Disclaimer: There is no pedicure. I just couldn’t think of anything else that started with “P.” I hope I didn’t get anyone’s hopes up…
So my plan was to write this great post about the Bathroom Project, complete with amusing pictures. The light fixture in the hall bath that the kid use has been dying for some time, but apparently died an ultimate death sometime last week. When? We’re not sure as it took the kids several days to share with us that they were showering in the dark. Our temporary solution? Put a lamp in the bathroom. An honest-t0-goodness lamp that you need to turn on by hand. Hopefully a dry hand. We may have mentioned that to the kids. Maybe. Possibly not. Anyway, we assumed that the fixtutre would need to be replaced, complete with search for fixture, installation, and repainting of the bathroom because of course the new mount wouldn’t match the paint lines from the old mount. This was going to result in, I was sure, many funny stories. But, as it turns out, Himself was able to re-wire the fixture, replace the bulbs and basically fix the problem with $20 worth of parts and one trip to the hardware store. And as much as I wanted to be irritated that he ruined what was sure to be a hysterical blog-post, I really wasn’t all that disappointed to NOT be painting more walls in my house. As Painting Walls in My House is a post that will be written another time, but which I can assure you will start with, “Chapter One – The Rainbow Doesn’t Have Enough Colors.”
So, that’s not what we’ll talk about today. Instead, we’ll talk about Spring Cleaning and the Patio.
So, let me show you a few before pictures from the patio:
This is not the environment in which we optimally enjoy pursuing new states of drunken-ness sampling new vintages. So this weekend, with the Mother-in-Law coming and all, we decided to make some improvements.
So, first, allow me to show you this:
Ok, here’s the script for this next bit of dialogue. Read carefully.
You: “Ummm….Lori…What the hell is that?”
Me: (proudly) “It’s a fountain!”
You: “Lori, dear, you have really bad taste.”
Me: “No, there’s an explanation!”
You: “Is it going Trick-or-Treating?”
Me: “Is it October already?”
So, here’s the explanation, and I promise if you read slowly it’ll make sense. We have a fountain that sits on the patio. Since we put up all the birdfeeders last fall there have been a ton of finches in the yard and they drink from the fountain. The fountain turned fourteen shades of manky (possibly because finches are drinking from it?) and really needed to be cleaned. With bleach. But I didn’t want finches possibly drinking from it with bleach running through it, so I moved it to the side of the house. But then, worried about the generally large population of birds that frequent the yards with Backyard Neighbor and I both putting out the equivalent of Sizzler’s All You Can Eat BBQ Ribs for Birds on a daily basis, I was concerned that just moving the bleach-filled fountain wouldn’t be enough, so I put a cover over it. But in order to make sure that the cover rested over the water instead of in it, I put a step-stool on top of it, and then covered it with a sheet. With a leaf pattern, because, you know, it’s spring and all.
See how much sense that makes when I put it that way?
After letting the fountain run bleach through it for it for an hour we scrubbed, rinsed, scrubbed some more, put clean water in it and put it back. We also ripped out dead plants, planted new plants, put root-bound trees in the ground and planted a tomato seedling (more on that in a minute.) And the net result was this:
And trust me, after all this? There was an epic nap. We just can’t plant the crops the way we used to.
But about that tomato seedling…
I love fresh tomatoes, I covet fresh tomatoes, I exert HUGE amounts of restraint to keep myself from foraging in the neighbors’ yards in search of fresh tomatoes. But my own yard is not hugely “fresh tomato” friendly. So…
Because of all that, you know…
We did this:
The tomato plant is not as traumatized as it looks. I actually lied down (laid down? lay down? I HATE this one!) on the ground to stare up at it and assess the relative perki-ness of the leaves. They’re pretty perky. It doesn’t seem to mind its current habitat.
Himself wanted to be sure I mentioned that we selected a strategic location where you really can’t see the planter from anywhere else in the yard.
Although claiming that aesthetics are important to us at this stage of the game feels a little empty.
So between the Spring Cleaning and the Gettin’ Back to Nature, this was how we spent the weekend.
And now to the question you’ve all been waiting for…What’s the Current Points Score?
The previous score: +19 points
- Store-bought cake to celebrate my mother’s 64th birthday: -10 points (yes, this was a biggie.)
- Major Spring Cleaning in anticipation of my mother-in-law: +12 points
- Needing a visit from my mother-in-law to get me off my arse to clean: -8 points
- Not finding any food actually liquified in the refrigerator vegetable bin: +4 points
- Discovering new species of plants in the vegetable bin: -3 points
- Semi-sentient laundry: -5 points
- Not notifying SETI about the semi-sentient laundry: -3 points (they’re practically defunct anyway)
- Spiffy new patio plantings: +4 points
- Convincing the children that frozen French Fries counts as a vegetable: -2 points
- Convincing the children that garlic on the frozen French Fries increases the nutritional value: -2 points
- Finding ourselves out of toothpaste after feeding the family garlic fries: -5 points
- Tomato plant – +2 points for deciding to try and grow our own tomatoes, -5 points for horrific hanging tomato planter, but with a +1 point credit for strategic placement of said horrific planter for a net tomato score of: -2 points
For a new total of: -1 points
AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhh!!!! And with my mother-in-law coming!!!
Let’s just step back and savor the irony for a moment – I haven’t been in negative points since March. And two days before my mother-in-law flies into town I totally blow it with tacky tomato planters and garlic fries.
It’s the little things, you know?