The Big Red Blog: The Blog Without Pity

Projects for people
I won’t lie – I’ve been inventing projects for us to do. See – Deeps looks to me to plan the weekend entertainment. So I try to think up something good. Then I remember we’re kind of broke (from buying the manse). Plus we’ve seen the couple of good movies that are playing nearby.

I make a list of things for us to do.

Install a water filter on the kitchen faucet.
Fix some broken screens.
Install a peephole (or as they are called on the box – door viewer)
Fix the front yard landscaping
Organize the shed
Build a screen for the upstairs window
Mow the lawn

If that’s not enough, I suggest that we haul around a ton of rock and fix up the front yard.

Phase one of the front “garden” was completed – but I wasn’t happy with the color. The rocks were too gray – I wanted more brown. I like contrast! Plus I thought if we dug some trenches around the concrete edging, we’d have less soil erosion.

So I got out the shovel and dug and Deeps supervised from the porch while fixing more window screens and building a brand new screen (he’s the proud owner of a new hacksaw) for the windows on the third floor landing.

We’ve determined that when it comes to tasks that require patience and skill – like assembling the entertainment center or building a new screen – he’s good for that job. But when you need brute force physical labor, well let’s just say I’m not afraid to put my back into it.

So the front is done, I’ve planted a few shade tolerant perennials and I’m planning my next landscaping move: a deck for the backyard – next spring.

Meanwhile my husband has taken over the dining table with hacksaws and bits of spline and little tools and connectors and whirligigs to build the perfect window screen.

As a bonus, I got to drill lots of holes into wood. Drilling is fun. I may invent excuses to do it every weekend. I also installed the new peephole which I think should be installed in ever exterior door. Seriously – peephole technology is not a) hard or b) expensive – why don’t more people have them? And if you install it yourself you can use the opportunity to buy a new drill bit.

New drill bits are fun. All I did was read The Book, hit the hardware store and follow the directions on the back of the package. Easy as pie. Actually – pie has lots more steps, unless you’re eating it.

I think the lesson here is to understand your strengths and weaknesses as a couple: I’m like the Hulk and Deeps is like Spider-man. Or something like that.

By: Alyssa | Sunday, July 31, 2005 at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

Front yard makeover

The yard was totally overrun with weeds and crabgrass. It had been mulched, but I don't think the previous owner was much of a gardener. So using my new shovel (top right) I started digging it up. Digging up about 100 square feet of yard is harder than you might think. But rewarding in the end - as long as you remember not to do anything too stupid. I also took like 7 Advil after - that took the edge off. KIDDING!

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

I need to remove some dead grass (which I killed with some grass killer - I'm a grass killer) by the edging, but I'm pleased with the initial result. I wanted something simple, that provided good drainage and cover - and would require little maintenance. I think we succeeded. Plus I dug holes - which isn't as fun as drilling, but is still surprisingly enjoyable.

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

Come and knock on my door: the peephole project

I decided to add install a peephole for a little extra security. First I consulted my book, the drill, the door and the floormat - then the book again. It only listed one step - I was suspicious. Turns out peepholes are very easy to do.

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

I am sweaty and have a big drill (please note my 1/2" drill bit - there was much excitement abou the purchase). Deeps said I looked very happy to be drilling - what girl wouldn't?

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

Now I can see the killer before I let him in.

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

Wind beneath my screens

Deeps is the master if tiny tools with fine control and cutting. Alyssa smashes things.

Labels: 2005

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

The screens look good - the siding is sketchy (someone needs to get the hose out!). And the Poopus approves.

By: Alyssa | at Sunday, July 31, 2005 | |

Social Contract
I don’t spend tons of time thinking about this, but sometimes one must face the reality of the social contract: I think it exists to keep society moving. It’s like the grease on the wheels. Maybe.

The thing about it is, you don’t necessarily know how to quantify the social contract – but you know it when you see it. Like the way everyone faces one way on the elevator or something. The contract is violated all the time, but this week – I’ve had more than my fair share of awkward encounters – direct violations of the social contract.

Just tonight I was at the grocery store and a woman, I’ll call her Typhoid Mary, was walking through the produce aisle selecting her vegetables. She coughed. Again and again and again: I think she coughed on all the food. Health hazard? Yes! And a violation of the social contract – we as a society think it’s a bad idea to cough on the food in a grocery store. Therefore, we don’t do it. But when someone does… how do you address it?

