my poor heart.

My computer is kerflooey right now so blogging (and returning emails, I know! I’m sorry) is something that I can only on Mark’s laptop, and only after his business hours. There is no Photoshop on this system so editing photos is limited to online editing (Picnik, etc.) which is better than nothing but I miss the fine control I have in PS.

Plus, broken camera still so I need more control in editing just to make things presentable.

Also, the laptop is up in the office and I start to feel all Guilty McGuilterpants when I try to sneak away to update here or catch up on anything that I have let slide. Once in awhile though, Corrigan pulls one of these all-nighters and I find myself totally awake, so I turn on Toy Story in his room, shut his door and walk across to the office to tap out some thoughts.

Hard drives have been sent to a dear friend for data retrieval and then the entire system is going to the doctor where I will be requesting a full lobotomy (restore to factory, woot!) with a (hopefully) bigger brain for even more storage. My computer sits downstairs in the family room so that I can type away while still feeling like part of the family-it will be nice to have it back one day.

So until then, 4:30 am blog posts with poorly edited photos.

You can thank me later.

***************************************************************************************

Connor gets back from Florida around 3am Tuesday morning and I cannot wait to see that boy. I have not been able to communicate with him at all over the last four days because his skinny butt was sitting on a cruise ship, with his cousins, in the Bahamas but tonight I got to not only hear his voice but see his face. Yeah, yeah, I know. I am behind on technology but the iPhone Facetime feature is pretty sweet. Though after 45 minutes my arm was getting a little tired and I was sick of seeing my own double-chin on the screen.

He has been gone almost 11 days now and I think that, in the future, we will be instituting a 4 day rule. Any longer than that and my heart starts to hurt.

A few nights ago I was minding my own business, trying to sleep and suddenly it occurred to me...Connor was on a boat. On a boat in the middle of the Atlantic. I cannot get him if something goes wrong, on a boat. I have never had either of my boys so far from me that I could not reach them in case of emergency and I mean “reach” in the physical sense.

That was a super fun anxiety attack that night.

Do you know what I was thinking about too? The fact that I have NO idea what to do with a fresh beet. Do I peel it? Peel it and boil it? How long do you boil a beet for? What would I have a raw beet in my house in the first place? Do they taste better when you prepare them on your own? I might grow beets in my garden this year. Or not.

side note: WordPress spell-check does not recognize the word “beet” and instead keeps prompting me to change it to “beat”.

In my old house the entry to my kitchen was to the right of the kitchen sink so that when I was standing there doing dishes, I could see someone entering the kitchen from the corner of my eye. In the new house, the kitchen sink is all of the way across from the entry way and anyone entering the kitchen can easily sneak up behind me and startle me. Which is, apparently, something that everyone in this house likes to do deliberately now. Not funny. I am old and overweight. It is all fun and games until Mom dies from a startle-induced heart attack. Who is going to boil your beets then ?

I think that I need to install a mirror on the kitchen window in front of me to catch them before the stroke takes me away. Granted, I will then spend a lot of time scrubbing out pots and pans while seething at the silver hairs I will then easily be able to see in the mirror in front of me, but I will also thwart the startling.

Speaking of the house, everything is finally settling into place. We have been here one full month now and it all feels familiar and comfortable. Like everything there are good and bad things (people flick cigarette butts out of their car windows bythe dozen every day while waiting at the traffic light in ront of my house)..but I might have mentioned that I am now Mrs. Brightside so even if something bugs me, I just repeat the good thing about it over and over until nothing changes. See how helpful being positive is?

The drains in the upstairs bathroom are slowwwwwwww. Like, I took a shower a week ago and it might be just about ready to drain completely say….this Friday.(exaggeration is fun!) But! Bright side? Totally saving on the water bill!

We have all been using Connor’s downstairs shower but it is like showering in a coffin, or one of those Star Trek transporters (seriously!) and after about 7 minutes in there you start to looked like a steamed beet (see what I did there?) since there is about an inch of opening at the very tippy-top. We are still getting clean but much quicker.

But have you seen my kitchen? Oh my. I am so spoiled. My old kitchen had 4 cupboards and ONE DRAWER. A kitchen with one drawer, who builds that? Utensil haters, that’s who. Miserable. I have so many cupboards now it is ridiculous. I have an entire cupboard, 8 feet high, that stores nothing but my Tupperware. And you know, by “Tupperware” I mean the plastic containers I wash out when the butter and mayo are gone to store leftover chinese food in at a later date. It makes me smile every time I open it.

And my pantry? Mouse heaven. I hear mice like pantries, right? I don’t know, I have never had one but if a mouse saw my pantry it would think it had died and gone to mouse heaven. But there will never be mice because Flicker-Bicker is an “upstairs” cat again and she is all feral from living in my basement for the last three years. I pity any mouse that might ever try to make its home here.

Oh, the pantry. Connor says that when he walks through the door, because you can walk into it completely, it just scrambles his brain, too many choices, and he backs out slowly without choosing anything.

Saving money on water and snacks.

See? Bright side!

Do you know what else is fun? Skeleton keys! None of the doors in the house have locks. Not bedrooms or bathrooms but they have keyholes. It amuses Corrigan to no end to be able to push his eyeball up against the keyhole and yell out gibberish when he sees something that he likes. Oh man, if you press your eye up against the other side he will throw himself back with such glee that he falls over.

But sometimes you need to lock a door. You know what I mean? We bought a pack of skeleton keys and I don’t know, it is probably just me (okay fine, it is) but there is something neato about taking a cool looking key off of a nail and placing it in a big ‘ol keyhole and then locking the door.

Bright side!

In all seriousness though, I am still feeling overwhelmingly blessed to be in a new home. One that more than meets our needs and is so well-maintained and lovely. Older homes have such style and I just love looking around here everyday.

and oh my goodness I almost forgot to show you the best part.

(had to be a photo in the post somewhere, right?)

*sigh* Isn’t it dreamy? Not the coffee pot, she is dreamy, yes…but I have had her for awhile, direct your eyes to the cupboard above the old girl. A cupboard filled with nothing but Mama’s coffees. Last count, ten bags. In my old kitchen I had to store coffee wherever there was room, which was often nowhere near the coffeepot (which was plugged into one of the only TWO outlets in the entire kitchen. Plug haters) which was nowhere near the coffee grinder, which could not be used until I unplugged the toaster, and then the creamer and sugar were elsewhere, I don’t know-the basement or something- and after 20 minutes I might have a cup of coffee.

New house, cupboard devoted to nothing but caffeinated goodness. With maybe one bag of decaf in there just so that Mark can not yell at me for trying to drink enough caffeine to make my heart explode. I cannot drink caffeine but you can scare me to death, while I am innocently washing out a cup, on purpose Mr. Ninja Husband? Whatever.

Coffee cupboard= zen. Everything in one central location. You should smell it in there. I mean it, please come smell my coffee cupboard. I will even let you use a skeleton key!

Finally (because it is now 5am and I hear if you are still blogging when the sun comes up you turn into a bat or something) when you were a kid did you ever sit in the back seat and watch the rain drops accumulate on the window and then watch as they blooped and blurped down the glass? Did you ever pick one at the top and then try and follow it as it fell the entire way to the bottom or bumped into another drop and became an even bigger droplet?

I looked back and caught Corrigan doing that in the car yesterday. His little fat fingers were tracing the droplets as they fell on his window and he was smiling at the fun of it. I don’t know, just something normal I saw him doing-something that I think a lot of us did when we were little to pass the time during a car ride-it made me smile.

G’night!

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