and then sloooowly cut back on the venlafaxine, along with large amounts of fish oil.  I was taking 75 mg twice daily so the first round (two weeks) I only took half my evening dose so I would sleep through the worst of the side effects, and even that was pretty horrendous.  But it got worse...I cut the morning dose back the second two weeks and I thought I was gonna die, the brain zaps were that terrible. Fortunately I timed it so I was on vacation and I didn't have to go to work because I would have made mistakes, my concentration was so poor.  I was feeling better after a week but I decided to hold steady for a month before I cut the evening dose in half again and this one was easier, so I reduced the morning dose by half in another two weeks and the side effects for that go-round were much more bearable too, I was just really irritable and sensitive to noise, etc.  (Almost like my usual crankiness!)

I eventually got it licked, and I'm happy to report that I'm now Effexor-free, for the first time in years.  I'm taking Scott's Prozac (for now) and I'm going to wean off that as well, over the next couple months, to see how well I do without any anti-depressants.  Don't worry--if I start feeling squirrely I have absolutely no qualms whatsoever about starting back up again--I've been down that rabbit hole before and don't intend on visiting it again, ever.  But right now I'm in a really good place mentally, and my OB/GYN started me on an estrogen replacement patch three weeks ago (which should also act as a "boost") so I'm curious; how will I feel, "plain"?  

They say it's an ill wind that doesn't blow some good, and that's what I view Scott's crappy visit to Pain Management as--the storm that allowed me to get out from under my addiction.  Because that's what it was, albeit medically enabled sanctioned.

And Scott?  The new meds didn't help significantly so he's back to the same one he was taking before all this hoohah, and they work just fine.  Funny how life goes, sometimes.

Happy Sunday!

XX  Sheebie  XX

Sheebie Sees Some Sights

Friends and Kitties!

Sheebie here.

I was going through my phone photos and I picked out a few good* ones to show you.

This was taken along a part of the wash that is currently being revegetated.  I decided to ride the gravel road instead of the bike trail for a new perspective.  The pipes on the banks are for reclaimed water irrigation, and the foliage are all native plants.  You can see the dams in the background slowing the water down, allowing a series of ponds to form. The bird in the pond nearest me is a Great Blue Heron--I saw (I think) seven of them!  Imagine, waterbirds in the Mojave Desert--there is a truly diverse biome here in the Las Vegas valley.

(The building in the far background is Sam Boyd Stadium.)

Scott and I were out and about and he realized he had on two different shoes!

Stylin'.

See the bumps and scrapes on his shins?  He's as bad as a six-year-old.

A nest in a cholla cactus at work.  It didn't have any feathers or poop in it so it was likely just a practice nest.

This was taken in late July, during Monsoon season, again at work.  It was pouring in the Spring Mountains forty miles off and sunny in Henderson.  

I love the vistas out here.

Driving home the other afternoon I saw a lady out walking with her miniature pony!  Of course I pulled over to talk and get a couple pictures.  His name was Buddy, and he was the friendliest little soul--walked right up to the car window and peered in--he had to snuffle me, and nibble my fingers, too!  The crew had a field day sniffing the horse spit on my hands when I got home.  

There's more, but I'll save those for another day...The next couple of weeks for me are going to be exciting, yet strange, what with my schedule changing.  My intentions are to keep up a regular posting schedule--everything else is up for grabs, though!  No promises.  I can't wait to awaken naturally, without the effing alarm clock.  Two more days.  wheeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

Happy Sunday--Have a Great Week!

XX  Sheebie  XX

*good, as in interesting, not visual masterpieces.

Merchandising Monday!

Kitties!

Sheebie here.

My husband loves tie dye.  I mean, he REALLY loves it.  Buying shirts was gonna put us in the poor house, so he started dying his own, and one thing led to another, and now he's started another business, selling his work.  I'd post a bunch of photos, but I'd rather you pop over to his new Etsy store and look at his creations there!

Go on, I'll wait...

Tie Dyed Hippy Wear

You're back?

What didja think?  Cool, huh?  

Did you see that he names each shirt?  Just like art!  What a nut.

He has at least a hundred more items to list, and he does custom work as well, so please "follow" us and check back!  As I'm typing this he's creating tote bags, scarves, and aprons...and they look fabulous.

  

Now, I must eat some humble pie.  I, the Tech Queen of the Lounge, was unable to link a FB page to our store.  Sad but true.  So that link will be a few days in coming...should I add Twitter and Pinterest, too?  Anything else?  We're open for suggestions.

