I Shall Return

Please excuse my blogging hiatus as of late.  As most of you know, we're in the midst of an extremely difficult move, involving much home improvement, much stress, and many impulses to scream, stomp around, and act out irrationally.  Unfortunately we don't have Internet at our new abode, nor are we updated with iPhones thanks to ATT's haughty attitude, and Verizon's less-than-stellar signal.  Therefore, I'm unable to blog as regularly as I'd like.

I still find it ironic that we can get uber-fast DSL service at our old home in the middle of nowhere Ozarks, yet nothing at our new home in our particular part of the city.  *sigh*

But never fear - you can't keep a blabby blogger down for long, and I'll update whenever possible.  Just please don't desert me as I desperately cling to sanity.

Ideas Needed

My folks are in the process of opening an antique store in my little south Missouri hometown.  It's hoped that an influx of antique stores will revive the long-ailing downtown of what used to be a bubbling and quaint little town, and I'm surely one of those doing the hoping.  It hurts a bit to go home and see such a depressed main street.

With oodles of stuff left over from my Grandmother's antique store and since they already own a building downtown, they have the makings of a darned good store.  As Dad has been working hard to update and redo the building, the challenge has been thinking up a name. 

With a family too witty and sarcastic for their own good, the smart-alec names have been flying.  My personal favorite was proposed by my aunt and cousin, who thought it'd be nice to put a little coffee shop in the corner and call it, "The Crapper Barrel." 

*snorfle*

Anyway, they need a catchy name.  While they've already collected a few winners, any more inspirations we could add would be appreiated.

The Hard Way

Lately life makes me think of that Mary Chapen Carpenter song, “The Hard Way”, given the fact that it seems everything hubby and I do is achieved by taking the most difficult route possible. We can’t just up and move…we have to get ourselves into circumstances that draw it out into a long, excruciating, stressful, never-ending process repeated way too soon after the initial long, drawn-out move and house re-do. Worst of all, it’s causing me to miss my very favorite time of the year. While I was busy loading a trailer and getting it to our new abode, picking out paint, and cleaning sludge, spring happened. And I missed it. Turkeys are going un-hunted. Morel mushrooms are going un-gathered. Flowers are going un-smelled. Birds are going un-watched. Save for a few galvanized tubs of tomatoes, the garden is going un-planted.

Stress has reached new levels – you haven’t lived life on the edge until you’ve driven an overloaded truck and enclosed trailer complete with two dogs down scenic Hwy 14, where the curves are so sharp a person has been known to see their own tail lights.

This week at Chateau Pee-Pee, we were able to retrieve a load of flooring and paint a room. At this rate we’ll be settled in about three years, but with hubby’s way-too-demanding job and still caring for a home three hours away, we’re doing the best we can. We should be paying someone to do the work, but you can’t get blood from a turnip, so the work falls to us to try to complete in our spare time.  At least the pee smell is mostly gone. We should now change the name to Chateau Paint Fumes, which is much preferable. While paint fumes aren’t high on my list of favorite smells, the scent does say “Progress.” However, it’s hard to get the image out of my head of Tom Hanks in, “The Money Pit.”

Now, aside from being stressed out, we’re caught in limbo. Our Mountain Home house no longer feels like home, nor does our new house feel like home just yet. If there’s one good thing to be said for the way we seem to do things, it’s that if we ever DO get settled and relaxed and into a routine, we’ll greatly appreciate what everyone else seems to take for granted. Right now that seems a long way away, but I know it’ll eventually get here…one step at a time. I hope for your sake I can do it without too much whining.

Just Another Racist Extremeist

Today I had another post all ready to go, but then I realized I was being a big fat chicken, already playing into negative media coverage.  Last night I attended the local Tea Party.  According to MSNBC, which I had on while I worked around the house yesterday afternoon, this makes me an idiot, a racist, an exteremeist, and part of a "dangerous fringe" of society who practice in "hate speech" and don't want to pay their taxes.  Hm.

