Part V: The Relapse

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Jan. 1

Thought I went back to smoking, did you? Well, no, not quite... Let's go back to the last time we 'chatted', shall we? The monk was holding the PowerBook hostage behind the couch in an effort to get me to become more conscious of my surroundings. Yeah, right! In a fit of denial I became addicted to Mahjongg. I searched for every reason possible to go to the community computer down in the clubhouse. My typing speed is still a whopping 12wpm, but my mouse accuracy is way up!

The monk (a/k/a T) had to leave for home mid-December. It was an email fest!! I had numerous notes from Teleport (my glorious ISP) that I was way over my disk usage. I had so many responses to send out, so much file cleaning to do that there was no time for the other cleaning. Yep, the old familiar feel of the keys under my fingers, the instant responses, the concern and curiosity of my readers the pull of being jacked in... I feel like I have ISDN lines for veins! Ahhh, access, sweet access...

Jan. 2

Ahhh, yes, the story... well, it wasn't long before T landed in Hawaii and was unable to reach me by phone. Unable to procure his own internet account there he was busted down to USPS, which was unfortunate for me. I got the letter about two hours before his return flight was to land in Portland! Thank heavens I went to the mailbox! His letter was wedged in between the new 1997 Venus catalogue and the VS End-of-Year Clearance catalogue. Begrudgingly, I logged off to go get him. Mind you, not because I don't care for him, but because the sting of no access was still fresh in my mind. I took a deep breath and went to the airport.

It wouldn't have mattered if I had time to get ready (as in dress presentably) because I had not done laundry since before he left. Hey! Christmas was coming and I figured I would be getting some new clothes anyway. Well, aside from all of that I was not expecting him to return so soon anyway. He could tell this from the moment he got off the plane. I was wearing 'the uniform' (a/k/a sweats). When we got to the car it was becoming that all-too-familiar grey. He just shook his head in that all-too-familiar way (anyone who ever attended catholic school or catechism will know this response). Shrinking, I got into the car and drove us home.

Jan. 3

Where were we??? Ahh yes... home. Well, unlike last year Steph had a jump on the Christmas thing. She had taken the initiative to go out to the storage closet and find the surviving Christmas accessories (these are things that survived the so-called 'cleaning' that happened here last March and then my attack on the insensitive jerk downstairs) and brought them inside. She actually managed to get me to go to the store to pick up a tree and she helped me to set it up. Since there was a space to do this it wasn't such a problem. Surviving the year (and last Christmas' clean-up) was the tree stand, one strand of lights and a single small box of decorations. Once we had set up the tree and strung the lights I let Steph have at it with decorating while I (can you guess??) logged on. There was (I thought) a nice balsam scent in the air.

The first thing T said when he came through the front door was "What is that stink smell?" Hmmnn... "you mean the tree?" I ask. He drops his luggage and heads straight for the kitchen garbage. "Ah-HA!" he says as he flings open the cabinet door to reveal all sorts of refuse mixed together. "Forget how to recycle?" he asks. I felt about two inches tall, not even tall enough to reach my PowerBook (which was the recipient of his snake eyes). For safety's sake, I unplugged it and took it to my room.

Jan. 4

And so it went. For weeks now I have heard the monk muttering to himself "what is that stink smell?" He sniffs around looking for some elusive olfactory offender. Me, I don't smell it. Neither does Steph, so I know it's not just me. He seems possessed. Maybe he is. It was a nice holiday though, as I hope was yours as well.

Jan. 5

We had to work out our access differences (an inevitability, mind you, which I did meet head on). Since I did not have very much warning of T's return (some would fault me for staying on-line, others would fault him for not finding access) I addressed this issue right at the airport, before we even left the terminal. This, of course, was brought on by an "I have been TRYING to call you all week!" I asked him why he didn't email me, he replied that he couldn't get access. Which brought me to THIS "So, speaking of access... " I had all the chips, as I was holding the car keys. Thus, here I am on-line :)

Jan. 6

It probably took him a week to get things back in shape (after all, he was only gone a short time). For the most part he would walk around the house muttering "JUNK!" to himself whenever he came across something he wanted to recycle. I pretty much let him have his way, as I was preoccupied with my webbing. What's new? By the time Christmas came one could actually tell where the tree was; the stuff under it really looked like presents! It was a holiday which reminded me of the 'old days'.

