The big dig

After all this:

...and this:...and a whole lot of disgustingly gloopy tangles of tree roots, I can flush again. (And thank goodness, because Dorian also laid some pipe today. Twice.) I may be significantly poorer, but after 4 days trapped in the house without any appreciable access to water (no showers, minimal flushing, no dishwashing, no laundry) I can honestly say I will never take that utility for granted again.

If only I had some more flowers to take my mind off of things...

Thanks to the home colonoscopy that the plumber performed today (without drugs, mind you) I now know that our sewer pipe is broken 7 feet below the sidewalk. And, because I love hanging around the house waiting for workmen and having nothing to do but housework that I can't do with no water, I will get to hang around again all day tomorrow (4 days in a row!) while they excavate part of my yard, including taking down part of my beautiful fence (which, somewhat luckily, was not to blame for this problem, as was suspected). All this joy for the low, low price of a few thousand dollars!

Remember how I wished so long and hard that I owned my own home? Well, strangely enough, I'm still happy that I do. But I will be more careful in the future about mentioning how lucky I have been that everything has been less expensive than anticipated. (I am still thankful that it was, though, or we certainly couldn't afford this little disaster. And I'm not sure we can, but we'll have to.)

At least I'll have the shitty PTA meeting to distract me this evening. Nothing like a cat fight over who gets to be president next year to help you forget your blocked up pipes and your hemorrhaging savings...

Some pleasant distractions

Let's pretend for a moment while we look at the pretty flowers that that's all I need to think about, shall we? Rather than focus on the shit in my life, both literal (ie. sewage in the basement) and figurative (ie. paying for the removal of sewage from the basement), I will now try to enjoy the brief bit of 90 degree weather and the blooms that came with it. I suggest you do the same.

Just in case you're wondering...

...why I talked about doing fun stuff with my brother, but then the only picture on the boys' blog was of hanging out on the couch and the only picture on my blog was of me and a daiquiri, then you should go look over here at the pictures he took.

...how our fence looks, check it out:

(Yes, it is going straight through the quince bush.) (And yes, the kids like to climb on it as much as you imagine.)

...who did most of the interior decorating in this house, I have a new theory. Ed Gein. I noticed the affinity for peachy beige some time ago, but the dining room takes the cake. We started stripping the wallpaper, because there is no better time to use a wallpaper steamer than during a heat wave, and under the sallow plaid upper layer were several other layers in varying flesh tones. Your average drugstore make-up department has less skin colors than this place. Witness:

...what is more disgusting than the crusty scab covering Sebastian's nostrils after his week of noseblowing, you'll love this one. I went down cellar to turn on the outside water so the kids could run in the sprinkler, and I made a gruesome discovery. There was approximately 2 inches of water on the floor and it didn't smell good. So I asked Jeremy to flush the toilet so I could see what happened. I almost wish I hadn't. The waste water from the house is draining right into the basement. At least it should be covered by our home warranty.

The whirlwind tour

We left Saturday for our East Coast tour-- 6 cities/towns in 5 days. We are insane, I know. But I will tell you what, it was the only way to do it. None of that guests stinking after 3 days stuff for us. We barely gave anyone the chance to realize we were there before-- poof!-- we were gone. It probably would have been better had Sebastian not been sick, but he was and he was a real trooper anyway.

Some highlights:

Saturday: Finally saw Jamie and Kaci's apartment they have been living in for almost 5 years now. Sebastian's fever was probably around 104. Only Jeremy got to see Double Trouble.

Sunday: Drove to Baltimore and had lunch with Jeremy's co-worker at a cool restaurant. Went to my aunt's house to visit her family and my grandmother to find we were expected to also eat there a 1/2 hour after our lunch. Kids had an egg hunt and we were back on the road to our 3rd city to see my other grandmother and collapse into bed after watching Little Dorritt.