Seriously, I thought she was going to die over the tomatoes. She was unwell.

Yesterday I was walking home at the hottest part of the hottest day of the year in Massachusetts. I think the heat index was hovering around 110. My flip flop (oh whither my sandals) was starting to get melted tar bits stuck to it. I had two more blocks to go, I took a swig of water and turned a corner. I noticed a woman, her friend, and her dog walking towards me.

I kept moving along – at this point I was getting a little overheated. I noticed the woman wrapping the dog’s leash up her arm. As they got closer, the dog lunged at me – barking and snapping.

“Oh he’s friendly,” the owner said yanking at the dog and saying admonishing him. “He’s just saying hello.”

With his fangs, lady. Guess what – your dog is not friendly if he lunges at strangers and forces hapless commuter women off the sidewalk into traffic (thanks for stopping Toyota Camry) to get the hell away from your 150 pound German Shepherd.

I thought about saying like “that seems like an overtly hostile move,” or something like that – but I was hot, exhausted and realized I couldn’t win an argument with a delusional woman. You have to be delusional if you think your dog snapping at someone on a public sidewalk who hasn’t even acknowledged it is just saying “hi.”

Monday I rode the train – hot – with a guy who sat really far out in his seat to talk to the guy across the aisle from him. The aisle is maybe 4-5 feet wide, big enough for standing riders to stand back to back in front of the row of seats. I think the train is where you see the most regular breakdown of the social contract. Panhandlers, someone who is talking loudly on their cell phone, the guy who wets himself – it’s a cavalcade of awkward.

But this guy who was talking to his friend kept bobbing and weaving around me – like I was a giant obstacle – to his conversation. I couldn’t really stand by him, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go on the packed train. And I just tried to hang on for dear life as we hurtled down the track.

He got more aggressive in his pushing forward – the woman next to me made a face like “what a jerk.” Finally I took action.

“Excuse me sir,” I said.
“What?” he was surly in his response.
“You’re violating the social contract.”

He just looked at me and leaned back a bit.

Then he started to talk to his friend again, even more loudly.

Victory is never mine.

By: Alyssa | Friday, July 29, 2005 at Friday, July 29, 2005 | |

An ode to my sandals
You were black and shiny leather once
Narrow buckles and straps
You never wore on my ankles
Or scuffed at m toes
Never a blister or a blemish or a scratch

We walked together for miles
Through gardens and beaches and parks
For business and pleasure
No sandals ever served me better
Until the unfortunate incident at Park St.
Where your sole came apart and the strap broke
Now my foot will not be the same
I have no broken in sandals to wear
And those cute wedge jobbies are a nightmare on my toes
So I am wearing flip-flops now
Since sandal season is over at Macy’s
And now they torture me with the siren call
Of the sassy black boot

Farewell good sandal – you made my feet look long and lean
I even got pedicures for you
But the land and my feet are hard
So I bid you farewell and pitch you into the trash can

By: Alyssa | Tuesday, July 26, 2005 at Tuesday, July 26, 2005 | |

Must sleep TV
It is hot, I'm lying around and feeling very undermotivated when I get home. I have suggested at least twice this week that we have fro-yo for dinner. I was not overruled.

Deeps has been working on some talk he's giving so I spend a lot of time on the couch dozing. I feel very old-school this way: drinking iced tea and fanning myself. The cat thinks this is the perfect time to lay on me, but whatever. She's got a brain the size of a walnut so I have low expectations.

I've been trying to find good shows to watch that require a) little attention b) aren't too loud c) can induce some level of relaxation so that I might doze.

I find lots of the crime shows on A&E work, but then I have weird dreams. So I've been watching BBC mysteries which my husband refers to as "Inspector Sleepy Mysteries."

He's not wrong; they make you kind of drowsy with their bad plotting and slow story resolution. They drag everything out and then all of a sudden the cops get a clue (at least once an episode I comment to no one in particular that they are the stupidest police in the world) and crack the case.

We can also predict every possible plot twist - if you can even call them that - and resolution usually in the first 15 minutes. And we always ID the killer. It's not as easy as on say - Law and Order - where you know the guest star did it. I don't know all the British actors, but whatever. It's not hard.

This is why they are the perfect television to doze by. But alas, the last Inspector Sleepy mystery has aired and ended with a cliffhanger.

Will his partner (who has a head that resembles a turnip) recover from her lame gunshot wound? Who cares? I need to figure out what I'm going to take naps to next week.

