Tag: photos

State of The Compound

Because the painters are here, I’ve lost my kitchen again. Everything’s taped over with paper and plastic, and we’re back to using the bathroom sink to clean dog bowls and such. We’re all shut off in one half of the house. I was writing on my laptop when I decided to check on the whereabouts of my quiet family.

they seem to be handling exile pretty well

Merry Christmas

1992 Holiday Barbie and her date, a current-day Ted Danson, or maybe Peter Graves, or he could be The Albino from Foul Play, want to wish you the merriest of Christmases.

I may be a few posts short of a LiveJournal for a while, and not very present in comments, but I’ll still be reading. So do NOT make rude remarks about my age, find sneaky ways to force me to listen to “In the Ghetto,” shirk Sugar Monday post duties, make up stories about snow demons, or try to get away with that “reindeer can’t fly” nonsense. Voodoo dolls are just a phone call to Greg away [stern look].

Christmas Eve

Those who have husbands or fathers–is it not a tradition that men will be out shopping on Christmas Eve? When I worked retail, Christmas Eve was almost all male customers, and Christmas Eve shopping has generally been true of the men in my life. It cracks me up. Tom and I agreed not to buy each other anything big this year, since our home improvements are the gifts we are giving ourselves. But of course, I’m always picking up things here and there for him. So he decided to look at my Amazon wish list and get an idea or two of things he could get me while he’s out running errands (and trust me, running errands is already a HUGE gift to me because he’s doing some of mine).

Now knowing what he was up to, when I got a box from my Secret Santa from his family, I thought I’d best open it, just in case… And sure enough, almost everything on my wish list was in the box. So I called Tom and began naming items. Somehow, he missed hearing me say the ONE item that he was holding in his hand as he stood in line to pay. Only later, during our second or third phone call, did I go through the list again because I’d found something else in the box. This time, he heard what he’d already bought. BACK TO BORDERS. (I can think of far worse fates than another trip to a bookstore, though maybe not on Christmas Eve…)

Meanwhile, one of the errands he ran early this morning was picking up a gift card for our mail carrier. You’re not supposed to gift them with cash, so we go the gift card route. When the aforementioned package was delivered, a DIFFERENT mail carrier snagged the envelope off the mailbox. I was all distressed, wondering if our mail carrier would get his gift. The dogs alerted me later that he was walking by–why do dogs hate mail men?–so I dashed out faster than a reindeer FLIES and he hollered at me from the house next door, “THANK YOU!” Apparently, the other mail carrier gave him the card. That made me so happy–not only that he got his gift, but that his coworker was honorable.

When I watched Elizabeth II’s 1957 Christmas address last night, I was struck by her mention of the age of cynicism. Who knew this was a topic fifty years ago, just as it is today. I remember watching Carol Burnett’s interview on Inside the Actor’s Studio years ago when she said her least favorite word is “cynicism.” I immediately adopted it as my least favorite word, too. I think cynicism is demoralizing and crippling. The reason that I do often sound Pollyanna-ish is because I don’t want to ever become cynical. I like believing in things like the magic of the universe and the goodness of people and that in time, all things will come out the way they should and will be okay.

So what I wish for all the people I care about is that this season, and the coming year, brings them a little less cynicism and a little more hope. And I also wish redleatherbound a happy birthday!


In green velvet, 1991 Holiday Barbie with Jamal

Aaaiiiieeeeeee!

Still lurking around. Here are some Compound happenings.

Yesterday, Joe.My.Contractor. looked at this over the kitchen sink.

JMC: What’re you gonna do with THAT?

Me: What?

JMC: That…light.

Me: What do you mean?

JMC: That belongs in your garage, not in your kitchen.

Me: There’s usually a curtain hanging there that hides it from view.

JMC: If you don’t get a new light, I’m building something to cover that up.

Totally bullied, I called Tom to tell him we needed a new kitchen light. This involved Trip 2189 to Home Depot. Tom couldn’t care less and was willing to throw some basic globe up there. I wanted stained glass. He said that wouldn’t give us enough light. (Suddenly he cared.) We couldn’t agree. My back hurt. We left and picked up food. (I still have no kitchen.) When we got home, we had only appetizers in our carry-out bag. Tom called the restaurant. The manager? server? had been waiting for our call and personally delivered the food to The Compound. I love The Ambassador.

We ate. Then we did our Christmas decorating. Don’t be impressed. This is our Christmas decorating so far this year.

pictures behind the cut

Button Sunday–late again

I’m told I’ll be without a kitchen for another week. Can I tell you how “happy” that makes me? Sure, I don’t have to cook. But even if we get carry-out, we still have glasses and utensils to wash. Not to mention dog bowls. In the bathroom sink. Which was not exactly made for such.

Saturday, Tom and I went on a marathon shopping spree so everyone could stop listening to my whining and bitching about how behind I am with all the things I need to do. Sunday night, we went to one of Mark’s favorite places–sight unseen–in Houston: the airport post office. Monday is predicted to be the busiest post office day of the year, and we had around a dozen packages to mail, so the 24/7 post office in the dead of night seemed like a better plan. And truly, we didn’t have to wait in line. The clerk who helped us was pleasant. And there was a bonus. Someone was shipping LIVE CHICKENS in boxes. How often does a person get to fill out her tracking and insurance labels with clucking going on all around her? I felt like I was part of an NPR segment. Furthermore, it was Tom, not I, who said, “Now you have a reason to go home and post to your LiveJournal, because CHICKENS IN THE POST OFFICE ARE BLOGWORTHY.” I agree.

I only have about four more packages to mail, and I’ll be done with that part of the holiday. Just a few last-minute things for local friends and some Christmas card stragglers to respond to. Meanwhile, my office–including my desktop computer with my vast photo archives–is inaccessible to me, which means I’ll be VERY late posting a Photo Friday photo. Here’s what my kitchen looks like now:

it’s dead–wrapped in plastic