Proudly bringing you quirky and mundane observations.
The band Green Day’s song, “American Idiot,” came to mind after I attempted to highlight my locks yesterday. While this stab at hair care could be the reason for the band’s name, it could also be the origin of the warning, “Do not try this at home.”
Good news – I’m out of hair colorings.
When I awoke, I had this image of my grandfather. He used to pour Kellogg’s cornflakes in the bowl, put another bowl on top of that and crush them. Then he’d pour more cornflakes in the bowl before dousing them with milk. That was his appetizer! Bacon and eggs and toast followed.
The best breakfasts were the Sunday morning “wienie” breakfasts. I went to college thinking everyone ate hot dogs for breakfast. My grandma called them wienies, and they were procured from the meat locker one block away. They were the protein for the morning meal, which was the most important meal of the day!
Speaking of…
Cheerio. Cheerios!
It was time to open the box and get to the root of the problem. Thus, I went scrounging around under my bathroom sink for that Clairol box. Lo and behold! I found the purple and teal hairsprays I procured during my mermaid phase of life last year. What better time to go purple?
Now the best part of using up my goods is that it took a full 30 minutes for my husband to even notice my hair was purple. This is how quarantines can affect homes. We become immune to our spouse’s oddities. If only we could become immune to the virus that way, huh?
Tomorrow – I’m going green. My lovely daughter gave me that special hair coloring for Christmas. This is a great time to be bold – when no one knows who you are behind the mask!
Yes, I have that “Next Door Neighbor” app on my phone – and it’s starting to bug me. I guess that’s why it’s “Next Door Neighbor?” If you’re lucky like me, you don’t have a neighbor who bugs you. However, I guess you could get an annoying one who reports and rants and has nothing better to do – other than listing odd stuff for sale or free?
Someone listed a free “chipped wine glass” on the app. “Still usable.” I am wondering why you would want anyone coming to your home for that lone item? I guess they are neighbors to the person offering a three-ring binder for free, too? I’ve decided there is a contest going to see who can get rid of the most ridiculous small item possible. It’s the only way to explain the other weird singular things I’ve found on the app.
Now, this is where I found my dresser conversion for the front porch – so I can’t knock the “for free” side of the app. And if you are in the market for a piano, don’t buy one! There are plenty available without any investment.
Just a friendly neighborly piece of advice for you.
My niece, “Paly,” texted me yesterday wondering whether or not the Disney hotline was true. (I guess she knows my propensity for exaggeration and storytelling?) Anyway, it is, and it’s sweet.
This is also sweet and made me smile. Thanks, Mom, for sending! Enjoy these cuties. It’s called, “Every dog needs a child.” I hope my technologically challenged self can make this work. It would be sweet!
So last night I had a bit of trouble falling to sleep. I learned from the news that snacking is on the rise during this pandemic episode. Seriously? I could have reported that first-hand, as it’s probably why I was wide awake at 2 a.m. Too much sugar, perhaps? Alas – Disney to the rescue!
I called the Disney Bed Time Hotline. 877-7-Mickey. Another report on my local station informed me that if my kids were having trouble going to sleep – call the hotline for free! A favorite character would tell them good night. Well, I was having trouble, I’m somebody’s kid, and I’m always up for a freebie. I called.
I chose “Goofy” as my good night companion. Four more characters to go! Today – I send the snacking, packing. By the way – the hotline is free until the end of the month. (You’re welcome.)
Driving by my neighbor’s chicken coop made me want to build one. They are awfully cute! I just don’t want the chickens. Chatting with my sister we were reminded of our grandmother’s chicken-raising days.
First of all – I hated the hen house. I was a total five-year old wimp. Gathering eggs was just too emotionally traumatic for me. The hens would peck and pester and I was scared. (I did like the wire egg-gathering basket though. It was cute!) My brave grandma would come out after I returned eggless and grab those hens and throw them off their roosts. I never quite got tough enough for that job, even when I turned six years of age.
However, watching Grandma butcher chickens was pretty exciting! She could wring their necks with her bare hands and properly wield an ax to chop off their heads. I found a headless chicken running around to be quite entertaining. Not so entertaining was the job of pulling the quills out of the skin after the birds were de-feathered. Ick. But – we were allowed to help and that was good enough for us little kids.
Glad we talked through this one. Everything about chickens is cute – except the chickens. I think I’ll keep the memories and toss the structure. My husband will be happy to know we are not building the chicken coop I pinned from Pinterest.
Math skills were required yesterday as we – for the third or fourth time – calculated what we need to replace our rickety weathered deck. Actually, it was probably the tenth time, with my husband doing most of the work, and me just throwing a wrench in the process occasionally. (“Let’s do it this way! It would look so cool!”) Of course, Mother Nature threw a bigger wrench into the mental gymnastics.
This would have been easier if I hadn’t been exasperated with having done another tissue-filled load of laundry. Seriously? I didn’t even had a pocket in the load. Back to square one on vacuum duty. At least it was a diversion from the taxing chore of converting feet to inches and adding columns of single digits. The thought “Prevagen” popped into my head.
It was a good exercise, and the man of the house braved the elements to continue moving this project forward. And if anyone talks to my brother, remind him that he’s welcome to take his vacation here, preferably after the shipment of decking arrives.
I know today is Thursday and I’m supposed to vacuum on Thursdays, but I did it YESTERDAY!
First of all, I failed to vacuum after the tissue-in-the-dryer disaster, so I had to remedy that situation. That was a well-traveled business, reaching the outermost corners of the house and invading every room. Maybe there was more than one tissue at play? Anyway, as I did my electric sweeping I thought of a challenge! If you have the old-fashioned corded vacuum, such as mine, can you properly vacuum without holding the cord in your left hand or throwing it over your shoulder? I can’t.
Perhaps I should have opted for cordless when we purchased this model last year, but that would have meant storing it in the garage for recharging on the wall. I just know that the further a cleaning tool is from where it will be used, the likelihood of its frequent use dwindles. Thursdays would have lost their meaning.
So now I’m free today! What shall I do? Oh right. We get to shovel snow again!