Not like we are in a time warp or anything though. Mind you, my next door neighbor ran into me the day after Christmas and lodged his disappointment that I did not decorate outside this year. I didn't spray the outside (read: brown) arborvitae white again. I didn't have outdoor lights or garland thanks to the 'cleaners' and the jerk downstairs. Christmas stayed indoors this year.

Jan. 7

Not that it stayed for long. T was anxious to get the remnants of Christmas recycled, boxed, packed and put away. It was probably the couch that got to him. The tree was in the way of it being pulled out to a bed, so no doubt that he was getting a bit cramped and sore. It reflected in his mood.

Increasingly I heard "Junk!" or T sniffing loudly, searching for 'that stink smell'. We have yet to find it, but it is causing a whole bunch of things to be attended to around here. Not by me, of course! The only thing I have cleaned up are these pages!

Jan. 8

I guess I should mention that Steph went to spend the holidays with her Dad. He picked her up right after noon on Christmas Day and kept her the rest of vacation. This was fine with Steph and me. I mean, I get to eat cold beans from a can (HEY! No dishes!) and Whoppers (my way, of course) and she gets to open even more presents. What kid wouldn't enjoy that? Conveniently, she also gets to waltz out of here just before having to put away all of her Christmas gifts.

Like I would do it for her?? No way! She came home the other day to everything exactly as she left it. She is still attempting to create order in the entropy that is her room. You know me! I just shut the door...

Jan. 9

Steph seems to have cleared a path through her room. T had retrieved some of the plants from outside to try to save them from frost. In doing so we (I use the term we reluctantly) had to make room for them. This was actually the deciding factor in what we refer to around here as Grinching (undecorating). Not that the plants didn't seem too far gone already, but my next door neighbor apparently got a hold of T and bent his ear for a little while (about enough to cause him to assure the neighbor that something would be done to remedy the dying plant situation). In came the dying plants, out went the Christmas tree in less than an hour!

I was willing to let the plants occupy the space that the tree just vacated; T would not have it! He offered to move all the furniture by himself in order to get a good night's sleep. Like I was going to argue! In the process he found my cymbidium (an orchid plant) behind the couch. It is about to blossom! 9 orchids! I was amazed, I was excited, I conceded to let him read 'The Competitor's Journal'.

All I can say is "Pshaw..." The 'Competitor' seems to think he was the very first person to put a journal on-line and further insinuated that (paraphrase) 'innovation breeds numerous, inferior imitators.' Can you say "SpellCheck?" 'Nuff said.

Week of Jan 10-17th

Yes, a weekly update. Sorry for the format change but things have become a bit busier than usual around here. Not that much cleaning is getting done (Well, not by me!) but time seems to be a rare commodity. Just a formality but from here on in we are going to be updating once weekly, most likely Fridays (do not hold me to this).

So lemme bring you up to speed here... My ingenious houseguest had managed to procure some pink 'Country Gardens' scented Toilet Duck (who thinks this stuff up?) and squirted it into the toilets and sinks in both of the bathrooms. Well, two days after he purchased it and placed it on the kitchen counter. First day it lived on the counter (I noticed it). Second day it moved to the counter in Steph's bathroom (I noticed it moved.) The third day it was squirted all over and I mistook it for the mold that grows in the bathrooms if left unattended for too long. I sort of washed everything down the drain and flushed it (hoping it would go away). T asked me what happened to the bathroom and I said "Oh, I guess it was getting out of hand in there so I gave it a quick rinse." He suggested next time I use a sponge and spread the cleaner around a little. Wisenheimer.

