Love in a tea mug.

I have been knitting couch covers that I promised Husband.  Our couches are blue, and he wanted blue covers. 

He likes blue.  Blue is fine, but I am going to take a break between covers.  I'm doing light blue. Dark blue. Windsor blue. Robin's egg blue Sky blue. Navy blue. Blue, blue, blue... And for a true thrill, variegated blue!

You get the idea.  I am taking short breaks with other projects, (sock blog coming, hopefully with pics), but I keep on this because I know he'd really like the set to match. And I'd like it done sooner than later.

I have noticed though, when I am knitting, he'll check if I have a cup of tea.  If not, he nearly unfailingly asks if I would like some.  Now, tea isn't a huge deal, I suppose...  But he knows I am a heavy tea drinker, and I tend to focus when I am knitting this project, especially the navy blue! 

But he has figured out I enjoy the tea when I get up, too.  He asks if I would like some while my brain is working towards "awake". (He generally gets up a good two hours before I do.  I really don't want to get up at 4...)

Again, he doesn't HAVE to do it, I am functional enough to get tea made.

But he loves me.  And wants me to enjoy my tea.

And you know something?  I think the tea tastes a bit better when he's made it. Maybe it's just because I know he cares.

It's nice, either way...

Someone hates me, I think... Hic.

I have mentioned before that I use texting a lot to communicate with Husband.  Between not knowing where on the place he is, and a hearing problem, we have found that it is a great deal easier, when it's written down, so to speak.

Or, so you'd think. 

I was trying to let him know about something happening in the house, and I wasn't sure where he was.  And then it happened.

Hic. Hic. Hic... urk.  Go drink some water.

HIC! Noooo... More water...

Oh, no.  I randomly get hiccups, but this one was a DOOZY!  I tried, and tried to write a message, but with the hics making me jerk slightly, and a tiny screen with letters to randomly poke, my message might as well have been written by some alien species of  hyperactive Chihuahuas. Or Pomeranians... 

I finally decided to just write Come Here.

That took me about 3 tries, the closest I managed was "Cone heret".

Mercifully, Husband walked in as I was working on deleting the mistake, and I think, seeing how many swear words I could fit in between chirpy sounding hics. 

If I say nothing else about Husband, he does know when it's dangerous to laugh!  I managed to tell him what I needed to say, and after yet MORE water, (I was sloshing, by then), and holding my breath until I thought I would turn purple, I managed to knock them down.

So, until next time, safe texting... 

How womantig... Dot...

Well, it's Valentine's Day. And how are Husband and I celebrating?

We went out to eat at a restaurant he especially likes.  We suspect that is where we ended up getting whatever bug we picked up.

So, our romantic day is going to be tea, cough drops, and LOTS of hankies.

And sleep. Maybe. I happen to be up at about 3 AM, so...

Hankies. 

Blurble...

Read a good movie lately?

I went to a big chain bookstore, (Husband and I can't remember which one, sadly, it is no more), and they had this section I would always look at while I was there. 

"Read a Good Movie Lately?"

And they would have the latest movies out, either from the book it was based on, or a book, written from the movie.   I would usually pick up at least one or two, especially if it was sci-fi.

I really missed that. 

I happened to be at a book sale we frequent, and they had "The Revenant".  I picked it up, and it started me thinking... I know there are lots of movies based on books... Why not just catch them as I find them?  I have even started a little section of my library, where the "book to movie section" is.  I have the more obvious, like the Hobbit, some newer, like Gone Girl, and Girl with a Pearl Earring.  Some classics, To Kill A Mockingbird, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn...

I might read all of them, might find I have no interest, and go to the next book... And eventually, I might see the movie, too...

The odd thing, I just finished The Revenant.  It was quite good, if more than a bit gorey.  But, as I have noticed, the book and movie differ.

I haven't seen the movie.  So, how do I know?

Husband told me he'd seen the movie, one time while I was off and away.  So I chatted with him about the book, and said, oh, it was awful that his rifle was stolen, and Husband said, yes, and losing his son...

His son?  I looked blank. 

Yes, Husband says, his son Hawk. 

Uh.  No... No children in the book.

Oh, Hawk is an adult child.

Uh, no, Husband, there was no adult child, no child child, and no Hawk...

Now I really want to see the movie, to see what he's talking about!!! 

Carved in stone... Or at least sauce...

Husband and I have very different tastes in food, in some cases.  There has been more than one situation where I have bought at least 5 or 6 different kinds of, oh, say, bread, so that we could find one we both liked.  (Sometimes, even then it's okay, I will buy this brand, because it's the least disgusting, but I digress...)

We found a teriyaki sweet and sour sauce that we both loved.  Bought it in huge amounts, so I would have it on hand...