By: Alyssa | at Tuesday, July 26, 2005 | |

That’s not for you
Last night, prior to my horrifying identity theft mail reading – I was cruising through the channels for some TV to doze by.

I found a show on TLC called “101 items removed from the human body” or something close to it. Deeps saw it listed, we read the description. Items removed included: a live hand grenade and a diamond necklace.

“This is exactly what I’m looking for,” I said.

“I can’t let you watch this,” Deeps replied. “Seriously, it’s going to rot your brain. I mean it. You’ll have nightmares. Don’t you remember the ants from last week?”

Which is true – this late at night, I’m highly suggestible and I’ll have some crazy dreams all night.

So we watched some Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law instead. God I love the Ti-Faux.

By: Alyssa | at Tuesday, July 26, 2005 | |

The exciting world of identity theft
So I got a letter last night saying I’ve been a victim of identity theft. Apparently my lone credit card (used exclusively for travel) was stolen in May when that big hack was reported and like 40 million peoples’ info was swiped.

How exciting.

Now I begin the delightful task of damage control.

So much for my shredders and diligence.

By: Alyssa | at Tuesday, July 26, 2005 | |

Carnage Avenue
I’ve noticed a LOT of cats on our block. At any given time, I’m wandering home – minding my own business – when I get this weird feeling like I’m being watched.

Then some crazy yellow tabby streaks by me. Or a big gray cat stares at me from a porch. On Friday the little calico was actually stalking me from behind a bush.

It’s enough to make a woman a little freaked out.

And then when I was coming home on Friday night I noticed a dead bird on the sidewalk – a blue jay. I thought, aww – that’s too bad, someone needs to do something about that bird. I walked along and notice a small dead mole about two houses away. Again, eww – please remove the dead carcasses. And then I nearly stepped on a dead mouse.

The cats live on Carnage Street, and I think I might be next. I’m keeping the Poopus inside – I don’t think she’s smart enough to figure out those cats would totally beat the crap out of her. Or worse, she’d start plotting against me.

Then it would be all Planet of the Apes – except with cats. And not directed by Tim Burton.

Labels: evil bird

By: Alyssa | Monday, July 25, 2005 at Monday, July 25, 2005 | |

Conundrum
My neighbors – of soon-to-be reality TV show fame – have asked if I might like to participate in the redesign of their room: as manual labor.

I’m torn. On the one hand I think I don’t want to do that crap in my own house (but have and suffer with the sore back to prove it). On the other, I think I could be hilarious on TV. Like the worst helper person on one of those shows. Or better yet, I could be all Gladys Kravitz about it and just like spy on everyone.

I’m not sure what to do yet. I’ll have to consult my schedule first since the work is taking place during the work week. Is this how I want to spend a vacation day – paint someone else’s giant room that I paid someone to paint in my own house? Maybe I could just like bring them some lemonade and cookies and chat up the weirdo host.

Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sweaty – whatever happens. August is just so…. unfortunate.

By: Alyssa | at Monday, July 25, 2005 | |

Your book could be about 150 pages shorter
I finished The Historian. I never thought I’d make it through until the end. There came a point about 2/3 of the way through the novel when it stopped being pleasure reading and became like an unfortunate history lesson.

How much of it is legit? I don’t know. I don’t care. I did think to myself many, many times that this woman would have really benefited from a little more guidance from her editor. I'm sure the author wasn't getting paid by the word - ya know?

History is fine, I love history: but when you go off on 100 page tangents that do not serve your plot…. I have to break up with you.

I’m sorry. It’s not me. It’s you. Oh and your ending is deeply unsatisfying.

But that’s all over now. I was going to dive into American Prometheus, the new Robert Oppenheimer bio – but in light of this unfortunate Historian thing… I think I need something lighter and poppier to read. Like a trashy mystery novel or something I can use to cleanse my brain.

By: Alyssa | at Monday, July 25, 2005 | |

Lift with your legs
The heat wave broke, temporarily, on Saturday. Deeps asked me what I wanted to do.

We talked about the movies, we talked about dinner, but in the end we opted for a project.

See, I turned our nearly dead backyard lawn into a field of 5 inch high crab grass. My neighbors are thrilled. And since I can’t dig up the backyard and reseed it on the fly, I decided it was time to tackle the front “yard” – it’s more of a garden bed – and remove all the weeds and crabgrass that have overrun it.

So we dug and skimmed and pulled and removed all the debris from the dreaded weeds. But what to do? I did what the English did, I covered it in rocks.