And I think I *may* have mentioned a contest yesterday...here's the scoop:  leave a comment (by midnight PST 4/24/13) and tell us which store item really caught your eye--and I'll do a random drawing for a Mystery Prize!  One comment per blog, and we ship internationally so everyone can participate.

Happy Monday, and Thanks for Looking!

(and maybe buying, fingers crossed)

XX  Sheebie  XX

Sunday with Sheebie!

Friends and Kitties!

It's been quiet yet busy around here, and due to a) a lack of any cohesive story line, b) snappy segues, and c) laziness, I'm gonna post a list.

1.  I started yoga classes to help stretch out my back and I think it's helping.  The class is very low key, all adults, and lots of fun.  What's nice is we all get a printed sheet (homework!) of what to practice during the week which helps jog my memory--I find it hard to remember poses when I'm busy clearing my mind.

d.  I did two nice bike rides last week.  I had a wee tad of trouble on one hill but pulling over and puking took care of it.  Next time I'll gear down sooner and chug less water all at once!  Spring has sprung here in Las Vegas with highs in the 80's and lows in the upper 50's at night.  It's just glorious outdoors, except for my allergies.  I'm allergic to pine and olive tree pollen and they're blooming like gangbusters right now.  Thank goodness all I get are itchy red eyes and not the sneezy chesty type reaction; a few eye drops and I'm good to go.

Z.  Both my immediate supervisor and manager got promotions, so I'll be getting a new boss.  I have a couple of candidates in mind and have been prodding encouraging them to apply.  I qualify for the job, and I'd be good at it except for the fact that I'm so non-politically correct that I'd be down in Human Resources within the first 25 minutes of acceptance.  I have a hard time with stupidity and there's a couple of dead weights around here that--well--let's just say I've volunteered to dispose of the bodies.  

There's one individual in particular I'd be more than happy to work for so I wish them the best of luck.

7.  Our tomato plants have blossoms!  Scott put in several varieties of cherry tomatoes for us to try this year.  It gets too hot too soon to do the big ones, they split.  He has to spray some sort of magical sexy blossom elixir on the flowers in order for them to bear fruit as there aren't any natural tomato plant pollinators out this early.  There are plenty of bees but apparently tomato blossoms are stinky and they don't like 'em; instead they're all in the arborvitae partying drinking the sap off the stems.

@.  The kale is doing well, too.  As is the catnip!

14.  Sparkle's Human and Quill's Mom came over for an afternoon last weekend, and we had a wonderful confab together, talking cat-talk and a thousand other subjects.  The Horde (sans Scouty and CC) was very gracious and welcoming, with Tarty Salem whaling about for a good hour on the dining room table much to everybody's enjoyment.  Especially hers--what a ham.  

A large ham.

5.  The Park Across the Street is coming along nicely.  Joining the Horned Toads is a new giant animal (shrouded by a tarp, dammit) which is some sort of lizard, the bocce ball court is about done, and the curb for the horse corral was poured last week.  Nothing that photos would do justice to, but the whole complex is really starting to take shape.

q.  I've been making bread at home in my new Kitchen Aid Mixer, and I swear I'll never buy bread again.  Home-baked is just so freakin' good!  I bake on Wednesdays and Scott and I have bread-n-butter, fruit, and cheese for dinner.  Delicious.  I've used my mixer for several batches of quick breads and to shred cabbage for cole slaw and smush up apples for applesauce and boy was that ever easy--I have decent knife skillz but nothing near as fast as those slicer blades.

elebenty.  Scott has a new hobby, he's taken up tie dying and so far his shirts are Far Out, Man!  As soon as he gets confident enough to make shirts to order he will be setting up a store, he enjoys it that much.  I think it's great--he is so creative with color.  It just goes to show that being red-green color blind doesn't prevent you from using the full palette.  I often wonder just how he visually perceives things.  Photos of his work to come...

So, that about wraps it up...have you done anything new and interesting lately?

Tell me in the comments!

Happy Sunday and Have a FUN Week!

XX  Sheebie  XX

Sheebie's Giftmas

Friends and Kitties!

Sheebie here.

Buying a gift for Scott is nearly an impossible feat.  A) he never knows what he'd like, and B) as soon as he figures it out he buys it himself.  Occasionally I'll get lucky and present him with a tin of kipper snacks or a tube of lip balm the lack of which he was unaware, but for the most part I steer clear of the gifting quagmire.  Myself, on the other hand, am an easy recipient.  I like everything.  There are very few things I've received from Scott in all the years we've been married that I consider to be "dud" gifts.  (And I will never, on pain of death, reveal which ones they are so don't bother asking.)  It sounds sort of one-sided but for us, it works.