Then the store I bought it at, stopped carrying it.  ^&*$%!!! 

Okay, look for it at another store.  This lead to looking in about three different cities, when I happened to be there, and I was astounded at how many would say, "oh yes, we have that", when quite often, not only was it not the same sauce, it wasn't even the same BRAND... Sigh.

Then, a fluke.  I looked at a store that Mom and I had gone to for something else entirely, and there it was, in all its pineapple-y glory, THE SAUCE.  I bought almost all they had.  (I think I left one on the shelf...)  The assistant manager said, yep, carry it all the time, if you want to buy it in bulk, let us know...

SIGH...

Husband happened to be visiting a friend in the same area about two months later, and said he would pick up some.  The manager looked it up.  Sorry, it's not being carried here anymore.  At ANY of the stores.  So, back to square one.  And now, it looks to be hard to find, even on the sauce's website, or through the online stores...

Now, I hear you saying, why not just make it yourself? 

Well, I used to.  When we were first married, I had a recipe that I dearly loved.  However, when I made it, I would have to open the door and have a fan pointed outside.  It took a lot of vinegar.  Husband can not handle that smell, for some reason, and he would turn greenish-white, and more than once had to go back outside until I could get the smell cleared.

Doesn't make for a pleasant meal...

So, he pipes up and asks me, after this latest foray into ridiculous-ness, why don't you just make some?

I groan, and remind him of his extremely low gag reflex.  He ponders, and later comes up and asks to see the recipe.  I show him.  Could you maybe lower the vinegar, and put in more of the spices? 

Um.  Well... It's still going to smell.  He said, if you use less, won't it smell less?

I don't know...

So, I decided to tinker.  Worst that could happen, we'd have the doors "open". (technically, the windows on the doors, or we'd have a free range house-cat.)

So, I re-did the recipe, and the first thing I did was add the vinegar, then all the spices, hoping they would absorb the smell.  Then the juices, and all the other stuff and nonce... Finished up, and the place had a distinctive ginger smell, but didn't seem to notice the vinegar one.

Husband came in, and we had supper.  He didn't look green, and we both decided it was pretty good.  I still prefer it with more vinegar, but not having Husband look like he's going to lose stomach contents is better...

So, I marked down all the changes I made, and we now have a replacement for that little thing.  One down, a few more to go...

Sheriff's spare.

Getting ready to go do the faire thing, again.  I will be helping a friend this year that lost his wife.  I think he should be okay, his kids will be there, (even the one who doesn't like faire all that well), and I think most of the faire folk will be within earshot, as he is a very popular, and cared for member of the event. 

So, to that end, I asked Husband to get the trailer out and I could do some cleaning, and basic packing, (things like blankets, clothes, stuff that can keep for a bit, and I don't have to drag out at the last minute.)  He said sure.  I told him I needed to clean out the drawers, cupboards, and the "trunk"*.  I mentioned that I would have to see what was IN the trunk, if anything was around the spare tire.  Husband looks up, and says, no, the tire isn't in there anymore. 

It's not?

Don't you remember? We took it out when we changed the tires, and I carry the spare in the truck that I bought from the Sheriff?

Guh?  Noooo...

Wait... 

Yeees, I do think I remember you saying something about that...  Husband had gone to the Great and Mighty Craigslist for a spare, and this gent had one.  He showed up, and had mentioned that he looked familiar, and the Sheriff chuckled and said that he got that a lot.  After introductions, Husband and Sheriff (he had retired) had a nice long chat, and he bought the tire.  (I suspect my husband could have a polite chat with dang near anyone.  Me?  If I have a purpose, like when I doing the receptionist gig, I am fine.  General polite chit chat? Not so easy...)

So, now my trailer has the "Case of the Sheriff's Spare", to go all Perry Mason...




* I call it the trunk, because it's in the back and the bottom of the trailer.  It's just a big containment area, that's accessible from the side, and the inside, of the trailer.  And, like a trunk, it has gobs of stuff to keep the trailer usable, from jacks, to containers for liquid...

Shifting Bricks.

I guess they finally aged enough.  Or my motivation was motivated.  SOMETHING, at any rate.  I now have the start of a small "patio" for my garden.  

A friend gave us a bunch of bricks, I guess they have some problem so they leech salt, or some such.  (efflorescence, if you want the technical term.  Which is not to be confused with effervescence, which was what I heard the first time.  Bubbly bricks???)  Well, the leeching can be 'fixed' by pouring vinegar on it, or letting the rain, which I gather is slightly toward acid, wash out the salt.  I am not that worried about it.  