I am spending quite a bit of time on computers but very little time on line. Not exactly the way I like it, but at this point T has got me moving from terminal to terminal to get the various tasks at hand done. I do my emailing and on-line stuff sitting at the Mac on the table. I do my journal entries on Steph's computer in the corner and the book on the clubhouse computer downstairs for a change of scenery. There are ups and downs to everything. I am sharing access so I don't get to be at the dining room table much. I can only be on the clubhouse computer when the resident game monger isn't hogging it to time himself at some stupid UFO game (I mean, really... GET A LIFE!). This leaves me at Steph's computer, the ol' i286 in the corner. Yep, the very corner which was a mushroom patch this time last year. T eradicated all the fungus this summer (when the PowerBook had to go out 'on call') and put a mat (you know those office mats that allow office chairs to roll around carpeted areas) down on the stained area where the mushrooms, wet catalogues and other things left their mark on my living room floor.

I mention this because it is winter (warning! rant to follow) and this corner (if you remember) is right next to the sliding glass doors. OK, I'll keep this light... remember how last year everyone (and I mean everyone) gave me pajamas for Christmas? Little shortie babydoll useless summer pjs in the dead of winter? Well, this year when they all asked me what I wanted I asked everyone for the same damned thing; no-skid socks. You know the kind, Totes makes 'em. Keds even makes 'em. They cost $1.98/pair and that is all I asked for. Let's face it, socks are a valuable and necessary commodity around here!

Vanilla. All I got was vanilla everything! Vanilla candles, vanilla moisturizer, vanilla bath soap, vanilla sachets, vanilla drawer liners... I HATE VANILLA!! I do not like the taste of it, the smell of it, the thought of it makes me gag. You would think they all conspired. Did I get the damned socks?? NOT ONE PAIR!

The reason I bring this up is because it gets really cold here over in the corner by the sliding glass doors (where ice forms on the inside of the windows) and I sure could use a pair of socks. In lieu of socks I have been piling up my Venus and Victoria's Secret catalogs. I stand on them as a sort of insulation between my feet and that harsh cold plastic mat. They are somewhat slippery though and I have learned not to bring the hot tea over here (the hard way, but better saved for another entry, as my feet are cold already).

Week of Jan 18-25

Yes, the tea...well, here is the thing. I am very particular about my tea; I like it hot. I am more of a tea person than a coffee person but I indulge in the coffee in the morning just because the morning is, well, difficult. I am one to drink foo-foo coffee ( like chocolate macadamia or Swiss mocha) but T drinks really adult coffee; Malabar AA, Kona, Tanzanian Peaberry. I have to pour about 1/4 cup of sugar into these things in order to choke them down. T suggested I try the coffee "the right way" (which damned near killed me). As I would try to hack this stuff down I got desperate. It sort of reminded me of the old survival techniques I employed in my youth when my mother would try to feed me liver. Get your walking sticks, we are about to take a stroll down memory lane...

When I was a kid my mom used to try to feed me liver. To this day I hate liver and refuse to listen to anyone who insists my tastebuds have probably changed. Trust me, they have not! Anyway, we had this cat, Moses (named for the white beard he had, he was a really beautiful and powerful Maine Coon with traditional markings). Moses really liked liver. This worked out fine since I did not and my mom had this rule about not being able to leave the kitchen until my dinner was finished. Over the years we had gone through all the ploys; I would chew the liver and spit it in my napkin to sneak it in the garbage but my mom would check the garbage. I would chew it and hold it in my mouth and ask to go to the bathroom to spit it into the toilet but my mom wouldn't let me go to the bathroom until dinner was done. I learned to procrastinate long enough until Star Trek came on; my mom always excused herself from the kitchen to go watch Captain Kirk save the universe. An hour later she would come back and inspect the kitchen.

When I learned Moses liked liver I was ecstatic! My mother used to make sure he was in the living room with her so I wouldn't feed my liver to him but I found a way around this. I used to slide the kitchen window open just enough to drop the liver out and then slide it back again, usually to the cover of phasor fire. The cat would immediately start scratching at the front door like there was some dire kitty emergency and my mom would let him out at the first commercial break. I would choose that time to tell her that my dinner was done so she could 'inspect' the kitchen during the commercial break as well. This usually meant a short inspection (since inevitably the show would start again) and she would be satisfied that the liver was eaten, sure that I was beginning to enjoy it. The cat loved when my mother made liver!!