But how many rocks do you need to cover about 100 square feet of space? About half a ton – literally.

I wish I could think of some kind of charming and pithy retelling. But I might still be dehydrated and my brain is mushy. I dug and dug and pulled and weeded and smoothed and stamped and patted and planted. Then I started to spread some gravel – nice light brown pea gravel.

“I got enough to do like 20 square feet,” I mentioned at the giant hardware store of doom.

Deeps nodded and dutifully pushed the cart towards the check-out. But see, if this was one of those elaborate word problems foisted on you by your Algebra teacher, you’d discover that 20 square feet of materials is not going to handle 100 square feet of space.

That’s right, my husband, with his PhD in Math didn’t bother to check my calculations. And so we ended up doing an extra trip to the store to buy more rocks. Luckily, that extra trip meant he could buy lots more screen to fix the window screens on the first floor – they had lots of holes.

So while I did the really hard physical labor for like 4 hours, he used his little wheely bob (okay, it’s called a spline tool) to jam in the rubber strip that holds the screen into place. You’d think the man had lifted a truck or something.

He did suggest I wear sunscreen, take breaks and he brought me lemonade. I told him he’d make a good wife someday. I think he was secretly pleased.

Photos of my lame before and after tomorrow. Maybe.

By: Alyssa | at Monday, July 25, 2005 | |

Bad entries for a hot week
Here’s the thing: I’m not built for the heat. Actually, I’m not built for the humidity. Sweating is all fine and good when exercising or maybe doing some serious yard work. But sweating by walking down the stairs to the kitchen, well that’s just unnecessary.

Days like this make for bad entries and less than happy living.

My days are like this: wake up, think about what to wear that I can sweat in comfortably; laugh at how stupid that is; contemplate hair and cosmetics – decide brushing teeth and pulling back hair are the best things you can possibly do; consider many types of deodorant for fear that you smell or have sweat stains; dress; sweat as you climb down the stairs to the kitchen; turn on the AC; eat some Kashi and watch the weather where they talk about how hot it will be; go to work via bus and two trains; spend a lot of time sweating and achieve maximum speed of 7 mph; arrive at work and spend next 30 minutes washing hands and dabbing sweaty head and neck with damp cloth; work; think about going to the gym but decide against it because it is too hot and looks like it could rain – or maybe it is raining; eat “cold” lunch and dream of smoothies from Jamba Juice (there’s only 1 in all of Boston – not near you); work; leave work for home; reverse commute is bad due to “power issues” – sweat a lot underground, then in a bus; achieve maximum speed of 5 mph; stagger home into house; drink much lemonade; lie on couch for a few minutes while husband pretends not to call you a drama queen – it’s just a little heat; remember to write letter to congress representatives to see if they can cancel August; eventually recover enough to eat some popsicles for dinner; nod off at 9 because you have sweated so much you are totally exhausted; have quick shower to rinse off before sacking out; dream of ants attacking you.

Lather, rinse repeat – our heatwave is just beginning.

Boston summers have made me soft. In Chicago, well – it can always be worse. They’ve got the heat and a drought.

By: Alyssa | Tuesday, July 19, 2005 at Tuesday, July 19, 2005 | |

Keep that to yourself
So a guy at my office saw the book I was reading, The Historian, which has been talked up a couple of places – including Bookslut.

“Oh my friend just read that book,” he said.

“Was it good?” I asked.

“She said it’s like this year’s DaVinci Code.”

Oh.

By: Alyssa | at Tuesday, July 19, 2005 | |

It all happened very fast
“Just pretend the camera isn’t there,” the producer told us.

We pretended.

I had absolutely no illusions about what this would be like. I didn’t really expect we’d be involved in the filming, but we got corralled – quickly. We got home, literally didn’t put down our bags and the request came. Please come be on TV with us.

We didn’t hesitate. Honestly, I expected Deeps to have some reservations. But he just blazed out and joined in. The producer mentioned how our neighbors had spoken very highly of us, which I don’t doubt. But I guess we’d have done it anyway.

But no hesitation?

Does that make us bad people? Literally – no hesitation. I washed my hands because I’d been hanging on to a rail on the subway. My hair was frizzy, I had something weird on my face, I was dripping in sweat. My clothes clung to me in weird and unflattering ways. I might have had a bit of food on my shirt.

But I didn’t care.