Monday: Went out to breakfast with my mother and grandmother, then headed down to DC in the pouring rain with my mom to go to the Air & Space museum and the Natural History museum at the Smithsonian. Sebastian was sick and whiny, my eye exploded in an allergic reaction in the orchid exhibit. Thai food for lunch at a restaurant that was supposed to be closed and then back to the guest house for a hot bath for me and naps for the 3 boys.

Tuesday: On the road again to Chincoteague to visit my little brother who is the best host ever. Anyone who says, "I'm always reading about you chopping stuff up, so I thought you'd like this" and then offers me a spread of veggies and dip and hummus and crackers can have me over anytime. Then we went over to Assateague to the awesome visitor's center and the ocean and saw some turtles, about a million egrets and 3 wild ponies grazing by the side of the road. Next we had some amazing ice cream (I had Snickers cheesecake and would have died happy). Then back to Jack's place for a fantastic dinner. He made some coconut-breaded shrimp and even though I generally don't care much for either coconut or shrimp, I ate them and liked them. There was also tuna steaks and rice and mango and veggies. Again, I will happily visit the boy. We also met his friend Susie who was super nice and kept the kids entertained with a floppy frisbee for, literally, hours. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, Jack made me this:

and I almost decided never to leave. Mmmm... daiquiri...

Wednesday: On the road for the final time before 8am. Taco Bell for lunch at 10:45am. Then trapped in the car for 6 hours because traffic was horrible from the time we got off the Jersey turnpike until we got to the IKEA in New Haven. Then a 2 hour rushed drive home to try to catch ANTM and we were back at 8:10pm. There was quite the cheer when we all saw the "Welcome to Vermont" sign.

All in all, the kids were wonderful travellers, we didn't eat as poorly as I imagined/hoped, and we got to see lots of people we haven't seen in a long time. (Like my 14 year old cousin I'd never met.) But I will not be doing it again any time soon.

More monkey wrenches than necessary

For months we have been planning a trip south to visit my grandmothers. Then Listmaker and Youthlarge decided to contribute 2 more people to the world whom I would love to meet, so they were added to our list of stops along the way. Then my brother decided to go to Puerto Rico and was removed from the list, only to be added again last week when he changed his mind. Finally, the itinerary was complete and all I needed to do was pack.

Well, now my mother is proclaiming 3 days of rain, and the children spent the night coughing. I spent the day in total denial, pretending it was just allergies bugging the boys. No such luck. Sebastian is a pale, lethargic bundle and Dorian is a weepy eyed sniffler.* Only tomorrow morning will tell whether we should make the trip and infect newborns and the elderly up and down the east coast.

At least at school today I got to see the awesomest variety show finale ever.

*Do not fret, Listmaker. I will not endanger those little peanuts.

Where should I start?

Should I start with the other day when I had this conversation?

Dorian: "Oshimashion" is a word.

Me: No, but "oscillation" is.

D: "Cock" is a word.

Or perhaps with the good one about the computer that was so infected that while I was running the anti-virus software, the list of infected files was scrolling past and featured the anti-virus software as having a virus.

Or maybe you'd like to hear about how on Monday, I was driving home from the car dealership where I had the car serviced (thankfully, the warranty covered it), and as I approached our house I saw a man asleep on the lawn. Before I could even think that perhaps a fence might have prevented this, I realized there were three men asleep on my lawn. But then, I realized that my fence was halfway up, and the men were my fence men, and they were spending their lunch break basking in the glory of a sunny spring day. And I have my fence! And it is twice as awesome as I hoped.

But what you really want to read about is probably my trip to the river yesterday with my boys and 8 year old Flapdoodle, Jr. I had planned on some rock-throwing and some bug-catching, but Junior had other plans. He proudly announced that he had jumped off the big rock into the swimming hole many times last summer, and then he decided he would like to do it again yesterday. It was sunny and about 60 degrees, which outside of VT is not exactly swimmin' weather. I informed Junior that the water was wicked cold and that it was not really a good idea to swim in. He dips a finger in to test it, remaining firm in his conviction. He needed to jump in that river. I know why he did. That water was so clear and so green, it was begging to be swum in.