I guess since I'm concerned about more and more entitlement programs on the way - entitlements that have no incentive but encourage relying on government for needs, outrageous spending of our tax dollars (when only 50% of households actually pay taxes), a debt that defies all logic that is going to bite us solidly on the ass, and a lack of concern for governmental spending in the face of that debt, not to mention the fact that we now have a healthcare bill that was crammed through in secret without regard that a majority of the American people were screaming to slow down - I'm all those things MSNBC commentators spouted about anyone dumb enough to attend a tea party.  I guess we're just supposed to sit down and shut up.

Sorry, I just can't.  No matter what the "unbiased media" has to say, I've been to a few of these things now, and have never seen the mob-mentality or rampant racism supposedly present at these gatherings.  Matter of fact, yesterday I met and spoke with Princella Smith, who is running for Congress in Arkansas's 1st District.  The more I hear from her, the more I like her...despite my disagreement one one particular issue, the rest are right in line and for me hold more importance for our country. 

http://www.princellasmith.com/

I first heard Princella speak at another, totally unpolitical event, and during a web search to find out more about her views and political stances since I happen to live in this disctrict, I encountered ALL KINDS of real hate speech from people with opposing viewpoints.  Holy cow.  The double-standards are astounding.

This administration has clearly shown that they're not going to take our concerns into consideration.  Isn't that the foundation this country was built on?  Shouldn't thoughts and concerns of a large number of citizens be at least taken into consideration, rather than ridiculed and ignored?  How do you THINK people are going to feel?  Large demonstrations should be expected.  I may not agree with every single issue brought to concern by Tea Party goers, but the real underlying issue, bringing different people from various walks of life and backgrounds together,  is that a growing number of citizens are feeling left out, forgotten, and taken advantage of.

So yup, say hello to your friendly neighborhood extremeist.

Happy Early Birthday to Me

Yesterday I received my birthday present from Marden a couple of weeks early.  He gave me two reasons for jumping the gun - #1) He's not sure if the Army will let him be in town to properly celebrate my three-and-a-half decades, since April is a crazy month in his world, and #2) he already had it and he can't keep a secret.  I know the second reason to be a solid truth.  The boy CANNOT keep a secret when it concerns a gift.  It's unreal.  I have it on good authority that he had a carefully concocted plan to hide this item in his car, then transfer it to his office until closer to the day.  However, within 10 minutes of his arrival at home from a conference this weekend, he disappeared.  I just figured he was cleaning out his car, until I heard strumming coming from the porch.  I went to investigate, and I was presented with this:

Whoohoo!  It's a banjo!  A Deering Goodtime 5-string open-back banjo, to be exact...the very no-frills beginner model.  As I sit here typing, it's over on the couch, staring at me reproachfully, as if it's saying, "Oh geez...I got YOU?  You don't know the first thing about a banjo."  And it would be right.  I really don't know the first thing about a banjo, except that I want to learn.  I should probably go over and make friends with it, but it's very intimidating.

I mentioned to Mom that I was probably crazy for wanting to learn the banjo.  She caught me a bit off-guard when she didn't hesitate to agree. :)  Oh well, I'm no stranger to family and friends thinking I'm an odd duck...this is just the first time Mom chimed in.  In all fairness, I did ask.  It is a little nuts since I am not only still light-years from mastering the fiddle, but I seem to be collecting hobbies the way some people collect stuff.  I'm a Hobby Hoarder.  Doesn't a cable channel have a show for that?  I just realized the other day how many hobbies I have...I have hobbies I've forgotten I have until I run across the stuff for that hobby, which comes with it's own kind of guilt.  It's just that there are so many things I want to do.  I don't want to wake up one day at ninety years old, realizing that I never tried anything because I was afraid of failing or afraid of what people thought.  Regret is one of the worst feelings in the world...I hate feeling regret more than anything.  To tell the truth, I AM sometimes afraid of what people think...but I'm more afraid of the regret if I don't try to cram in as many interesting things as I can into this life.  If people think I'm a little off, so be it.  But, the truth is that I do need to pare down some hobbies, discard the ones that didn't stick, and get more serious about others.  That, however, is another blog post.