I should state that we don't celebrate any traditional holidays at our house.  We did away with Christmas in 1997--long story involving a trip to Mexico--Scott hates birthday fuss, I detest "lovey" days, and our families live conveniently far enough away to prevent easy get-togethers.  Additionally, I work most holidays (at double-time-and-a-half) by choice.  We do take note of my birthday, mainly because I parade around for weeks crowing things like "next week is my birthday", "it's my birthday" and "do you know what today is?  It's the day after the day after my birthday!"  Scott is an intelligent man, and reacts appropriately to maintain marital harmony.

And some of his best gifts cost nothing except his dignity.

Friday I was at work with my swollen up cat-bitten hand and feeling pretty miserable.  I would have taken time off except it's the holidays and I just didn't feel right about sticking my co-workers with an extra shift, so I'm grousing through the day, having a craptacular solo pity party when I get an email from Scott, who had just set up our indoor bike-riding doohickey* and sent me some photos:

I almost wet my pants laughing.

Of course I immediately called him, and he said that besides putting together the riding thingummy he'd also done all  my house chores and he'd make dinner (pizza!) too.  Well.  My day got a lot better despite my lame hand, and I slogged through the remainder of work in a vastly improved frame of mind--and when I got home I saw that Scott had been harvesting the lemon tree and picked a few dozen more for me--he knew I wouldn't be able to snip them off for a few days.  I've been slicing and dehydrating them a dozen at a time for my tea, and he knows that I want to get them done while they're at their peak.  But that wasn't the real gift.

This was: 

How about these melons...er...lemons?

Pin-up cheesecake!

Naughty or Nice?

Scott sometimes drives me crazy, but where else in the world would I find a man who puts lemons in his shirt just to make me laugh?   Furthermore, how do you go about screening a possible mate for that sort of thing? I don't suppose internet dating services ask you about your fruit placement preferences, or maybe they do, depending on the site.  Anyway, that's besides the point.  My point is that all of us, just by our very existence, are a gift, to somebody.  As you are all to me, reading my ramblings--my present to you.  I wish you all a Very Happy Whatever, Whenever.

Happy Sunday, and Have a Laugh This Week!

XX  Sheebie  XX

*This came up on spellcheck!  I only had one "O" in there.  Who knew?

pee ess:  The hand is doing much better!

In Which Sheebie Needs BBQ Sauce for Some Ribs

Friends and Kitties!

If there's one word that describes both Scott and I, it's clumsy.  (I know, you were probably picturing something else.)  I can (and do) hit my head on everything imaginable, and Scott is forever whacking some body part or another up against immovable objects, in fact no more than two months ago he almost succeeded in amputating both little toes within two days--no mean feat.  He's an accident waiting to happen in the making, so when he told me the other night that he was going out for a quick ride around the block on his bike to test something out I should have given it a little more consideration and said 'Honey, it's dark outside' instead of blithely waving him out the door, because what he actually ended up testing was the tensile strength limit of the ribs on his left side.

I suppose he'd have done better if he had stuck to the pavement where there's street lights, but a quick spin around the park across the road, with zero illumination and all the rocks and gravel was clearly the more adventurous choice.

So there I am, scootled up on the sofa with a blanky and some cats, when Scott comes in from the garage with a pained yet sheepish expression on his face:

Me:  How was your ride?

Scott:  Not so good.

Me:  What happened?

Scott (hesitating, because he knows he did something stupid and I love to point out the obvious):  I fell.

Me:  Shit!  Are you hurt?  Let me see...

Scott:  ow ow ow owwwww!

Already there was a HUGE bruise blossoming on his rib cage (which broke his fall) and a good-sized lump on his shin from where the pedal hit him.  I packed him up with ice, ibuprofen and codeine--it wasn't worth a trip to the emergency room, cos what are they going to do any differently?  Living with Scott I've got first aid down to a science--I cannot tell you how many times I've had to do the "does this need stitches?" assessment.

My poor husband made it through the night, albeit uncomfortably, and noisily endured for the next couple of days.  His shin was fine, but the pain in his ribs wasn't abating.  I, as a graduate (Summa Cum Laude) from the School of Silent Suffering was less than sympathetic--I told him that bruises take a while to heal, to take his pills, and for cripe's sake quit making all those little whimpery noises every time he breathed.  (He detests being "mothered" so no soppy crap from me.)  Apparently I didn't hit quite the right note on the sympathy scale because on the third day after the Nighttime Cycling Incident he took himself off to the Urgent Care where they X-rayed him, and sure enough, ribs number 8 and 9 had hairline fractures, and the physician said breaks take a while to heal, and keep taking his pills.  

