We’ve all said “Oh, you really shouldn’t have” when someone does something nice for us or gives us a gift. It’s an automatic response, though what we really meant to say is …I wasn’t expecting this. But thanks, I’m glad you did!
But when a friend of mine gave me a gift the other day? Out of nowhere, for no reason, just because? It was a lovely gesture and of course… I said, “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
Sure, millions of dollars would be nice… maybe we could have a roof that doesn’t leak and that private jet I’ve always wanted…. but paying someone else to stain the deck so I wouldn’t blow out my knee? Changing doctors when I knew mine was an idiot so I wouldn’t be misdiagnosed and need surgery ? Not letting our cat outside on the day he was run over by a car? Or having the chance to spend more time with my father and ask him all the questions I should have before he died? I’ll take that over a giant bank account any day.
I’ve heard people call it the zoomies, but I can’t quite wrap my tongue around that.
Whatever the nomenclature, it’s when your pet goes spastic and starts tearing around the house like a whirling dervish. For Lord Dudley Mountcatten it happens every evening around 7:00. He starts to twitch, gets a wild look in his eye and he’s off. Sprinting across the living room, down the hall, bouncing off a wall to the second hall, up and over the bed, across the top of a chair, back down the halls, through the kitchen, ending under the dining room table with a toy.
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Last night it was the blue feathered whale and as you can see, he was having a grand old time.
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Wish I was that limber.
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I’m not sure why he has a fascination with furniture legs…
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But when he’s in rippin’ mode he always wraps around them to play.
Once you get past the ick factor, you have to admit it does make sense.
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“An average flush for a modern, Western-style toilet uses 6 liters (1.6 gallons) of water, and the average adult pees about seven times every 24 hours. That means that each day of weeing takes 42 liters (11.1 gallons) of toilet water to flush away. Assuming that people urinate the same way every single day, this means in just one year, the average person uses 15,330 liters (4,050 gallons) of toilet water. There are 319 million people in the US, so assuming they all pee the same, which they don’t, but we’re making broadly accurate assumptions here that’s about 4.9 trillion liters (1.3 trillion gallons) of water flushed away in the name of urine every 365 days. For comparison, that’s like flushing away 1.97 million Olympic-sized swimming pools’ worth per annum.”
“Now, if you peed in the shower, you’d massively reduce this figure. Say that this means that you only pee in a toilet six, not seven times, per day. This means that in just one year, you’d save 2,190 liters (579 gallons) of toilet water. Extrapolating this to the entire US population, that’s 699 billion liters (185 billion gallons) of water saved.”
Since we’ve established my husband doesn’t want me to lend a hand in the basement, alternative helpmates must be employed.
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Meet the Dead Man.. otherwise known as my husband’s personal assistant. Since my spouse can’t lift, position and hold a piece of plywood over his head while screwing it into the floor joists, he built himself a friend. One who doesn’t offer advice or disagree with him like I do.
And speaking of holding things in place….
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When the old insulation is ripped and starts to sag?
Grab a broom.
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And balance that broom on a box, which is balanced on a few old books, which are top of another box which is on a table not meant to support that much weight.
Props to my husband for not only sticking with his horrible basement project but becoming totally obsessed by it. Clearing, cleaning and organizing ( not really, but he’s trying ) 40 years worth of junk is not for the faint hearted. Or the asthmatic… the dust and cobwebs are epic.
When last I reported, shelves were being built on the back right wall and corners were being turned.
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So now that ⬆️…
Looks like this ⬇️ …
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Because every time he carves out a small area to work…
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Thousands of pounds of junk stuff must be moved.
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Anyone need a tv antenna or an old bottle of Clorox? It’s still half full.
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Four vintage wooden crates were unearthed… but none of them were alcohol related for my vinyl collection damn it.
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This is a serious amount of work. And while I try to go down and help, more often than not the husband gets aggravated with me and tells me to get lost.
If 39 years of marriage has taught us anything, it’s that we don’t work well together. I’m a very organized person ….. I plan, I make lists, I gather needed tools and supplies, I have everything I need within reach. He wings it… no plan, always searching for tools and has to run to the store every other day for more supplies. Basically, we drive each other crazy and end up doing our projects by ourselves. Harder, yes. But it keeps us out of divorce court.
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It’s a good thing I don’t use that freezer or second refrigerator anymore.
A few more chuckles from Mary Roach before I put this book to bed.
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My husband does not moisturize, though at times I wish he would.
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As you know I have a spouse who enjoys filling our kitchen with overpriced gadgets…. so I totally get this. Though thankfully no $345 pentolas have crossed our doorstep.
Yet.
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Touchless trash cans with sensor eyes? Please don’t tell my husband.
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Preach sister! My spouse never ever uses coins but has them stashed everywhere. In the den closet, in every vehicle cubbyhole, and yes in jars on the bedroom floor.
According to my stats I’m on a path to having the highest monthly views since I got here four years ago.
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Granted I’ve been blogging about fascinating topics in January like the junk in our basement, crab balls and masturbating walruses… but still. The spike in readers seems a bit extreme.
And because I was curious which posts were popular, I checked.
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Turns out they all were.
But only once.
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I’m sure it’s just spammers, but most of the views are from the U.S., not India or Pakistan…. so it makes me wonder which one of you could be stalking my blog and searching my archives for pearls of wisdom like ‘Of Slime and Flies’?
Fess up. There’s no shame in the admission, we all need a hobby.
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