The last few days have been a process of getting up, feeding, then moving the bricks from the storage area, to the set up area.  Husband made sure that was only a few feet away, and wouldn't get in the way of moving things in and out of the barn.  I played with some ideas, Husband made some suggestions, and then I started.  

The only problem was when he'd make MORE suggestions, or I would have a problem.  I am working out what's wrong, he's figured it out- and giving me several different suggestions on what to do.  I told him, when I am on problem one, giving me three answers to problem seven isn't going to help, until I know what do do about problem ONE!  I love my Husband, but he has so much background, in so many things, and doesn't realize that some folks (read:ME), have a hard time keeping up.  But, eventually, it made sense, and I started getting the bricks laid out.  

They are now laid out, ready to be put into the area for them.  I told Husband that Noah's Ark method (carry two bricks at a time), was fine for the set up, but when I put them in, I am going to use a wheelbarrow or dolly, I would like to finish the thing before next season!  

I am now working on making the area level, so I cut the high spots down, check with a level, move the cat, scrape some more, check with level, take cat off leg, repeat.  I really don't mind the kitty, I just wish I wasn't... impaled... each time she wants my attention.  Or jumped on, though that didn't happen as much this time.  I think it was because I had a large item in my hand most of the time, either hoe tool or level.  

I am nearly finished with that.  Next, a barrier to keep weeds from growing up through, sand, to bed the bricks in, then sand on top to get into all the crevices.

And then collapse...

YEOWCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the "I don't like hurting", spasms in muscles rate right up there in the could-I-never-have-that-again category. I get Charlie Horses, and things of that ilk with depressing frequency.  I can tolerate them, but if I never had one again, it would not bother me a bit.

So, the thing I got in my neck?  It makes a Charlie Horse look like a playdate with baby rabbits and fluffy kittens!  I slept wrong, and something was uncomfortable in my neck.  I just worked it out slowly, and figured, oh, well, I will get another nights sleep, and then back to normal.

Yeah, sure...

I didn't sleep all that well that night, kept trying to find a spot that didn't jar the thing, and then about 3 a.m., it felt like someone had stuck a rusty fork in my neck. Deeply in my neck!

I got up, and found that if I sat bolt upright, and still, it didn't send screaming waves of pain up my neck, down my back and arm...  I tried meditation, and it did help some, but that has the normally GOOD side effect of relaxing me.  In a dark room, at the early hour, I would doze off, and just about send myself into shock as I would move my head down or sideways, then send off screaming pain signals. 

So, I sat, staring at the window, and trying to decide what I was going to do.  Husband woke, and I don't know what my expression was, but he actually paled, and said, are you all right?  I told him what was wrong, and he said it sounded like a pinched nerve.  He helped me with a bit of a gentle pull on my arm to loosen the area that was spasm-ing.  It was not pleasant, but slowly, it calmed to being very uncomfortable, not 'please can my neck fall off'...

I was able to doze after that, but man, it really nailed me.  I wrote this blog about 2 days after the incident, and I still have a badly sore muscle from where it was trying to cramp and spasm! 

So, in the great scheme of things, if I become Queen of the Universe, I am officially outlawing pinched nerves! 

Cooo-kieeees!

(With acknowledgement to Cookie Monster...)

Husband loves cookies.  So, I try to make them fairly often.  I also try to make ones HE likes, that I don't care for all that well, so I stay out of them. 

For the most part...

Well, he would go through a standard batch of cookies in, oh, less than a week.  I started getting tired of making a batch every three days, so I doubled the batch.  That has worked well.  He enjoys the cookies, I enjoy baking them, so it works out well. (Except for one type, the Snickerdoodle.  It's the glitter bomb of cookies in my house! I make them, and I am cleaning sugar and cinnamon off the table and floor for at least a day or two. ARGH!!) 

But as time has passed, Husband isn't quite as ravenous.  I still make the same amount, however.  I just split it, and take some to the Substation.  I have found out that the various folks, volunteers, deputies, people who come in for other reasons, all seem to gravitate to the cookie box I bring.  I know one of the guys that works here, he manages to have a reason to go by and grab a cookie at least two or three times, when he knows I've just brought it in, and usually right after he has fresh coffee.  One of the volunteers told me he goes to the cookie box (actually, a Tupper-Rubber-Brand type bowl with a seal-able lid), before he sits down to work. 

So I have definitely started something!

One of the deputies always quizzes me if there is cookies when he walks in, I made the mistake of saying yes once, he was SO disappointed when it was 'boughten' cookies, rather than homemade.  (I happen to like the particular brand, but I guess he really likes homemade.) I make a point of putting what cookies are, on the white board we have for notes.  I suppose I should date it as well, but I try not to have it there more than a week or so.  Although, it usually doesn't last that long.  Maybe one or two half cookies, or a box with crumbs, but I don't think any have been left sitting for long...

