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I Hate Garbage Day

I Hate Garbage Day

Okay, this is such a first world problem, but I detest a chore I have to do on Wednesdays and Thursdays – schlepping the full garbage container down to the curb and picking up the empty container the next day.

I hate, hate, hate this job because the dang thing is so heavy that it’s almost painful. My back doesn’t like it. My mood doesn’t like it. I get surly when I have to do it. In other words, I’m pretty much a baby about it.

Yesterday it rained like crazy and I didn’t take the container to the curb. I don’t when it rains because it’s slick on the driveway and I don’t want to fall down and go boom. But I could have taken it this morning because it isn’t raining. I’m telling myself that I don’t REALLY need to take the garbage out this week.

Y’all, when I said I was a baby about this, I mean I am a real kicking heels, screaming until face is red, tantrum having baby. I’m not the least bit adult about it. I would rather clean bathrooms all day long than to have to deal with the garbage.

Is there anything you hate to do around the house? Anything you’re kind of a baby about?

This Is a Test – Of Me

This Is a Test – Of Me

I’m not going to say that I see omens everywhere.

Or that I’m superstitious. I’m not.

I’m rather hard headed – as you’ve probably figured out. I don’t give up easily. I’m not going to have a headstone, but if I did it would say: She never gave up.

However, there are times when I think God or the Universe is trying to get my attention.

For example, this morning.

The very nice plumbers are here installing another PRV. Stanley is in his halter, barking like mad (he’s going into the backyard when they come into the house), so working is a little difficult. I have this project I want to finish before January 15th, but it requires a lot of focus.

I don’t have that right now.

So, I wrote this very long blog post that segued into a rant. I was all ranty and foaming at the mouth. I pontificated. I was on my soapbox.

I accidentally erased the whole thing.

I don’t know how I did it. I’m using a different blog editor from WordPress’s default editor so I’m still working out the kinks. I went back, recreated it as well as I could and lost the second version.

That was pretty much a slap in the face.

It was like someone was saying: It’s Karen Ranney, not Karen Ranty.

How much you wanna bet I don’t lose this post? (I didn’t, so message received.)

 

 

How to Know You’re Losing Your Mind

How to Know You’re Losing Your Mind

  1. Hear noises every morning you come into your office. Since you start work before 5:00 AM, this is early, before sunrise.
  2. Stare at the ceiling for several minutes as you listen to the footsteps, scrabbling, and generally sounds you don’t expect in your ceiling.
  3. Talk to your dog about the noises.
  4. Go get the broom and hit the ceiling repeatedly, then the exterior walls, all while discussing the issue with your dog.
  5. Congratulate yourself on your brilliance when the noise stops.
  6. On the second day, hear footsteps, something that sounds like curtain rings sliding across a rod, and strangely enough, the sound of something metallic being dropped.
  7. Repeat #4 for at least ten minutes.
  8. Repeat #5.
  9. On the third day, don’t even talk to the dog. Just get the broom and start banging the hell out of everything. Dog retreats from the room, just in case.
  10. Grab your Amazon Tap, the Alexa speaker that uses batteries, and command it to play marching bands. Turn the speaker up to ear bleed levels and hold the speaker up to the vent.
  11. Realize you have lost your mind and the battle with the varmint. It is merrily running all over the ceiling – which is hard to do since this is a cathedral ceiling.
  12. Give up and call Varmint Masters. They’ll be here tomorrow morning. It’s curtains for you, squirrel or possum or skunk or cat or whatever you are. Okay, maybe not curtains. I don’t want you dead. I just want you gone.
I Am Deeply Sorry…

I Am Deeply Sorry…

… for this picture. I can’t remember where I saw it on the internet.

Note how they describe it as a women’s “sexy” high cut swimsuit? The jury’s still out on that one. 🙂

When the Washer Gives You Lemons

When the Washer Gives You Lemons

This past weekend I did the laundry as I normally do. I use the regular washer for the cotton stuff and the pedestal washer for my intimates.

I opened the pedestal washer, piled all my bras inside, then decided to go ahead and wash the bra I was wearing since I’d gotten myself wet while cleaning the walk in tub.

You know where this is going, right?

The door of the pedestal washer jammed. It wouldn’t start. I honestly think it was my fault. I’m very careful to check the door twice before I slide the pedestal back into position. This time I forgot.

I heard this whirring sound and knew what happened immediately. When I tried to open the washer it wouldn’t budge.

I just stood there and started to laugh. All my bras were in the pedestal washer.  Just to make sure I went into the bedroom and rooted through the drawers. Nope, no bras.

Y’all, this little rose is not the type to go without, shall we say, support.

Since it was Saturday I knew I wouldn’t be able to contact the warranty department. Thank heavens I bought an extended warranty on the little darling. Monday morning I contacted them and, just as I thought, I couldn’t get the LG people here until next week.

Guess who placed an emergency order to Amazon?

It is to laugh.

Has your washer ever eaten your clothes?

EDITED TO ADD PICTURES OF A PEDESTAL WASHER:

A pedestal washer fits beneath a regular washer. You access it by pulling it out, then pushing it back into place before the washer starts. It’s for small loads or hand washed items.




Just in Time to Order for Christmas

Just in Time to Order for Christmas

Don’t ask me how I found this place. I wasn’t actually looking for it, but isn’t that a cute idea for a Christmas present? If I wore socks (I wear tennis shoes that don’t require socks) I’d love a pair of those. I’d immortalize Stanley. Not that he needs to be more front-and-center in my life.

Here’s the company (and they have other cool personalized items): https://www.groovebags.com/products/custom-dog-socks?variant=7690371203138