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Life in May

Life in May

If I had my way I would live in a temperate region. Someplace where I never needed air-conditioning or a heater. I could open my windows and not worry about crime or bugs.

Life would be free and easy and there wouldn’t be any bills to pay or air-conditioning leaks or massive weird bugs that look like a combination of spider, mosquito, and beetle – something I’ve never before seen. It’s also gnat season in my neck of the woods and it’s driving me bonkers as it does every single year.

Stanley has been in full meltdown for the last two days. I had the six month checkup for my A/C unit yesterday afternoon and they found another leak. I’m getting really tired of spending four figures for repairs on a unit that’s only 12 years old. I replaced the A/C in 2007 and it’s been a pain ever since. They showed up at 8:00 this morning and were here for three hours yesterday afternoon. Stanley went to sleep after they left and didn’t wake up until it was time for bed. Being a guard dog takes a toll on you.

Y’all, the joys of home ownership. Raccoons and leaks, broken water lines, foundation repairs, and the roof blowing off. I have learned never to ask that fateful question, “What’s next?” You never, never say that to the House gods. They don’t like you mocking them. They will send you a plague of locusts or the back patio crumbling.

Sometimes you just have to laugh about this stuff because, in the end it’s not important. It’s just annoying.

The bug, though. The bug was something else. Shudder.

It is to Laugh, Y’all

It is to Laugh, Y’all

They are re-doing my street again. Yep. Again. The last time they did it was pre-2017 and Flash had a fit.

Stanley has taken up the role as Barker in Chief. It’s a tad difficult to think when all you can hear is row-ruff-row-row-row-urf-row for a few hours.

Yesterday they coated the street with oil which meant that the street was closed all day. No one could get to our houses. No Fed Ex. No UPS. No Amazon. No mail. No solicitors. No people telling me that I am not saved. Probably no stray dogs, either. Or dog walkers. No kitty cats crossing the street. No ATV riding idiot child. No chickens (yes, chickens). And remember the time we had a horse?

I guess this is my tax dollars at work, but I thought the street still looked pretty good. When I got the notice last week I thought it applied to other streets in the subdivision, not mine. Well, I was wrong. I should have figured that out when they painted the street in front of my house with a symbol. It probably stands for, “Weird writer here. Annoy her as much as you can.”

I’m off to go through my credenza drawers for those really big noise cancelling earphones I rarely wear in case they start up again today. Come to think of it, the last time I wore them was the last time they re-did the street.

But first…

Pick a number between 1 and 100 and put it in the comments, please. I’ll let you know why later today. 🙂

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?

A Nasty Surprise

A Nasty Surprise

I was watching a report on Seattle this morning when I saw this presentation:

You’ll note that they’re talking about the huge amount of property crimes in Seattle. Did you see the city just below them? San Antonio. We have more property crimes – lots more – than Chicago and New York City.

When I was burgled in 2007 the policeman who responded told me that San Antonio was overrun with property crimes. I guess things haven’t changed in twelve years.

After I saw that graph I went looking for statistics. Be careful of what you look for.

Currently, your chance of being a victim of property crime in San Antonio is 1 in 20. San Antonio also has one of the highest rates of motor vehicle thefts in the country. (Most of those stolen cars end up in Mexico.) We also have, as of March 16, 2019, 3605 sex offenders living in the city.


Here’s the link for sex offenders if you want to look for your neighborhood: http://criminalwatchdog.com/neighborhood-watch/

Well, now I’m depressed that I went in search of information. How’s life in your city?

The Weirdness of Me, Part ?

The Weirdness of Me, Part ?

When I finish a major book I go into several different modes. The first is the Oh my gosh my brain is tired do I really have to do anything intelligent for a little while? Television features prominently in that mode.

Then I segue into the organizational mode. I plot out the next year. I figure out what I want to write, where it fits into my overall plan, and current contracts, and get the whole schedule worked out.

I have an idea for a new book and a novella that I really want to write.

The last stage, prior to beginning a new project is the Clean everything you can think of, even those things that really don’t matter. This might be thought of as the most dangerous stage. If I get too involve in cleaning I can revert to the Exhaustion or the Planning mode.

I’m currently in the Cleaning Mode, heaven help me.

I’ve been going through all the draft posts I have up on my blog. There are currently 97 draft posts. I doubt that I will publish more than ten of those. I get a wild idea and write it, but between the idea and its execution I’ll change my mind. Plus, I constantly edit myself. There are things happening in our world that make me sick to my stomach. I’m terrified at the precedent they set, yet you don’t come here for political or cultural speak. I like to think that this is a mini-oasis from the world around us.

I found a bunch of posts referencing Flash the Wonder Pooch. That’s how long some of them have been there. I was so blessed to have him in my life. I wish he could have been healthier. I certainly tried to make him happy. I think he and Lord Stanley would have been great buddies.

I’ve cleaned my office, which mainly consists of asking myself these questions: Why did you put this here? Why didn’t you put this up? Or why did you buy two dozen of these? (I confess to having a pack rat mentality that I’m trying to stop.)

The top of my desk looks great and I congratulate myself whenever I walk into my office.

I’ve even cleaned the pantry, the refrigerator, and the cupboards. I am edging toward the master bedroom closet, but that is a scary, scary place.

How about you? When you finish something major do you have a routine you follow? What does your master bedroom closet look like? (Mine is kinda/sorta a disaster.)