*headdesk*

  Of course just knowing what exactly was wrong helped him immensely--and by golly he's been milking this one for all it's worth.  I really can't fault him though, I imagine it must hurt like the dickens and he did admit that he's a total wimp when it comes to pain.  But I do want him to heal up as quickly as possible because I've been doubly busy at home, doing the chores that normally Scott would do, which is virtually all the housework and with 13 cats there's a ton of it--vacuuming daily, scooping, sweeping, mopping, dusting.  It's a lot!  I am enjoying myself immensely by making him laugh though--he goes 'ha ha OW ha haOWWW don't make me laugh!"
 It's fun.

It's been over a week now and he's getting better.  The irritating moans and groans are gone, and I estimate that soon he'll be healed, hale and hearty, all ready for the next Incident.  

There's a garden rake in the garage that looks particularly menacing...

Happy Sunday, and have a Safe Week!

XX  Sheebie  XX

In Which Sheebie does not Act her Age.

Friends and Kitties!

At our house Scott is the Landscape Guru and I am the Instigator of Low Humor; occasionally these two things converge.  Last Friday Scott had a ton of pond rock delivered for top dressing in our entryway.  He called me at work when he was done:

Scott:  Hey.

Me:  HEY!

Scott:  So, I'm done with my rock project.

Me:  Already? You don't mess around when you play with your rocks.

*guffaw*

Me:  So, how big are your rocks?  

Scott:  My rocks are all different sizes, and they're so heavy I need to use the wheelbarrow to move them!

Me:  Don't trip on your rocks!

Scott:  I won't.  Don't panic Sheeb, but some of my rocks are broken.

*laughter*

And later, when I got home:

Scott:  Come admire my rocks.  

Feel free to tread upon them.

Me:  Your rocks are multicolored!

They look great.

Scott:  They're a little dull right now, my rocks look better when they're wet.

*snort*

The project does look nice--since the entryway faces East and doesn't get much sun anything we* put in there gets spindly after a year or two.  Scott moved the plumbago out of the archway planters (it didn't take) and put star jasmine in to grow up over the archway, and it's growing like crazy.  We'd like a couple of big pottery pieces for accents, but we're still thinking about what--and it'll have to meet with Puffy Cat's approval.

A close up of Scott's hefty rocks

The newly remodeled entryway

Big things are happening with the park across the street!

More on that next Sunday...I promise.

Happy Sunday and have a Fun Week!

XX  Sheebie  XX

* That's a metaphorical "we".

Wherein Sheebie Rambles.

Friends and Kitties!

 I bought myself new flannel sheets!

Two sets, one is lilac with hootie owls, and the second is...wait for it...

Yes!  CUPCAKES!!!!

Totally calorie free.

And on sale.

The cats love 'em, and so do I.  It just about killed me to leave my snug sheets and get up Saturday morning at 05:30 and return to the Salt Mines.  Yup, my vacation is over. 

*sob*

For the many of you who wondered about the dessert I ate at Mom and Dad's house--it was angel food cake covered in non-dairy whipped topping, with fresh raspberries and Trader Joe's fat-free fudge sauce.  SO delicious.  My folks never fail to spoil me culinarily rotten when I visit them, and this trip was no exception.  Thank goodness they keep me on my toes, doing stuff, or they'd have to roll me onto the plane for the return flight.  Their kitty Shadow is so friendly, she slept tight against me the first night but bugged out as soon as I paid her any attention.  Typical feline.  It's been a while since I've had a chance to play with a young cat for an extended period of time and we had tons of fun; she's a goof, stalking Monsters and leaping in the air at Fairies.  My folks are completely enslaved, which cracks me up...I kept telling them "times this by thirteen!"  

In other news, Scott was interviewed (with a few other wonderful Cat Daddies) on being be a Cat Guy!

He's a great Cat Dad and there would be no way on earth that we could care for so may cats without him working from home and catering to their every whim tending to them during the day.  I take the evening shift, with playing, grooming, and treats.  They have preferences for me or him--Salem keeps company with Scott when he's in his office (desk pestering) but enjoys morning time (combing and general fussing) in the bathroom with me.  Felix is Daddy's boy entirely.  Sure, he'll accept rubbins and luvvins from me, but Daddy is the One.  Rupert is my big Gray Man.  And so it goes.

