"In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."

I don't recall ever having such Spring Fever as I have this year. There's something about seeing the fruits of your labor grow and bloom in all their glory.

I had the idea to find different "window boxes" or in my case "porch boxes" at various thrift stores. I made some wonderful finds, with the help of a friend, and have been potting different flowers and plants in them for the past couple of weeks.  It took a lot of spray paint and patience, but today I was finally ready to hang them all.  Dad helped, of course, because without him, I'm not sure I'd get anything accomplished. Thanks Dad!

Front porch:

Small green box in the center of the railing. Bleeding Hearts at the foundation. LOVE!

Coral box on left. Yellow mailbox right center. Pallet box bottom right. Hydrangea bottom right at foundation. LOVE!!

Side (south) porch:

Back (fence) area:

Found these rubber boots at Salvation Army, poked holes in the bottom, filled with dirt and Voila! 

I found everything but the plants at thrift stores. OH! And then there's this:

It's a newspaper roller for fireplaces. There's a handle, which I had to remove, that will roll newspapers nicely to use when making fires. Best find with the help of my friend. 

I'm working on a new paint project for a neighbor friend up the street. I haven't gotten any farther than transferring the letters to the painted wood, but my goal is to have it done by the Antique Walk, which is fast approaching. So maybe not...

The Whyte house

And now, as I type "The Whyte house" I think the H in house should be capitalized. Damn. I had it that way and then thought, Nope, I need smaller case letters. But now. Yah. Capital it is. Sometimes all it takes is a step away to realize what looks right and what doesn't. 

I have my job interview with the City today for the Deputy City Clerk position. It's a job I've wanted ever since finding out the City Clerk was retiring July 2018, the deputy would presumably become the clerk and the deputy position would be open. I'm happy I got an interview (11 people applied, whittled down to 4). I'm generally not too nervous during interviews, but this one feels different. Maybe because I actually want it. Maybe because these people "think" they know me already so it's a bit different atmosphere than going in cold. Maybe because I really, really, really don't want to come across as a dumbass and fear that I will. Maybe because I don't feel "good" enough. 

I'm just doing what I always do, which is read through the job description, my resume, cover letter and application, my answered interview questions and various recommendations I've received previously. I realized today, I should read those recommendations daily because they're glowing and I actually believe those people thought those things about me and so they're a nice boost to my ever-declining-self-esteem. 

My interview isn't until 6PM this evening so I have all day to not think about it. :)

"The bad news is time flies...the good news is, you're the pilot."

A week in pictures.  

School coming down

Deer 1, Amy 0 (because the damn deer lived!)

Cute(?) couple

Celebrated Chris' 50th b'day w/ Mom & Dad Friday night - Quilt Mom made him (now at his house, dammit).

Mexicans took down Chris' dead tree.  Then they did this with their truck. 

Chris got a quilt - I got an awesome box(?)/ stand from Dad (see below)

It's perfect! 

Celebrating Chris' actual b'day with him Wednesday night/Thursday morning, when I'll give him this.  Not great, but not too bad.  Still needs a glaze covering (tonight). 

All I got time for folks!  More to come later!!

There are no words....

for how sore I am.

JK!  I'm happy! Ecstatic! Blissful!

Haiku

See G'pa Phil top-center?

The rest of the house (upstairs, basement, closet) aren't finished and I won't show you the wreck they're in.  But here's the thing - I'm ok with it!

So. Damn. Happy.  Love of my life....

I can't. I just can't. Do anymore. I'm done.

Friday - Ben's basement room. That's dust flying around. That we sucked into our lungs. Nice.

Friday - Ben's living room. Had to hang the blinds ourselves because the contractor's an asshat. 

Porch - no work done but look at how clean it is! Will never look like this again. 

Bathroom - Saturday. Hung 2 towel rods & toilet paper holder.

Saturday. Built t.v. stand for the boys' room.   Also hung a shitload more blinds. 15 total that day.

Sunday - Built the 16-year-olds closet. We. Are. So. Good.

Sunday - finally hung the punching bag I bought Friday night. That's Woody, Shan's hubby.

Not only that, I had to buy a new faucet for my bathroom because I only had a trickle of water coming out.  I knew it was the faucet because that's what was wrong with the kitchen faucet, which Dad replaced this summer.  I thought I'd be able to replace it myself, but no. I'm a wimpy girl and couldn't even loosen up the nuts on the old one to remove it.  Nothing more demeaning than realizing how weak you are and that you really do need a man around the house. Hate that.  So Woody (seen above) replaced the faucet Sunday.  Then I had a slight drip so he had to come over again tonight and replace the water lines with flex-hose....because, again, I couldn't loosen the damn nuts.

Good thing I got that punching bag.