It wasn’t for us – it was for our neighbors. They were so excited, how could I say – no I won’t do a fake walk with you for your TV makeover show. Seriously – who could say no?

Looking back, maybe I should have taken my sunglasses off.

By: Alyssa | Monday, July 18, 2005 at Monday, July 18, 2005 | |

I’m not ready for my close-up
When we pulled up we noticed a lot of cars parked around our house. This isn’t totally unusual given that a family with approximately 35 teenage drivers lives next door. But then we remembered that today is the first HGTV day.

The crew came by to visit our neighbors, introduce the designer and do some of the “pre-makeover” shots. I’d barely walked through the back door when the doorbell rang.

Before I proceed, I should like to paint a picture: the temperature is about 85 and the humidity is probably close to 100%; the train was steamy and I was quite sweaty, in addition I’d sprouted some sort of growth near my mouth – a hive or worse. Oh and the frizzy hair was reaching ‘fro proportions. I was not ready for TV.

“Can you guys come for a walk with us, they want to do some shots of us walking with you,” our lovely neighbor asked. She was fresh like a lily – I was literally dripping sweat. I asked to wash my hands. Deeps said he was game. That’s because he looked good. I was wearing a t-shirt that was hanging off me and pants that are at least a size too big. I was ready for my close-up.

So we closed the door, ignored the festering ant problem which was only compounded by a clogged toilet (a new development) and walked around outside with our neighbors while the crew filmed us. And then it was over and we signed a release and marched inside to look at the toilet.

Deeps, the gentleman plumber, grabbed his snake and some rubber gloves and went to work. The culprit was some paper towels used just last night in a fit of ant killing and removal. The ants are dead, the toilet is unclogged, and my sad self will be on TV sometime… maybe. My parents must be proud.

By: Alyssa | at Monday, July 18, 2005 | |

Empire of the Ants
We came back from the movies (Wedding Crashers – not bad, a solid matinee choice; could stand for a few more laughs during the last act) to hang out at home. Actually, Deeps decided to go see another movie. I opted to hang out and watch some of my TiFaux backlog and maybe catch up on some reading.

Deeps left for the movie. I read for a bit. Then I got a little hungry and decided a crispy snack was in order.

I made way for the pantry and made a horrible discovery: ants. They were everywhere.

I spent the next two hours killing, cleaning up and throwing away ants and all the infected food. Plus washing floors and counters and shelves where I might have used a little ant spray. The cat watched with mild disinterest. Deeps was off at a movie, unawares.

I’ve killed a lot of ants now and thanks to a check-in call from Deeps on his way home: “Do you need anything from the store?” – we have approximately 35 ant traps in about 8 square feet of space. I think the ants will be banished from the house.

Still – I don’t like the idea that they might hang around and menace me. Them.

By: Alyssa | Sunday, July 17, 2005 at Sunday, July 17, 2005 | |

Extreme makeover - totally unpacked edition

Maybe you'd like to see the house in its unpacked state. We didn't have to go on TV to get a room like this. Although you may think we did because you're wondering why anyone would paint a room that color.

I promise - it is much more leafy green in person. Maybe I'll do some more fancy window treatments later, but I like the simple honeycomb blinds for now. They filter lots of light but give us some privacy.

And I need some new throw pillows - because I think someone (like the furry alarm clock) has been eating them.

By: Alyssa | Friday, July 15, 2005 at Friday, July 15, 2005 | |

Fine Dining

So this is the final version of the dining room. Sort of. I hate this dining table - but I can't justify the expense of replacing it at this time. So I just try not to complain about it too much. Eventually the table will change.

Anyway - everything hung up. Stuff put away. My husband organized the bookshelf - and much was made of it. Except that bottom shelf - it is ugly, but whatever. If you'd like him to organize your bookshelves, please feel free to email me. He will only charge you a small fee.

By: Alyssa | at Friday, July 15, 2005 | |

The completely unpacked book nook is a comfortable place to read. There's good light and it is the perfect spot to showcase my great grandmother's rocking chair. And yes, the green is relaxing to read by, Mother. It looks less psychedelic in person.

By: Alyssa | at Friday, July 15, 2005 | |

Reality TV is coming, alert the media
I think I’m going to miss out on most of the reality TV fun from the HGTV people. They show up next week to introduce my neighbors to their designer (from Designer Finals). And they talk about stuff.

Our neighbor told us the producer said it would take about 6 hours. He couldn’t fathom why it would take so long to meet someone. I smiled – that is because they’re filming it. Dude, they need coverage.