The reasons that kept me from pursuing banjo in the past included a lack of true interest, lack of money, lack of a teacher, and the fact that they're heavy and big and cumbersome, and finally - all those freaking finger-picks. Then I discovered that there are different kinds of banjos along with different styles of playing, and the banjo used in my favorite genre of stringed music - Old-Time Americana Roots stuff - most often uses the clawhammer method of banjo-ing. I don't really know the reason it's called "clawhammer", and I couldn't find a reason why, but I like to think it's because you hold your picking hand like a claw, then hammer on the strings.  No finger-picks involved.  It's open-backed, so no heavy resonator.  It's simple, and I like simple.  Once I discovered the clawhammer style and these light-weight banjos, my interest quickly went from , "eh" to "OH!." 

I'd probably never seriously considered learning the banjo if not for my Folk Alliance experience, where I learned the difference between banjos, was told repeatedly that it was one of the easier stringed instruments to learn, and was pursuaded that learning another instrument would help me understand music theory, jamming, and chording whatnot.  Even when I protested, "But I'm just starting the fiddle!", I was told that most musicians eventually pick up another instrument, and it would just fuel my drive to learn.  Once I displayed the least bit of interest, banjos were thrust into my arms and I was instructed to "mess around with it a bit."  I think they knew I'd get hooked.

I guess that's when I started mentioning banjos to my husband, and he took the hint.  Though, I really did want the waffle iron that I requested so I could make our own whole-grain waffles.  I guess he thought that wasn't a very good birthday present.  I suppose I can get a waffle iron any time...I mean, I've made it this far without one.  But, I'm super-excited, if a bit intimidated, by the prospect of getting to know this banjo.  Much more excited than if I were making waffles...although waffles are exciting, too.

Hard Times at Chateau Pee-Pee

The past week I've been without internet access - which feels uncomfortably like being without a limb - while we finally, FINALLY, took possession of our new house on Camp Robinson.  (Therefore this may be a longish post...it feels so great to have my hands typing away at a keyboard again I may have a hard time stopping.)  Unfortunately, the day that was supposed to bring great joy instead brought intense frustration, anger, and not just a few tears as I walked through the house, stumbling over all the broken furniture, trash, and just utter crap the former tenants left not only in the house, but all over the yard, on the porches and in the storage buildings.  My eyes watered at the stench of cat pee soaking the carpets and the unmistakable odor of outright filthy living.  I quickly regretted rebuffing the offers from my folks to come and help with pre-move prep. 

Mom, you're entitled to a big "I told you so."  I humbly accept.

We spent an entire afternoon just clearing the flotsam left in and around the double-wide to stack on an ever-growing refuse pile, which the former owner promised to take care of.  I'm not holding my breath on that one, but at least we got it out of our way and consolidated into one big heap.  One thing I'll never understand is how poeple spend money on things, then don't take care of them.  The sheer amount of once-nice items that were not cheap, but that had been abused and neglected until they were junk was unbelievable.  A few things left behind were usable, such as a barely-used automatic dog-waterer I happen to know costs about $40 at Petco.  I'm guessing money wasn't a huge concern to these folks.  It's amazing what you can learn about people by going through their discarded stuff.  They seemed to have the attitude that many people have today - "don't take care of it, then don't fix it - just buy a new one."

After we got most of the junk and trash cleaned up, we turned our attention to state of the house.  Now, I've never been accused of being an immaculate housekeeper.  I seem to have contracted that recurring disease knows as "clutteritis", letting things pile up, forgetting to put things away after use, and allowing laundry to accumulate while waiting to be folded.  I also occasionaly give in to the "do-it-laters" when faced with a beautiful day or good book.  However, despite my failings as a neat-freak, I've never felt my home was actually dirty.  Oh, it accumulates dirt and dust, our shower is indeed a magnet for soap scum, and there are items in the back of the fridge that could possibly be designated as some new life-form.  But, I do excercise my vacuum, broom, mop, dust rags, and sponges at least once a week...and every couple weeks I try to make a foray through the fridge to discard food relics.  While my goal is to one day live in such a way that at any given time my house looks as though there is a place for everything, and everything is in it's place, in reality I'm happy if at any given time someone can walk in and feel comfortable.  Plus, the dirt that is in my house is my dirt...and that's different.

In our new house, the former owners weren't bothered by even the most meager methods of housekeeping.  Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that to accumulate that much filth in the short time they lived in this house, not once was a vacuum run over the carpets or a sponge passed over the showers.  How do people live in such dirty conditions?  I'm sure bonafide neat-freaks ask the same questions about my house, so I guess it's all relative.