Keep Calm and Find a Yard Sale - or Mom's Closet

Whoo hoo! Shopping brought to you today by Mom's Closet!

Obviously not the Lucky sign. Who would ever give that away?!? The stars, box, hanger, tree/pic frame.

 I have no idea where I'm going to put any of this...but I know I'll find a place! Or maybe not...I haven't found a place, yet, for the Lucky sign. I was thinking above a door?

Rug - Nice

Clothes, clothes & more clothes! 3 prs of jeans, 3 prs of capris, 3 coats, countless shirts!

After trying on the jeans & capris, I thought, "Maybe I should get rid of my size 3 capris. I think it's time to face up to the truth....I'll never see size 3 again...unless I get violently ill every day for a week. Then, maybe."  I swore (to myself) I'd not get rid of my jeans or capris or shorts that are now too small because I think, "What if I lose a bunch of weight? What if I get put on another stupid drug that makes me too nauseous to eat? Then I'll want those too-small-clothes." So, I'll compromise - I'll get rid of the capris I didn't really like anyway...but no jeans and no shorts. I've already boxed up all my jeans and my shorts so they're staying where they're at....until I need them again.

And the piece de resistance (say it French-like)

Very old scale & new cutting board!

This scale was my Dad's grandmother's...so my great-grandmother's. Mom said she weighed us kids on it when we were babies. My little tooshy was on that scale! Not today...Today I'd break it. Still....very cool.

And not to leave out Garfield:

Her new little Home-Sweet-Home - like she doesn't have 50 already.

She's busting it at the seams! 

Good thing the "roof" is velcroed to the base.

I don't know why, but every time I go shopping at Mom's Closet, it just makes my day. Probably because it's totally free and there's no pressure (except Mom saying, "Take it! Take it all!) and I can try on the clothes at home, in my closet and know I don't have to "take anything back". My mom has great taste....

From Garfield & Me (& Elvis, because when I'm happy, Elvis is happy), Thanks Mom!

"The best way to keep your friends from borrowing your stuff is to have crappy stuff." -Maxine

I think we all know how much I love my little brother. I'd do anything for him. Maybe it's because I treated him so poorly when he was a kid and I was in my horrid teenage years, though he did cry when I left home (probably from relief). Or maybe because in my first round of "I think alcohol might run out so I better drink it all right-freaking-now" I called him incessantly. He was in the Navy. He told me to stop calling him so much. So the next round of "my body will cease to exist without alcohol" I learned my lesson and called him less...I still called him. Of course I did. Just less. I've been his chauffer. I've helped him move. I've kenneled his dogs. I've tried to make him laugh. I've let him crash at my house. What isn't there I would do for him? Nothing. Flat out nothing. If he called me, frantic because he's got a dead body in the trunk of his car, I'd more than likely help him bury it and hide the evidence. We'd be cellmates.

So I love him. Plain & simple.

But I don't know how the hell he's become the pig that he is.

I know we didn't grow up this way. I explain Mom's house as "always ready for visitors, even though nobody ever comes over". That's how I grew up. That's how I live. My house is always presentable. I don't leave shit lying around. Everything has a place and there's a place for everything.

*sigh*

It wears me out to go to his house.

His girlfriends mom is dying. She's in hospice. In Arkansas. So the whole clan drove down there last night. I'm going over twice a day to take care of the dogs & cat. I went last night and it took me about an hour to clean the cat's litter box. I wonder if the girlfriends daughter knows what that scoop thing next to the litter box is for? Geez. Poor cat. I'd bring her home with me but I'm pretty sure Garfield would eat her.

And just shit everywhere. Everywhere.

This morning, I couldn't take it anymore and cleaned the kitchen. I took out the trash and found a paper plate turned upside down on the floor. Picked it up and it was caked with syrup. So, syrup on the floor anyone? And I put dishes away out of the dishwasher so I could put the dirty ones in. How hard is that to do? I swept the floor. Took me two seconds. I wiped down the hutch in the dining room, the coffee table & end tables in the living room and there's a laundry basket full of what looks like trash in the living room but there was also a new box of Swiffer stuff in there too so I left it alone. I'll tackle that tonight. I emptied the two overflowing ashtrays and cleaned up his porch.

I could spend days doing this and I haven't even touched the bathroom. They need a maid and I think her name is Amy.

Though I get grossed out pretty easily so tonight I'm taking my rubber gloves with me to wear while I'm cleaning. I mean, I can't keep washing my hands every two seconds. They're going to run out of soap. And that's the other thing! They don't have any kitchen towels! Which is probably a good thing because they'd all be dirty & caked with food so best to use paper towels.