I think he’s figured that part out because I caught him pulling up weeds and talking about mowing the grass for the exterior shots. I said I’d take the old Duster we have up on blocks out of the yard. (Kidding! There totally isn’t enough front yard to have a junky car on blocks.)

I am going to help weed the front flower bed and maybe trim some shrubs – because it will be my house on TV too. But my room is done and it looks good – so I don’t care so much.

The reality people come 3 different times. First they have the initial meeting and discussion (6 hours!), then they re-visit to reveal the plan (high drama – probably 6 hours), and then they come for 2 days to do the work.

I figure that last two days is when I’m most likely to encounter them, if I encounter them at all. I will totally go all Gladys Kravitz and just stand on my pack steps, like a slack-jawed yokel and take pictures. I feel I owe it to the blog.

By: Alyssa | at Friday, July 15, 2005 | |

More reasons I’m not fit for parenthood
We went to get Fro Yo a couple of nights ago.

Did you ever have a dog who loved to ride in the car and you’d turn to the dog and say “Hey Lucky, wanna go in the car?” And the dog would get all excited and jumpy and race around until you went for a car ride?

That’s what Deeps does to me with the fro-yo. Wanna get some fro-yo? I have my keys and my wallet in seconds.

So we walked to the nearby (aka more pricey) ice cream parlor (which also sells fro-yo) and waited in line with approximately 1400 screaming children. I was like a Zen master above it all, I was so focused on the fro-yo (Oreo soft-serve please).

Deeps: This must be a tough time for you.
Me: Why?
Deeps: You’re in the belly of the beast.
Me: Wha?
Deeps: You must always go into a place that caters to children, surrounded by the hordes, to get the fro-yo.
Me: I guess I hadn’t noticed.

Which is a lie, but I was being very good and not pushing or kicking or even given dirty looks. Although I will tell you that a pushy group of 50-something women came in and nearly manhandled my husband to get in line. I might have accidentally thwacked one or two of them with my bag.

Ladies, why can’t you be more like the kids. Yeesh.

By: Alyssa | at Friday, July 15, 2005 | |

The new kid
Devlin is #7 in the grandchild grand prix. That is right people; I have seven nieces and nephews. Christmas requires much planning and budgeting.

MUCH.

Although it is easier when they’re not so chatty and are happy with a book or something. When you get the request for the new Xbox or whatever – you’ve crossed the line.

Anyway, back to the kid. Here’s the rough thumbnail. Cuddles, kids and Slim (aka Grandma or Gramma) went to a water park for Peanut’s birthday. Cuddles was feeling a little off. Same thing the next day when she eventually went to the hospital where the doctors told her she was just dehydrated. She delivered Dev less than 12 hours later.

Sometimes medicine is not an exact science. Please write that down.

Slim said she knew Cuddles was in labor because, Cuddles wasn’t so happy. Now it is true that some may say Cuddles sometimes unhappy – but she’s never had say my capacity to go from zero to rage in a few seconds. This is why everyone I know thinks it will be “hilarious” if I ever get pregnant.

Slim is staying with Cuddles for a few days to help out. This is a nice thing that quickly crosses the line to be an annoying thing because they get sick of each other. This is how they know it is time for Slim to go home and for Cuddles to fly free with the latest member of her brood. Another reason why I stick with the cat. Sure, I have to scoop some poop – but that’s like once a week.

How do the other children feel? I’m not sure – although several photos I got look like maybe Dev might get poked every once in a while as the older kid asks, “Mom, what is this crying thing?”

By: Alyssa | at Friday, July 15, 2005 | |

Updates Galore
I’m still a little behind – I’m not sure what the deal is, but I have yet to find my groove. But I’m closer. My apologies for infrequent and lame posts this week. However, I’ve got a lot of exciting updates – coming tomorrow.
Including:
The new kid on the block – he arrived without much fanfare
Why I must endure 8000 screaming kids while purchasing Fro-yo
The basement
How I defeated all the spiders and lived
Righteous indignation inspired by POV
Who picked this movie Part Deux
Complaining about the heat
What is that smell?
Reality TV is invading my neighborhood

By: Alyssa | Thursday, July 14, 2005 at Thursday, July 14, 2005 | |

He seems quiet now

Behold the boy child, Dev - son of Cuddles and BIL. He's an 8 pound, 20.5 inch boy - I hear he's going to ask for the car keys this weekend. He's sly, our Dev.