There was a reason I took you down Memory Lane. Survival instincts never die, they just lay dormant until needed again. That is what seemed to happen with the coffee situation. I couldn't sit there at the PowerBook and fake like I was enjoying this unsweetened lava, excuse me, Java, without going into survival mode. I mean, I didn't want to hurt T's feelings but there was no way I was going to drink this stuff! I decided to move operations to the computer in the corner and (when no-one was looking) pour the coffee into a nearby plant. Unfortunately, that plant was my cymbidium, the beloved orchid. HEY! If it can't survive Kona, why should I??? T was not too impressed when he discovered what was going on. Yes, my plant died but at least T has conceded to let me drink coffee the way I like it. At least now I can return to the comfort of the beloved PowerBook.

Earlier this month one of the first things I did was return all that miserable vanilla stuff and attempt to procure socks. None. Nowhere. It would seem that not a single store anywhere had these socks, and all the salesclerks in Oregon seem to think I invented this 'idea'. I found this situation very frustrating. I mean, not only was I forced to log off for extended periods of time to sit in my overwhelmingly vanilla scented car (yes, the pervasive smell was permeating through the various types of packaging) to return this stuff, but I also found it unbelievably frustrating trying to locate the beloved socks.

I went to Target. I brought the monk with me and hoped he would help in the search. Instead he purchased some wastebasket sized pink floral scented garbage bags. Lucky me. I would have preferred pink no-skid socks! I came home to the phone ringing. It was my buddy Kim. She made the mistake of asking how my day was (read: she was entitled to a rant) and when it was all said and done she said "Oh, I have some of those I got for Christmas one year, I never use them. Do you want them?" Soon. enough she was on her way over with the beloved socks, three pair, all mine!! I was so happy I actually chatted at her for a little while without the PowerBook between us!

Later that evening I went over to the corner where Steph's computer resides. I was going to update my journal in comfort while wearing my new warm no-skid socks. I was busily typing away when I decided to get more hot tea (jasmine, thank you). I almost died; my socks stuck to the plastic mat!!! Apparently there is sap coming off one of my plants that has caused a major sticky mess in the last few weeks. I hadn't noticed it but it seemed to like the plastic no-skid stuff on the bottom of my socks! Oh well, one down, two to go. HEY! that's why I wear socks around here!!!

Week of Jan 26-31

I was more than happy to just step out of the socks and leave them there, stuck to the mat. Not T! Oh no, there is a problem here and it needs to be fixed! I didn't see a problem; the socks weren't going anywhere, I had other socks and the sap producing plant would go outside as soon as it was warm enough to survive out there. Wrong! I guess that as soon as one is aware there is a problem it should be attended to. Like I said, what problem? T asked how many other people I knew had socks sticking out of their floor. So move the plant so they are hidden... Yep! Had to log off... sheesh!

This is because T got 'stuck' to the mat as well. He was not finding it humorous that I leave the socks stuck to the mat so he went over to tear them off the mat but in stepping on the mat discovered just how sticky this sap is. My question is, why did this plant take four years to decide to drop sap anyway? Probably to make sure it was securely endeared first (kinda like kids, no?). Anyway, I had to log off to help pry T's sneakers off the mat. He was not happy. It came down to a soaking thing.

In the meantime we settled on a decision to make sure that this would not be an issue again; I offered to take the plant up to my new office in Sandy (our office moved to a larger location and was looking sort of barren). This was a great idea until we got down to the car with the plant. It had grown substantially; as in, it just didn't fit. At least, it didn't fit in the back seat. It was spilling over the front seats as well (not a difficult feat in a Toyota Corolla) and was sort of sticking to everything. The leaves are sticky. Maybe it is in mating season or something? Sounds strange, I know. My aunt has the two oldest gingko trees in America in her front yard (a gift from the at that time emperor of China to Ralph Waldo Emerson) and every spring they 'mate' and give off a horrible smell when they pollinate. Maybe my plant is doing something similar. Anyway, it survived the stay in the car overnight and came with me to work the next day.

