Please, do take a step back. Or two. Or three! I don’t understand why, if there are three sinks in the restroom, and only one of them is occupied, you feel the need to stand directly behind me. If you must use the sink I’m using, don’t stand on top of me while you are waiting.
Thank you.
I don’t think I’ve ever made one before. I love to bake, but I’m more of a cake-and-bread-and-brownie baker, not a pie baker. When I was in the grocery store last week, though, I was suddenly overcome by the granny smith apples and had to have them. I’ve been really disappointed in apples the past few years, but these were damnfine tasty. So tasty that, after sharing one with Miss Brown, I had to make the rest into a pie.
It was good. And easy peasy. The crust even turned out decent, considering I’m a novice crust maker. And did I mention easy? Why did I think making pie crust was hard?
Mmmm. Pie.
No photos, alas. Maybe next time. And there will be a next time.
It’s been a crappy day. I woke up really early and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and watched The Amazing Race. Bad idea. Reality TeeVee is supposed to be mindless, not make you feel weepy and nauseated and generally awful. And the day hadn’t improved. Blech.
So, after work I’m going to the Mecca of cheap-assed crap, Target, and I’m going to engage in some retail therapy. Specifically, toothpaste, a bottle of wine, cat litter, and some shelves for the pantry.
That is all. As you were, comrades.
I haven’t gotten anything accomplished this weekend, though I have been busy. I managed to put three coats of paint on an old child’s wardrobe I got from my mom, and it could probably stand a fourth, but that might be beyond my endurance. I’ve got another dresser that I’m going to paint the same color, as well as the dining room chairs. The chairs will also get new denim covers on their seats. The master plan is to put the wardrobe in the kitchen, so that I can put the microwave on it and free up some counter space. I also need to get some shelves that will fit in the kitchen closet, so that I can turn it into a real, live pantry. Right now, I’ve got open utility shelves–ass ugly ones, at that–in the kitchen, and I’m tired of looking at all my crap.
Between putting the aforementioned crap away and getting all the ugly furniture painted in similar colors (or just painted at all), I’m hoping it’ll start looking like I live here, instead of like I’m just here for an extended visit.
And now, I need to go fold laundry. I meant to wash the dog this weekend, but I don’t think that’s going to get done.
I had to work this morning, but left just before the roads got bad. There wasn’t a whole lot of snow, but there was icy-sleety horribleness underneath it, and I didn’t want to be out in it. Which is just as well, because things were not okay in blogland, and if I’d been working all day, I wouldn’t have had time to fix the problem. I really need to upgrade WordPress, but not today, thankyewverymuch!
Somebody else’s work, to be exact. This book cart full of old junk showed up outside my cubicle a few months ago. I won’t be surprised if it’s there a year from now. That’s how things are in Libraryland. I think it belongs to the department head, who is my cube-neighbor. Maybe she’s hoping that if she pushes it in front of my cube and ignores it for long enough, it will magically go away?
This day? A total waste. I took my car in for an oil change and to get the “I think it’s a warped rotor” problem fixed. Only, they hunted high and low and could not find anything wrong with my car. That’s typical, isn’t it? It only makes the rubbing noise when the temperature is below about 15F, so I guess I’m going to have to wait until the weather gets cold again and take my car back in. If it gets that cold again. In the meantime, I’ll try to look on the bright side: less money spent is a good thing, right?
I was so stressed, worrying about how much this was going to cost, that I didn’t get a damned thing done today, aside from walking the dog and loading the dishwasher.
Oh, and to add to my stress level? I got home last night to find another notice from the property manager about people not picking up after their dogs. I really hate tattling on others, but I guess I’m going to have to call tomorrow and let them know that it’s the folks in number 9. Since they also have a fawn Boxer, I don’t want to risk my dog taking the fall for their laziness. And we’re talking serious laziness, here. They stand inside the main door, with their dog’s outside on retractable leashes, so their dogs just squat anywhere–including on the sidewalk right in front of the door–and the owners don’t pick up after them.
Now, I understand that it’s not always fun or convenient to put on your shoes and coat and take your dogs outside, but if you’re going to have dogs, that’s what you’ve got to do. And if you suspect that you might occasionally feel lazy and just want to let your dog out the back door, then you’d damned well better make sure you get a ground floor apartment, preferably one with its own patio. Duh.
There’s nothing quite like taking a macro photo of your skin to make you feel like you need to slather on a gallon of moisturizer.
The maintenance guys came by at about 2pm yesterday. They shouldn’t have needed to get into my apartment, since the leak was in the upstairs shower, and since there was no damage to the ceiling. What did they need to come in for? To caulk my tub. That’s right. The upstairs shower was leaking, so they caulked my tub.
Jeenyous!
I’m hoping they also caulked the upstairs tub, and that they only did mine, too, as a form of sympathetic magic.
Oh, and it took two guys to do the caulking. One–the younger–did the actual work, while the other–a wizened old dude–sat on the closed toilet and supervised. And by supervised, I mean complained about his bad back and made fun of the younger guy’s caulking abilities.
I know, dogs shouldn’t have chocolate. But there wasn’t actually much chocolate in it, and I rinsed it out before giving it to her. This is what’s known as cheap entertainment–for her and for me. I wish the photos of her with her head in the container had turned out, because they were hilarious. Maybe next time.
red paper boat 