I kept talking to the dogs the whole time - "How do people live like this?" "I don't even want to know what that is." "Ugh, Gross!" I'd like to take over that damn house for a week and then set up rules for them to live by. And if they didn't, they'd owe me $100.

LOL.

I get it. I do. Not everybody is like me. I'm not even that clean...but I do hate shit lying around everywhere. I like things to look nice even if they aren't.

And they have 3 kids, 3 dogs and a cat. And my brother is a boy. Boys are just less clean. They care less about appearances. I care about not feeling like I need a bath every time I sit down somewhere.

There. That's my rant for the day. He has a lovely house. Really. It's beautiful. Somebody just needs to show that...and that somebody's me.

And what a good deed I'm doing for the family, who's going through a really hard time. I can't imagine losing my mom. I'll never be ready for that day. It'll be too traumatic. In fact, I've told my brother he might as well lock me up in a rubber room for a week when it happens. It'll be unbearable. So, I want them to come home to a clean house and not have to worry about putting dishes away or sweeping the floor or putting clothes away or any of that other shit....No, what they'll spend their time doing is looking for all the shit I've put away. Bwahahahahahaha.

"I don't like loud music....but neither do my neighbors, so it's worth it." -Maxine

*sigh* Here I sit in my own home with ear plugs jammed into my ears, my television cranked so I can hear it properly and so it'll annoy my neighbors (doubtful....I wonder if anything annoys them?), my fan running....anything to create noise to drown out their noise. I hate inconsiderate people.

My younger brother asked me, a few days ago, to go over to his place this morning to help him move his outdoor furniture to his deck. I was happy to do so! I figured I'd take 15 minutes to help him, then run to Salvation Army to find a new crappy mowing T-shirt. Perfect. So, I got up, bathed, even put makeup on (because if I'm going to do a little, I might as well go all out - and who knows who you'll run into at Salvation Army?) and ventured to his place.

Yeah. I don't know what it is about my immediate family but they tend to leave out details so a person can't properly plan anything. Hellllloooooooo! I'm a sweater! I literally can stand still and drip sweat. My arm pits stink up my clothes. When I was getting my Master's degree, it got really, really bad. I went to the doctor. He prescribed me some roll-on shit that I had to cover with seran wrap every night (that did not last!), so yeah, I have a sweating problem. If you've ever noticed, I'm rarely in a situation where my arms are down by my sides. That's because I sweat! And when I sweat, my clothes get wet. And when my clothes get wet, I stink! Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhh! And come on. If I'd known I was going to be doing what I ended up doing, I would not have bathed. I would have thrown on a hat, a pair of sweatpants and the crappiest T-shirt I own AND a pair of goddamn crappy shoes.

On a side note: I have finally found a deoderant that semi-works, after how many years of trial & error? Seventeen years, give or take?!? Yeah. 17-fucking-years I've been like this. It's Secret Clinical Gel, btw.

Not that I mind helping my brother. I'd drop & do anything for him. I just wish I'd known. Why is it so hard for my family to get that?

Anywhoo, I get there - we move his patio furniture & grill to the deck. And oh, yeah, by the way, we need to move the "I-weigh-a-ton" computer armoire to the garage (his g'friend wanted it in the basement. Yeah, not gonna happen). I only had to stop 5 or 6 or 7 times on the way to the garage to get my grip back. And then we had to move her son's bed down to the basement and his bureau into the other boys room and Oops, the bed doesn't fit down the stairs so lift, turn, pull back, take apart and away we go! And of course, I couldn't just leave things the way they were so let's rearrange the garage and move the box of basketball hoop that's been sitting in the living room since Christmas to the garage....

I asked my brother, "Don't you have any strong friends?" And he said, "Yeah, but they're all lazy." Why do he & I have such lazy-ass friends? It's a damn good thing we've got each other.

At least I didn't have to workout today. I got my sweat-on. My head was dripping. My shirt was drenched. Even my damn feet were sweating. I think it's pretty clear - I am not ready for summer.

And as I pushed the button to open my garage door, my forearm cramped up so bad, my hand went into a turkey-claw-curl. I could barely push the damn button to get the door down. And it happened again while I was trying to shave my leg (b/c I was in the bath as soon as I walked into the house). *sigh* Naptime.

And then.........bass, bass, bass, bass, bass, bass. It's times like these I seriously wish I were deaf. Could someone please donate a 6' fence to me? Please? Pleeeeeeeeease?

Really, though, none of this is so bad. I can cope. So I took an extra bath today & didn't make it to Salvation Army to get a crappy t-shirt. And the ear plugs aren't that uncomfortable....until the inside of my ear itches. Then they're torture. It's a good thing Elvis is already deaf. Garfield can adjust.

I just want to be able to cut my meat at dinnertime.