I told him that if he really wanted to do it, he would have to take his clothes off, because I did not have dry clothing for him to change into. He spent a moment deliberating whether it was worth risking the embarrassment of being naked in front of his friends and their mom, told Dorian to look away, and started undressing. And then, he plunged in.

His mother had recently told me he would be joining the swim team this summer, and he was proud of his experience jumping off this rock last year. It quickly became apparent, though, that jumping into all that fresh snow melt was a bit too much for him. He surfaced, spluttering and clawing at the water. I leaned over the edge of the rock, grabbed his wrists, and pulled him out, giving him a nice scrape souvenir. After depositing his shivering body on the warmest rock I could find, I ran across the rocky beach to get him a towel. He quickly recovered, dressing again while my children disrobed and getting back to the business of exploring. But every few minutes I would hear "Allison, do you remember when I jumped in and it was so cold?" or "Allison, it was so cold, I think my organs could have shut down." Thank goodness they didn't. Especially since Flapdoodle, who only cares about disco and worrying, shrieked something about how "he doesn't know how to swim!" and something else about him being too chicken to jump off that rock last year.

If it's not one thing, it's another... or both

So, my car sits in the driveway waiting to go to the dealership to determine (and hopefully fix) the cause of the moaning and groaning sound it was making on Wednesday. And then last night the computer went all wackadoo and would show our wallpaper but nothing else. No task bar, no icons, no nothing.

Lucky for us, Mr. Flapdoodle came with the rest of the flappers +1 and did his best to fix things. Clearly, I am using it now. But I don't know how long this will last. So if we all mysteriously disappear from the interwebs, you know why.

There really will be days like this...

But WHY? Why must there?

So far today I have:

• Gotten my ass out of bed early to go in for healthy snack.
• Found out there was nothing to chop up for said snack.
• Had an unpleasant conversation with Mr. S's teacher.
• Made an appointment to speak to the principal tomorrow.
• Been bewildered and frightened by the recent addition of pop-up ads on my computer, despite the pop-up blocker.
• Vacuumed 10 lbs of granola and cereal products from under the dining room table.
• Took Dorian out for a treat and was subjected to people at the next table commenting on my letting him sip my coffee. (It's decaf, people! Relax!)
• Discovered that my car is making a horrible groaning sound.
• Made an appointment that isn't until next week to address the car problem, leaving me to wonder how to get to my talk with the principal.

And what will be next? I'll probably burn dinner, break a dish, be vomited on and then sulk through a special 2 hour diva fit on ANTM. Oh, bedtime, come quickly....

People are nuts

I'm guessing most of you know that the White House is going to have its own 1100 square foot garden, producing 55 different vegetables. Of course I think this is great. I am jealous of its size, but then I don't need to prepare state dinners, so it is better that I will not have that many perishables on hand. Good for the Obamas.

But this line from the article in the Washington Post just cracks me up:

With the Obamas as role models, it could also be a turning point in their battle to overturn the perception of organic food, farmers markets and gardens as the preserves of the elite.

Because the President of the United States of America is not elite?

Dinky's Peabrain reaches new heights!

Last night, while Jeremy and I were rockin' out as Dinky's Peabrain, our RockBand, things were not going so well. I actually failed while singing some shit song during a mystery setlist. (Only once, and we still got 4 stars, but I still don't like failing.) Then I tried to step it up to Medium level drumming, and while there was no failing, it was definitely a trial. So after 7 mystery songs, we decided to finish our evening with a 3 song Make a Setlist of "Today", "My Own Worst Enemy" and "Come Out and Play (Keep 'Em Separated)".

We both chose Expert, me singing and Jeremy on drums. We got 5 stars on "Today" although I only got 82%, but I guarantee you Billy Corgan himself couldn't do that well himself. Then, the magic happened...

On the last 2 songs, we not only got 5 stars, but 5 gold stars. I have to assume that sort of reward is reserved only for doing an almost perfect job on Expert. (We both got 99%.)