I think the hands down favorite is chocolate chip, plain.  A lot like the ones I make with oatmeal, too, but some don't care for oatmeal.  Snickerdoodles, when fresh, do well, but don't seem to have the 'staying power' of some of the other cookies.  I also make peanut butter.  'Junk Cookies', which is whatever bits and pieces of cookie making material goes into one, like coconut, M&M's, flavored chips, what have you. One we call Conser Cookies, because of a friend of mine who adored them, which are peanut butter cookies with chocolate cake mix in, and sometimes chocolate chips.

I have decided though, I might make some different ones, just because I haven't made them, and for something different.  Husband isn't wild about Gingersnaps, but on occasion, I would like some.  Well, if I make a batch, I can freeze some, and the rest can be vacuumed eaten by the group, where I won't have them around to nibble on.  I have some others I'd like to try as well.

Do you think they'd mind?  ; D

Werewolf? Er, meow??

I was out like a light, and obviously, so was Husband.

Ding took this as quite an advantage. 

We have taught Ding that there are certain places she can't go, (kitchen counter, dining room table), and places where it's fine, (bathroom counter, craft room bookshelf).  Didn't think I would need to work on training, this late in the game. 

We let Ding sleep on the bed.  This generally isn't a problem... Well, unless I get pinned down with 17 pounds of cat, and sheets, but that is happening less, she's found that sleeping between us is warmer, than on top of me...

Wherein lies the oopsie.

I woke, and turned over, to rub Husband's back.  I do this quite often.  I reach out, and I feel... FUR.  My muzzy brain doesn't click.  My husband is not David's Michelangelo bare, hair wise, but he isn't that furry!

Gah?

That's when I started hearing Ding's buzzing purr.  She had managed to wiggle down between the two of us, under the sheets.  And was contentedly snoozing between us.

But not for long.  I flipped the sheets back some, and pulled her out, waking Husband in the process.  Ding was upset, and jumped off the bed.  I, on the other hand, rolled over, and went back to sleep.  I also was back to back with Husband, so Ding was out of luck.  She has since tried a few times to get under the sheets, so I put her back on top, and cover her with a blanket.  I don't think she cares for it as well, but that's what she's getting... 

Husband's "other woman" is not getting pride of place! 

Technology, a breakthrough... So to speak...

Dad called the house phone, and asked if Husband was there.

Sorry, nope.

Oh, well, I need to find out if he needs the red or the green bottle of cleaner.

???  Dad, I've no clue what you are talking about...

For the tractor...

Oh!  (Dad and Husband are repairing Dad's tractor, it had some diesel go bad in it... Not an easy thing to fix, I am gathering, as the various fixing sessions have gone on...)

I don't know.  I think the red, but I am just guessing...

Then I thought about it a minute, while staring at my cell phone... I called Husband, and told them to both wait a minute.  I didn't want to be the 'translator', and took a chance.

I pushed the speaker buttons on both phones, and held them close enough that they would talk to each other, yet wouldn't squeal feed back.

Can you two hear each other?  Yes!  Yeah!

Then the conversation, via two phones held about 2 inches apart.  The hardest part of the conversation was my not giggling at how strange it looked to have two phones blabbing away at each other!  But, the guys were able to talk directly to one another, getting the info quickly, and now I think they have all the parts to get the job taken care of.

Ah, technology, what will it do next?  (However, I think I might put Husband's phone number in Dad's phone... Perhaps it might make it go a little less giggly next time...)

OOOOH! ZING!

There was an article that was just let out, that Oregon State University found mammoth bones by the end zone.  I was enthused, and was listening to what they'd found, which also included a camel of some sort, as well as a few other critters of long ago.

I was musing to Husband that there should have been an ancient beaver* there, too.

No, a duck fossil, says he.

DUCK**?  Why, pray tell, would you say duck, it's OSU's end zone...

He looked up with a straight face, and stated, "The article said, that was where the animals came to die, right?"

Whoa, I didn't even think Husband cared about team sports!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* Oregon State University mascot is a beaver, however, I still think the new one looks more like a rat, so the link goes to a cute toy, as well, to make up for it...

** University of Oregon, the civil war rivals, have a duck as a mascot (sorry, couldn't find a just picture link).  If you want to impress someone with your vast knowledge, the duck's name is Puddles, and he was drawn by a Disney artist.

That and a few bucks will get you a woo woo coffee someplace...

Happy Pi Day!!!

See, it's official, even! 

I wanted to make a pie for Pi day, and asked Husband what kind of pie he wanted, apple, or-
"Apple would be great!"

Um, well, okay, guess we have that covered...

So, 3/14/15, 9:26:53, a once in a century Pi Day.