In any case, the accumulated filth left a grimy film over every surface, which collected dust, hair, food...and I'm not sure what else - I really don't want to know.  I'll not go into great detail, but after a short time of cleaning it wouldn't have surprised us to find Jimmy Hoffa somewhere in the mess.

I'll quit grossing you out, but I will say that I expect some sort of Lifetime Achievement Award for spending two solid hours mopping up the filth-encrusted sludge that had accumulated behind and under the stove and fridge.  *shudder*  Due to the intense odor of cat urine, we started calling our new place "Chateau Pee-Pee"...it has a nice Frenchy ring and it helped us keep up our sense of humor, which we were quickly losing.

(I'll also spare the details from the guy who took over the former house-owner's office and had to clean it...but I will say it included boogers.  Yes...boogers.)

Once we got the carpet and pad out, which took several days, the smell GREATLY improved.  And, we were delighted to find that the floor was undamaged from the "moisture."  After a few days of intense cleaning (and a lot of bleach), greatly aided by Marden's folks chipping in, the house not only lost all trace of the initial horrible stench, but started feeling a bit more friendly, as if Chateau Pee-Pee really could actually be our home one day in the near future, and the dark cloud over my head started to dissipate slightly.

On an additional bright note, we also continued having flooring success.  As I mentioned before, we decided to go with Ron Pack Carpet and Flooring.  We worked with Pamela, who came out to take measurements and give us a quote.  Unfortunately the flooring we'd initially picked turned out to be a bit more expensive than we thought, and with the sheer square footage we needed it flew right out of our price range.  That's not hard to do with 2700+ square feet to cover in flooring.  We wanted good quality that would hold up and not look cheap, but that prospect was starting to appear impossible.  It was either break the bank, or lower our quality standards and risk getting something that not only looked cheap but that wouldn't hold up.  Pamela was sympathetic to our plight, though, and had brought some samples of high-quality flooring she had only in small amounts, but that she thought we might like.  Long story short - after Pamela scoured their warehouse as well as the warehouse in Ron Pack's other location, and we ended up with really nice, thick, richly "hand-hewn" textured laminate flooring that is normally very expensive.  We did have to go with four slighly different floors, but the trailer is so huge that I don't think it'll look patchworky, and Pamela did find enough of one floor to do the main part of the house all the same.  It's not what I would've picked for my dream house - a little dark for my taste - but for this house it'll work, especially with all the windows and natural light it has, and after the walls are brightened up with some fun paint.  And it DEFINATELY works for the pocketbook - Pamela was able to get the entire house floored for $1.07 per square foot.  We left Ron Pack's parking lot in a state of almost giddy relief.

This whole experience makes me wonder, "HOW do we always get ourselves into these situations???"  It seems I'm always redoing a house.  It seems I've been redoing houses and apartments every year since college.  I sincerely hope against hope that this is the one...this is where we'll land for a significant amount of time.  We shall see.

A Must-See Movie

This past weekend my husband and I rented a couple of movies.  While the first was so bad I won't even mention it, I highly recommend the other, "The Stoning of Soraya M."

Based on a true story - this wasn't a fancy movie with a lot of special effects, or even a complicated plot - the title pretty much says it all.  But to say it was real and gut-wrenching isn't giving this movie enough credit.  Even squinting at the subtitles on our little 19" TV, I felt like I was part of the village where the story was taking place.  I wanted to scream at the injustice, and cry for not only Soraya, but everyone who has and will continue to meet this fate in a modern-day culture where women are at best second-class citizens, and more commonly just property with about as much status and rights as a head of livestock.

If you do watch it, be aware that the actual stoning is intense and brutal.  In a world where almost every movie we watch is jam-packed full of action, with twisted plot lines (when there is a plot), huge dramatic explosions, and gory computer-enhanced deaths, I wouldn't have expected "The Stoning of Soraya M" to profoundly affect me the way it did.  Don't expect to feel uplifted after this movie - as the credits rolled my husband and I sat in stunned silence.  Despite the absence of a warm-fuzzy after this movie, I had the feeling I'd just watched something profound and important, rather than an empty and pointless fabrication meant to stun us with special effects.

I'll quit blabbering on...just check it out and see for yourself.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1277737/