By: Alyssa | Wednesday, July 13, 2005 at Wednesday, July 13, 2005 | |

New Baby
My 5th nephew was born today – little Dev joins the six pack to make seven. Yes - I do have seven nieces and nephews (2 and 5 respectively). Two more kids and we can field a baseball team.

I hear he’s about 10 days early and weighs just about 8 pounds. My niece – she’s almost 11 – called to give me the news. I remember when she was born. Good lord, I’m getting old.

I don’t have any photos yet, but will provide updates as they become available (and I’m able to find someone who is maybe old enough to drive to provide more information).

Also – well done on upstaging your sister’s birthday, young Dev – you and Peanut will be just a 3 years and a day apart.

Happy Birthday you crazy kids.

By: Alyssa | Tuesday, July 12, 2005 at Tuesday, July 12, 2005 | |

Back up plan
A few of our new neighbors came over on Saturday night to play cards – or as I like to call it “cheap entertainment” for new homebuyers.

We gave a little tour of the place, which was much easier since we’ve dismantled all the boxes and put most everything away. And I’ve rid the house of many spiders – no one would be startled.

People liked the place, which was good. They really fawned over the bookshelves that Deeps has artfully arranged. I simply pointed him in a direction and he really went with it. That’s good because the shelves look good and will probably stay more organized since I got him to do it.

Plus, if things don’t work out for him as a scientist he can always fall back on being a professional shelf arranger. I hear there’s a big need for such things in this neck of the woods.

By: Alyssa | Monday, July 11, 2005 at Monday, July 11, 2005 | |

The bug and I
The cat was making a weird noise in the kitchen. In general – she doesn’t really make much noise. She sometimes meows but usually that means something is up.

So this weird chirp/meow that she was making alerted me to something. And that something was a large flying beetle that was approximately the size of a 14 year-old boy.

“DEEPS!” I yelled.

My husband flew into the room – clearly alarmed by my yells.

“What is – oh my god what is that?”

“Do not panic, but this going to be a two person job. Grab a paper bag and a broom.”

“What?”

“We’re going to have to improvise,” I replied.

“Oh god.”

Thankfully, the plan worked – I hustled the cat into the powder room and then gently opened the door to shoo out the bug (giant man child) while my husband pushed it out the door with the broom.

We were successful despite the hysterical laughter, yelling and occasional squeals when the bug looked like “it might touch” one of us. Gross.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said when it was over.

“I think we both saved each other,” Deeps answered.

Then the cat wailed to be let out of the bathroom.

“And I think we have to give the cat half credit for the assist. That’ll go in her permanent record.”

By: Alyssa | at Monday, July 11, 2005 | |

Man bags for the young

A lot of young boys go through that gender-identify phase. Right now my nephew Bran is enjoying the benefits of a man bag (okay, it is actually his sister's purse - but the concept is the same).

It's a great way for a busy 9-month-old to get around and keep his binky, is didys and his nubby with him at all time. Also - look at the melon on that kid, it's the Boehm round head. We all look like Charlie Brown.

By: Alyssa | Saturday, July 09, 2005 at Saturday, July 09, 2005 | |

Paved paradise and put up a parking lot
Our across the driveway neighbors (we have a tandem driveway) have a lot of driving age kids. A lot.

Their part of the driveway is parking lot with no less than 4-5 cars parked at any given time. And there are usually a few more on the street. I’m not sure how the father does it – he’s very nice – because every morning he must play some kind of complicated car moving game to get his car out of the driveway.

It’s like those crappy games you play at the cracker barrel where you have to move the little tiles around to make a picture – but you can only slide one spot at a time.

I’ve never witnessed the parking maneuvers, but I’m very tempted to get up early to watch. Especially since I’m always awake at god-awful early hours of the morning thanks to the skylight of doom. Thanks skylight.

By: Alyssa | at Saturday, July 09, 2005 | |

It may not be good, but at least it is fast
I’ll confess I’m having a little trouble adjusting to my new “schedule” since moving into the new place. Ultimately, I’m always like 15 minutes behind. This is a problem for the blog because that missing 15 minutes is the time I usually take to write in the morning before work.

All I have going for me is that I’m a fast writer – it’s not good, but I don’t need lots of time. Plus, as a former “writers workshop” attendee I can tell you that I subscribe to the notion that you sometimes just write to write – you have to be disciplined.

