Goodbye 30s

Tomorrow is my fortieth birthday.

Arrivederci e ringraziamenti per tutti pesci.  
(Meh. Close enough.)

I’ve decided to not stress over it. It’s a new decade. Besides, there are yet more mysteries to unravel.

What exactly is the meaning of life?  How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? 

Most importantly, and surely the most pressing question of all –

How does the man on the right wipe his own ass?


Catch Up

Obviously, I haven’t visited here in a while;  Facebook usurped every joule of my lingering blogging energies. How can I possibly write my thoughts without the mind-dulling distraction of Angry Birds or City of Wonder?
Facebookless friends have sent me well-meaning email (“did you die?”) and general inquiries (“if you died, can I have your plastic dinosaur collection?”) not to mention Better Half chiming in (“I check your blog every day to see if you’ve written.”) so I must have a lepton-sized fan base out there somewhere.  They’re quite flavourful.

“Autrice, is that a piss-poor physics joke?”

Yes. My wit, much like my writing skills, has decayed over time.

My goal for today was to set up shop on my back deck and essentially finish a blog entry. The weather is perfect. Wind chime tunes mix with the sporadic hammering from our neighbor as he works on his new deck. I can watch birds flit about our trees (inside joke, that) and enjoy the breeze tussling my pepper plants’ leaves.  Humming birds and carpenter bees frolic around our mimosa tree. Lovey setting.  I’m not accomplishing much.

Woe the pitfalls of writing in a natural setting! I turned my back for a moment and Better Half had to fish the wireless mouse from the clutches of the rogue tomato plant growing at the garden level of the yard.

The Village of  Wintersville held Thunder in the Valley last weekend. Our back deck is a prime spot to see the fireworks. There is something magical about rainbow-colored chrysanthemums illuminating the sky. The grass was freshly mowed that day, a heady scent that rejuvenates the soul. Fireflies (we’ve been calling them Firefly Storms due to this year’s large population) dotted the landscape from ground to tree-top. I miss the beach. I miss Colorado’s natural beauty. I wouldn’t leave Ohio if you paid me.

Our spring was rather exciting. We experienced a major plumbing leak in the bathroom. It destroyed the kitchen ceiling. The owners prior to us installed the horrid apple-theme wallpaper below. Above it is the original 1920s wallpaper. I'm going to see if we can save a small strip of it. I'll place it in a frame and hang it in tribute to the Yocums (first owners). We are the third people to own this silly Craftsman.

The plumbers demolished what was left of the ceiling, took down a cabinet, and installed all new pipes. The plumbing between the bathroom and first floor stack is now up to code and all of the original 1920s cast iron, lead and copper pipes are gone. The plumbing in other parts of the house has remained.
We should hear from our insurance adjuster any day now. They will have to remove all the old (hideous!) wall paper, repair the plaster walls, construct a new ceiling and replace one counter top. Ugh. I’ve picked out new colors for the room, chosen an inexpensive counter top (we’ll have to install matching ones on our own dime) and experimented with cabinet painting techniques. Everything is on hold until we have an answer from Allstate. 

The tomato plants are flowering and I’ve seen some pepper buds. Our front garden is glorious this year, accenting the house with shades of maroon, orange, white and lilac. The lawns have gone a bit weedy but I can’t work new seed or sod into our budget.  

My birthday is Friday and we will spend the day at the Phipps Conservatory. My membership expires at the end of July. Time to renew.