I needed help hauling the thing out of the car just as I needed help getting it into the car. One of my office mates came out to the car to help me unload the plant and noticing the big gauge on the hood of my car asked what happened to the car. As I recounted the incident with the neighbor's cat and the fire dept. her eyes grew wide; I had no idea she was one of those 'kitty people'. Of course one look at her desk would have told me; she has all those kitty note pads and kitty calendars and kitty coffee mugs, etc... Yep! I love the taste of shoe leather!!! We had a little difficulty getting the plant into the office with my foot firmly implanted in my mouth, but at least there is room in the car again.

Week of Feb. 1-7

Not like the mat wasn't still an issue, oh no!! Things don't just go away in my home, nope, not that easy!! I get home from the office and T is kneeling down on the carpet just next to the mat with his face really close inspecting something (those coke-bottle glasses don't really come in handy up close, he has to peer over them). I say hello and ask what's up, he replies I have a dry rot problem; the flooring under the carpet is going he thinks. Not like I care, mind you, but he also points out that since it was sunny he has raised the blinds and I have all this ugly black mold growing on the inside of the windowsills. I knew there was a reason I didn't raise the blinds!! I tell him not to worry about it; after all, it's not like I own the place, I am moving in June. He lowers the blinds and turns on the kitchen light.

I should point out that the overhead kitchen light has not worked in about a month, since the last maintenance guy came by to 'fix' it. It is one of those long fluorescent tube fixtures with two bulbs and for the past month they have merely flickered a grey light. This is only an issue since I prefer not to allow natural light in because it shows all the imperfections in my home. Not with the New, Improved recycling version of Felix Unger living under my roof!! I mention the light to the office while I am handing over my rent check. A move I regretted the next day...

I am downstairs on the clubhouse computer updating my pages via disk (hey, the mat is still sticky until I attend to it!) and decide to take a break for lunch. I go upstairs and make one of T's favorites, Joe's beans (a minimum of preparation required). It is 2:30pm (kinda late, little hungry here), we are just about to sit down to lunch when there is a bang on the door. It is the maintenance guy holding two bulbs; he barges right in announcing that he is going to fix the light. I never got a word in edgewise or I would have asked him to come back after lunch. Too late anyway. Just as the thought was crossing my mind one of the light bulbs rolled off the kitchen counter and exploded; not just all over the kitchen but sending shards of glass and fluorine gas all over the dining room (read: our lunch) and into the living room. I was impressed.Not!!

You guessed it; Gomer runs out to get a vacuum and returns with a broom (hello?) and says "There ! I fixed your light and swept your floor real good!" T was ready to pounce; all of his puniness amasses to some real might when he gets riled. Gomer just left chatting on his walkie-talkie like there was some other dire emergency that required his immediate and expert attention. Standing amidst the glass, powder, etc... I suggested we go to Burger King for Whoppers (our way, of course!). I believe T must have been hornswoggled because, much to my surprise, he said OK. We left the mess and headed off to Burger King.

I guess I do not have a Fairy Godmother or the mess would have been all cleaned up when we got home. This feat of pure genius cost me hours of business time. I did not get the rest of my computer stuff done, so I wasted the day off from work cleaning of all things!! That glass was in the toaster, the coffee pot, the stove, the plants, the carpet, etc... but it didn't really hit home until, after a few hours of cleaning T allowed me to take a break to log on. There was glass in my PowerBook! That did it for me; I was steaming. Next time I see Gomer I am going to give him a New York piece of my mind! I went down to the office to let them know that I was underwhelmed by the 'service' I received and their response was "It has been a bad day all around". Oh? Let's see how bad it can get! You know my credo...!

