Not a whole stinking lot, because there was nothing to type.
Grilled some steaks and took a survey of my domain (such as it is) as I watched the meat cook--the hosta is now in full bloom, as are the pestilential Japanese beetles. We bought traps last year, but I haven't had a moment to get any more of the flower stinkum that goes in them, so I'm going to have to spray them with some nice pesticides. I hate those stupid things. (Japanese beetles, not pesticides.) The neighbor's fence is finished now and looks very nice and I encourage everyone else around me to fence their yards, too. Although I am somewhat disturbed that the fence might have disturbed Kelly the Bunny's ability to find her home. But, rabbits can dig, so I guess she'll be able to find a way to still come eat our flowers. Boy's pear tree continues to produce a thick heavy crop of fruit. The wisteria has recovered quite nicely from my attempts to kill it--it's big and bushy and headed up the maple tree again. Grass? Needs cutting, at least according to the Mrs., who otherwise usually doesn't say anything about such things. I'm not quite certain why she decided to mention it, but I assume it is because I am a shiftless ne'er-do-well and require prodding. Now that the grass is back down to a manageable level, I think it's time for some help from Boy. The grille? Oh, man, it needs to be fixed. The part you set your meat on is all rusty, and the bottom's all full of scale and rust. Time for a fix-up.
After supper, some early laundry, and thankfully we ran out of detergent or SOMEone would have insisted on trying to get it all done last night. Miss Reba has developed a bad habit of insisting that the laundry be done, and that she must do it, all the while complaining that she can't get any studying done. I finally told her last night that under no circumstances was she to do any of the laundry this week, so she would have uninterrupted study time. "I'll do it." "But YOU have to cut the GRASS!" (See what I mean?) I reminded her that the two activities are not mutually exclusive, and that I have done both many (MANY) times in the past, quite successfully. I have a system, you know. First of all, we wait until Saturday instead of Thursday, and that way we can wash a few big loads than many smaller ones. Second, instead of pouting that no one helps me, I make the kids help fold. I sometimes think Reba might just be avoiding studying by grabbing the baskets on Thursday night and sulkily folding things, all the while complaining that the kids don't help her. (Not that I would ever suggest such a thing out loud.) "Did you TELL the kids to help you?" Of course not. Pouting and not studying being much easier, I suppose.
But, again, thankfully the detergent was all gone. And I wasn't ABOUT to suggest using the big bottle of Woolite under the cabinet. Nor was I about to go get any. Because if I did that, I wouldn't have time to vegetate in my chair in the bedroom and play Catherine's Mario Pinball Land on her Game Boy SP and watch Pocahontas with her! Man, I love that Pocahontas movie. Especially if I don't have to listen to the dialogue.
Did that, then sent her to bed after it was over, watched the news, and got all unconscious and slept the rest of the night. Except for that one time I had to wake up and test the plumbing. What made it worse was that I realized as I was stumbling around in the dark that I had been dreaming about something entirely normal. You know how you dream that you're just going through your normal day, and no one is doing anything weird or flying around the ceiling or you're not late for something and naked? I never do like those dreams--seems like such a waste, and you wind up tired in the morning because you think you've been awake doing normal stuff all night. ::sigh:: Oh well.
Anyway, that's what I did last night.
Posted by Terry Oglesby at June 24, 2005 02:55 PM