Made my weekend.

Spring pants for Dorian, or My sewing machine is a racist

Amanda and I packed the younger boys in the minivan yesterday and headed over to Keene to do a little fabric shopping. I wanted to make the boys new spring/summer pants like last year's which you can see here, here, here and here.

Dorian was coming with me, so he would have the whole store to choose from, but Sebastian had to give me a few choices of designs to look for. He wanted "gears, robots, rockets, or anything outer space." Bad news for him, because I kid you not, there were absolutely no robots or rockets to be found. There weren't even babyish prints or garish ones I refused to buy. There were none. There was one outer space print of some planets, but they were so large that it would not have looked good. I almost made an executive decision and got a music print, but he is getting older and pickier, so I opted to just not get him anything. Dorian was more successful and picked out the monkey combo you see above as well as a swirly blue design I haven't started on yet.

I had high hopes for getting these done quickly, seeing as I had made 4 pair of the exact same pattern last year. Not to mention things had been going exceedingly well for me with the sewing machine recently. We have had nary a fight while making the picnic quilt, the machine and I. No bobbin mishaps, no weird snarls, no thread snapping on its part, and therefore no cussing, crying, kicking or threatening on my part.

These pants were a 3 hour nightmare that involved multiple reloadings of the bobbin, seam ripping, snarling, breaking thread, and excessive frustration for me. And here's my theory: my machine is a racist. Yeah, that's right. See, the quilt is constructed with white thread and I was using brown thread for the pants. Plain as day, that sewing machine is trying to keep brown down.

We'll find out if it's pro-military when I use the navy blue thread for the next pair.

Veggies

It was a gloriously sunny day today, and so the seeds were planted! Dorian helped me plant approximately 40 pea vines (maybe there will be enough that I will get to eat some this year), and a row each of radishes and Swiss chard. Dorian is excited for all the different colors of the rainbow chard and for the white radishes from the Easter egg mix. "I think they'll be very yummy and sweet," he says. I hope that means he's actually willing to try them. Then, when Sebastian came home, we planted the carrot seeds. That leaves 5 rows open for all the stuff that has to wait for after the danger of frost has passed.

Folks, we have a winner!

Dorian and I visited a preschool yesterday and it looks like it will be Dorian's stomping ground for 2 mornings a week starting this fall. So who is the winner? Me, of course, because I will be getting 8 blessed hours to myself every week after 7 long years of having at least one child hanging on me at all times. Dorian will also be a winner since it seems like a really nice program.
Here's what it has going for it:

• It shares a parking lot with Sebastian's school, so drop-off will be easy-peasy. (Especially since Jeremy can do it and I can still be in my slippers.)
• It shares a schedule with Sebastian's school, so they will have all the same holidays and snow days.
• It runs from 8:30-12:30. 4 hours is better than the 3 you usually get from half-day programs that run 9-12.
• We can do just 2 days a week, which I think is plenty, as opposed to the preschool Sebastian attended that requires 5 days.
• The teachers were all really awesome and I was very impressed with the way they managed the class.
• It is a small space, but well organized and not cramped.
• There are 3 teachers for 15-16 kids. Sebastian's class had 2 for 20.
• It is way cheaper than Sebastian's program was even if we did 5 days, so it won't break my limited budget.
• Did I mention I'll have 8 hours to myself?

The horror of it all!

Does this image strike fear in your heart? Make you burst into tears? Well, it would if you were Mr. Dorian. Yesterday, he came over to me clutching his beloved cube puzzle and promptly started sobbing. "What's wrong?!" I asked, imagining a piece was missing or something.

"That no thing says 'no for 3 years old' and I'm 3 years old! It's no for me! It's no for me...."

Just telling him that it was okay, he plays with it all the time was not satisfactory. Clearly, this little symbol trumps Mama every time. I had to explain that what that really meant was it was not for babies who put toys in their mouths and since he doesn't do that, everything was fine and he could play with it all he wants.

It's hard to be 3 and have rudimentary reading skills.