Week of Feb. 8-15

T is off in Convalescent City this week, leaving me at home to my devices. One might think I chose to spend the week jacked in. Fair assumption. As if having to clean my kitchen wasn't enough, the damned light is not working again. It just flickers a sort of grey glow. Not that I mind that it camouflages the mudtracks on the kitchen floor well, just that it is difficult to see in there. I was especially annoyed by this because my ISP was down for two days and my access was limited. As in, I got phone calls. The one that comes to mind is my mother's call telling me she would be here Mar 8th. Uh-oh... Well, at least the kitchen is clean (I think). I got on the phone to the rental office and asked them to have the light fixed again. Hey! That's what the phone is for!! I am not sure if it is in my best interest for me to be home for this or not. Having no access, I gave up trying to log on and went down to the hot tub to try to relax. I invited Kim to come over to enjoy time with me away from the computer. I was already down in the tub when she came by, Steph had just returned home from school, both arriving at the door at the same time as the other maintenance guy. Kim came down to the tub, Steph opted to supervise the repair job. It was done with no shenanigans.

When we returned upstairs we removed most of our wet outer shells by the front door and I flipped off my flip flops (a/k/a slippers in Hawaii) - that's why they call 'em flip flops - and one flipped over the couch. Instead of insisting I would remember where it was for next time I looked behind the couch to retrieve it and discovered a plant back there. At Christmastime I had taken a ceramic pot with what looked like the stick remains of my grapevine and put it behind the couch when I was preparing to set up the tree. I figured I would get around to attending to it sooner or later. Well, it is a plant again!! I lifted it out from behind the couch to exclaim "Look! The grape came back!" and my joy was squashed instantaneously. Steph went white and groaned "Oh, I was hoping to save that one". Kim just looked at both of us then asked Steph what she meant. Steph said she knew about the plant but was hiding it in hopes to give it a chance to live, strategically looking over at my cymbidium. OK! 'Nuff said. I put the plant back behind the couch. Sheesh!

Week of Feb. 16-23

Just as I suspected, the kitchen light still refuses to work. I have no explanation for this, nor has the rental office. I finally said "Hey, it has been over 5 years and every part in that fixture has been swapped out; why don't we just call it dead and replace it?" Sooner or later they are supposed to come in and fix it (and I use the term loosely) but that is the least of my worries. The PowerBook and I seem to be having a labor dispute, as in, I want it to work, it doesn't want to work. It too is over 5 years old. I am not yet ready to swap it out though. I have been dealing with this dilemma all week, as I am not in a position to just 'fix' it. Oy. This has given me time to attend to other issues, like my mom's upcoming visit.

First I sent Steph in to clean her room. She has two weeks and the countdown has begun. So far she has cleared a path from her door to the far wall of her room. Having completed that project, she promptly excavated her new bicycle out of the heap at the other end of the path and took it downstairs to ride. Hmmnn... I was too busy with my own project to notice; I had been busily cutting things out of magazines, etc... and pasting them to the refrigerator. I figured the last thing I needed was a maintenance guy with too much time on his hands to notice my refrigerator (nail polish and all) and, as if his comments weren't enough, my mother's critique d'art. Oy! Only some of the pictures are sticking...

Feb. 24-Mar. 2

The refrigerator refurbishment project has come to a grinding halt. It wasn't too long before it occurred to me that there are only three types of publications in my home; Venus Swimwear catalogues, Victoria's Secret catalogues and various computer catalogues. Though it might be a great diet motivator, I do not really relish the idea of scantily clad babes and computer hardware all over my fridge. I stopped to think about other people's refrigerators and what they looked like. OK, disqualified. But if I could sort of disguise that large box-like thing in the kitchen to look like a fridge... Steph was not really in a mood to rummage through her closet (the precursor to cleaning it out) and was procrastinating all around me. Instead of getting on eachother's nerves I decided to get her to help me with the project. I asked her to draw some 'refrigerator art' for me. This was probably the best idea I had all month! She was more than happy to cooperate and I was able to go log onto the ol' i286 to clean out my mailbox. Things just aren't the same with a text only browser...sheesh!