So I think this means I’m going to have to adjust my schedule accordingly and see if I can get my 15 minutes back. Meanwhile, I’ll try to write something interesting more often.

Just last night I mentioned that since actually buying the house we’ve hit the point where there’s no real drama in our lives. So maybe we should have a baby to spice things up. But that really isn’t a good reason for re-producing.

Everyone knows you should only have a baby so that someday when you’re old you won’t be alone.

By: Alyssa | at Saturday, July 09, 2005 | |

My hero
I came home after a frantic day at the office – I think my lack of lunch made a few small problems seem like catastrophes. Deeps offered to pick me up from the station since he’d had a doctor’s appointment.

Deeps: Are you okay?
Me: I’m starving – I only ate an apple.
Deeps: I’m driving us to the Thai place immediately.
Me: But….
Deeps: You need to eat something.
Me: Yeah.
Deeps: Also – the caught threw up in the kitchen.
Me: Oh God. I can….
Deeps: I cleaned it up.
Me: Really?
Deeps: Yep.
Me: You feed me and you clean up the cat puke. Wow.
Deeps: I’m the best husband ever.
Me: You’re Bobby to my Whitney.

By: Alyssa | Friday, July 08, 2005 at Friday, July 08, 2005 | |

Hard conversations with your husband: #139 – You need to throw that away
We’ve conquered the last box. It took like 5 days to get through the last 3 boxes, but it is finally over.

Now we sit back and survey the scene – we’ve got some stuff that just doesn’t work.

“But what do we do with these,” he points to a small collection of framed prints and odds and ends.

The rug doesn’t fit in the guest room. It is just a little too big. Our much beloved Danish Modern side table (a lot of our furniture has names) is a little too bulky for the office. The birch dresser is too big for the guest room and too awkward for our bedroom.

And so the hard conversations begin.

“I think we should donate some things,” I offer. Deeps isn’t going for it.

“But we can put some of this stuff in storage,” he replies. Which is true. But that is a slippery slope as I open the door to the storage room in the basement and am confronted by dozens of carefully stacked blue bins with helpful labels like “Christmas” and “Random Linens”. I know those are next, but I pick my battles wisely.

“You’re totally right, we can put some of it in storage. However, let’s think about this for a minute – okay,” I try to break the news gently. “For a lot of years we’ve held on to things for the time ‘when we have our own house’. Now we have our own house and I’m probably never moving – or at least not for the next 5-7 years. So if something doesn’t fit it just doesn’t make sense for us to keep hanging on to it.”

Deeps hangs his head and pauses for a moment. “When you say it like that….”

“It will be okay.”

“I know – it’s just I didn’t expect you to bust out some logic and reason on me.”

“I’m sneaky like that.”

By: Alyssa | Wednesday, July 06, 2005 at Wednesday, July 06, 2005 | |

The Raccoon and I
We live in the country now. Okay – that’s totally not true, we live 2.5 miles from where we used to live. But the fact remains, we’re dealing with A LOT more wildlife now than we have in the past.

Like the squirrel family and now a very, very large raccoon.

He lives in the neighborhood and we ran into him the other night when we came home from a fruitless search for a poplin box pleat bed skirt with an 18 inch drop (king size please). I would like to have a sidebar about bed skirts – why doesn’t anyone sell them? Seriously even Linens’N’Things carries very few. I need to hide the crap under my bed. What gives?

Anyway, I got out of the car and started to walk to the back door. The backdoor light wasn’t on but there was enough light from the neighbors that I could see something like a big cat or medium-sized dog hanging out near the steps.

I was about to remark, “Hey what a big cat,” when my brain processed what it was: giant raccoon.

“Go to the front door,” I hissed to my husband sprinkled between “Oh Crap!”s. He moved to the front porch and we dashed inside to look out the back window. He saw the giant raccoon scamper away.

“It probably wasn’t going to do anything, but still – it was huge,” I said. My husband nodded solemnly.

“I’m not sure how I feel about all this nature.”

I told my friend Em about this little raccoon adventure – how it was messing with our neighbor’s car – like they owed him some money or something.

That’s when she said: Did I tell you about my dad being charged by a moose?

No.

Oh – well I have pictures too.

And so, Internets, shall you.

By: Alyssa | Monday, July 04, 2005 at Monday, July 04, 2005 | |

Moose tales: a story in three pictures

Behold the mother moose - she charged my friend's father in Alaska. He was just minding his own business, unloading groceries, when the moose made her move. Luckily, nobody was injured.