The weather here has been beautiful, perfect for lazing around on the Catio, reading.  I'm deep into the second book The Twelve of Justin Cronin's "The Passage" trilogy, for the second time actually.  I blazed through it the first time in two days just to see how it turned out, and now I'm rereading it, purely to immerse myself in the story.  I am eagerly awaiting November 13th which is when Joe Abercrombie's new book Red Country will be released in the US.  Don't expect to find me doing anything else but reading that day, snuggled up in my snazzy new sheets.

Happy Sunday, and have a GREAT week!

XX  Sheebie  XX

Sunday with Sheebie

Friends and Kitties!

What a weekend.  I was happy to get back to work on Friday so I could rest.  The Cats may have whined mentioned that I starved them made an Executive Feeding Decision--amongst other sundry injustices last Tuesday.  Of course they never tell my side of the story!  (And why should they, they're cats, after all...)  Here's my excuse for their Terrible Neglect.


Monday evening I did laundry, paid bills, and some general house-wifely titivating.  I put out extra Stinky Goodness to ensure full feline tummies and thus a nice lie in in the morning.  I was all set for my weekend (Tues & Weds), two days of utter and complete slothitude.

I got up Tuesday morning a little after seven, made toast and coffee, and flaked out on the Catio.  I read for a bit.  Played with The Horde.  Assessed the cat food situation (plenty).  Scott had an appointment so the house was all mine.  About tenish I got up to put the cinnamon pita chips away in the larder, but discovered there wasn't any room on the lower shelves, where stuff tends to migrate because I'm so short.  No problem; we keep a little ladder in the garage.  I innocently ambled out there to get it, and that's the exact moment where everything went horribly wrong.  Because the ladder was entombed in drifts of detritus from projects past.

Scott is a great guy--he's handy and can do all sorts of home repair, gardening, you name it, but the one thing he's incapable of is picking up after himself, whether it's clothes, tools, the salt shaker, or anything, really.  Granted, he can (and does, quite well) clean, but tidying is beyond his skill set; and, after 19 years together I don't entertain any fantasies that one morning he'll awaken with the Urge to Organize.  In fact, I'd be Deeply Suspicious if all of a sudden he started--for example--putting the shaving cream in the basket which has been so thoughtfully provided for him.  Right next to the sink.  Mere inches away.  With all his other kit.  When we were newlyweds I threatened to build a  6'X6' clothes hamper (how could he miss?) but even then I knew it would be a waste of time and money.

But I digress...

Not only is our 400 square foot garage Project Headquarters, it also holds all the stock for Scott's eBay business--he sells vintage cassette tapes.  (We have close to thirty thousand tapes.)  He scours the local thrift stores regularly for cassettes and usually comes home with a hundred or thereabouts, which need to initially be sorted by genre (his job) and alphabetized (my contribution--Scott's dyslexic grasp of the alphabet is tenuous at best.)  In between forays to pillage the resale emporiums he hunts and gathers at the hardware store and gardening supply shop, the booty of which are deposited within the steadily diminishing open areas of the garage.  Simultaneously, various home projects going on in various stages of completion require numerous tools left lying about with sharp spiky bits just waiting to snag whatever nice top/dress/scarf I've just purchased.  Or, in the painfully memorable case of the Left Open Tool Chest Drawer, lurking to put my eye out.  

My point is that stuff piles up, all over, everywhere.  It's our dirty little secret, our messy garage.  The chaos distresses Scott as much as it does me; he starts the "We need to clean the garage" mantra after the first two (on average) layers of strata have been laid down.  We meaning me, as I'm the only one at our house whose concept of cleaning involves stowing things where they actually belong, not piled willy nilly in a corner or shoe-horned into a cabinet where hopefully nobody will ever look, nor need, said items ever again.  It's like a time machine, sorting out the mess:  "I remember painting that room last Fall!", and "Wow--that tree has grown five feet since we planted it in 2009".

I'm still digressing...

Anyway, the friggin' ladder was close to becoming a black hole, compressed as it was from the weight of the multitudinous layers of crap.  I have another one stored in the bedroom closet, which is MY domain and thus is organized.  So I ask you:  did I make the correct choice, intelligently close the garage door, and fetch the ladder out of the closet?  No.  I stupidly stepped into the messy abyss. 

The time was was ten AM.

Eight and a half hours later, I was done.  I organized.  I put tools away.  I stacked, carried, hauled, swept and vacuumed.  I recycled exactly 2487923 cardboard boxes, and alphabetized nearly 1000 tapes.   And do you know what?  I never did get to the top shelf in the larder, and along the course of the afternoon I finished the bag of pita chips, which means I never needed to put them away in the first place.

Hoisted by my own tidy petard.


As penance, I fed the Cats.

Happy Sunday!

XX  Trish  XX