The only good thing about this whole scenario is that there is more light over in that part of the house. I used to be really dependent on the kitchen light when I sat at the dining room table to surf on the PowerBook. Since the PowerBook is broken I don't care that I have no light in my kitchen! At least that would appear to be the logic the maintenance staff around here is using. God Forbid I need to cook or read instructions or something in order to feed my child and company. At this point I am preparing meals by the light of day or (as you probably guessed by now) going to Burger King for Whoppers (my way, of course!!).

Mar. 2-8

This is it, the final crunch. My mother is due here tomorrow, and my home is, well, normal. I guess I should mention that at least Steph's room is in better shape than the rest of the house. I spent the entire week hounding her to pick up her room, straighten up her room, clean her room, pick up that pigsty, all the things moms say when they are trying to coerce a child to do something that remotely resembles a chore. To little avail. To Steph's credit there is a path through her room, but that is merely to get her bike in and out of there to go riding. Hmmnn... Oh well, here it comes. I have to go pick my mom up at the airport tomorrow. I have spent most of my 'free' time this week removing things (read: garbage) from the car in order to make room for another passenger and luggage. As long as she doesn't pack stuff for a month we will be OK. Well, in a relative sense... after all, this is a visit from Mom. You'll have to wait a week to find out if we survived the ordeal!

Mar. 9-16

I survived. Why is it that parents of adult children forget that their children are now adults? I ask this rhetorical question because I am hoping someone can answer this one for me. It has been over 16 years since I have been home and you would have to wonder how I susrvived if not by my own accord. OK, maybe the ol' homestead was a bit of a shock to mom at first (she threatened to check into a hotel and take my daughter with her) but she 'worked with it' as the week progressed. Mostly because Steph refused to go to a hotel (likely caused by her inability to pack a suitcase since, last time anyone saw it, it was in her as-of-yet-uncleaned closet) but probably because she realized that the couch she was going to stay on was about the cleanest corner of the house, thanks to T. After a few hours of complaint she 'got with the program' and spread her belongings all over the clearing in Steph's room. I believe she had one bag just for toiletries since they were all over Steph's bathroom in no time. Poor Steph had no counter space whatsoever for a week. At least now I think she has a better appreciation for her own bathroom (because golly-gosh, it is clean!!).

I guess it was all the usual parent/child stuff coming into play; I would attempt to cook dinner, she would tell me how (like I have been starving for over 16 years)... though annoying she cited the ubiquitous Burger King bags as justification for her beliefs. Like I said, she got with the program really fast... all in all it was a good trip but I am glad it is over. The saddest part is that T left the day after she got here and it has been really quiet ever since. I doubt I'll be cleaning anytime soon!!

Short week? Oh yes! I am on my way to Hawai'i here folks! It has been way too quiet here in the house, what with T gone and now my mom gone as well. Steph finally folded up the pull-out couch yesterday. She had become rather used to laying across it to read but the lightbulb in the lamp behind the couch blew out making it too dark to read over there now. Not that I am in any hurry to change that lightbulb... I do all my webbing in the dining room. As I gaze across the expanse of carpeting where the couch had been pulled out it sort of gives me the impression of, well, space, as in clean. Kinda makes me feel as though T is still here, though I know by the quiet that he is not. Mind you, he is a very quiet man. He doesn't say much, merely conveys thoughts by looks (you know the kind). Even Steph has commented on how quiet the house is without him. Sort of paradoxical, eh? Steph is going to go ride some horses this week for Spring Break and I am going to jet off to sunny Hawai'i. Aloha!!

Mar. 22-31

Apr. 1-7

Lemme tell you one reason why I do not clean. It is something that does not last. Even my best efforts to keep things in check sort of gets out of hand immediately. Take my refrigerator. I was attempting to do some trouble shooting by emptying out the vegetable bin. Unfortunately I was running late when Da Gish came by to take me to the airport. Result? I forgot to take out the garbage. Of course there was an unexpected break in the clouds during my absence (well, they followed me!) and the closed up house got hot and... I was greeted by an old, familiar smell. Nothing like the plumeria I was enjoying while in Honolulu. As you can guess, it is cold and rainy now so I can't air the place out. Sheesh!

©1996 Loredana Olson