2:30 pm — Expensive, unplanned home repair happens in three’s.  I get that.  But when I went out in the garage to pay the guy who was fixing our garage door, I found a huge puddle under my deep freeze, and that is #4 for me this week.  I think I got someone else’s share and quite frankly, I’m a little peeved about it.  I’d sit here and vent, but it looks like I’ve got a freezer full of meat to cook.

6:30 pm (in response to someone asking me what were our four things ….)  #1, the frame/casing rotted on our back door and everything had to be replaced.  Thanks to Berry Y, its done and we have a nice looking back door that is no longer sagging.  #2 was a broken spring on our garage door, and #3 was the dreaded F1 error code on my clothes washer.  Now, the deep freeze.  That’s not counting the thermostat that had to be replaced on the upstairs a/c unit last week.  I guess if Mark’s right, we’re five for six and have one more unlucky strike headed our way.  Remind me, again, of the joys of home ownership?

10:30 pm — Well, at one point tonight I had hamburger browning in one pan, chicken boiling in another, stew in one crock pot, and pot roast in another.  Now, after salvaging as much as possible, and being FORCED to clean out the inside freezer (why didn’t one of my kids tell me a fudgesicle melted at some point in the past, all down the back?) I think we are in the home stretch.  Blah.

10:31 pm — And did I mention after all that, the deep freeze in the garage is running fine?  I’m starting to think *someone* (probably me, but I’d rather blame one of the kids) might have left the door cracked open without realizing it for a few days.  Last time that happened, I lost 50 bags of frozen breast milk.  WAY more upsetting than a few pounds of ground beef, ha!

I had just turned off all the lights, when Blaine walked in the room.  He had turned on the kitchen light, so he was back-lit, was holding a kleenex to his nose, and had a funny look on his face.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

“I’ve got a nosebleed and I can’t get it to stop,” was his answer.

“But you’re ok, right?”

“Yes,” he said.  “But you’re not going to be.”

Knowing he had his 3-mo follow up with his oncologist today, and that his nose was bleeding, I braced myself for yet another “announcement” about the cancer being back.   “What’s wrong?” I asked.

Blaine hesitated, again, with this really peculiar look on his face.  “Blackie just caught a mouse at the top of the stairs.”

Now, the thing you have to know is that last week, I told Blaine I thought we had a mouse (singular … not plural) or maybe a squirrel or something, in the attic.  Or maybe in the wall.  I could hear something moving around, and heard it most often near the kitchen pantry, which walls out to our back yard.  Blaine had checked this weekend, confirmed that there was a hole leading into the wall from the outside, and put animal poison down. 

So while I already knew, intellectually, that there was a possibility we had a mouse, it was quite a different thing to hear it in real-live-person version, and to know that thing had breached the doorstep of the very place I live.  ::shudder::

“That’s not funny,” I said.  “April Fools Day was three weeks ago, and your joke isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” Blaine said, laughing at me.  “He totally caught a mouse on the stairs.”

“Again,” I repeated, “NOT FUNNY.”

 …………….. pause ………………….

“Seriously?  He caught a mouse?”

“Yep, I found him playing with it on the stairs just now.”

“Wait.  It wasn’t dead????”

Blaine had to explain to me that this is apparently normal cat behavior (remember, I’ve never owned a cat in my life, and wasn’t real thrilled about taking in this one, a stray, that we inherited with the house three years ago.)   Little did I know, but it appears cats like to play with their captures, before killing and eating them.

“You mean he’s going to EAT the mouse???”  I started feeling a little panicky.

“Well, he probably will when he’s doing playing with it.” Blaine replied logically.

“Where the HELL is the mouse now?” I practically shouted.

“I don’t know.  Blackie took off down the stairs when he saw me coming.”

“AND THE MOUSE STILL WASN’T DEAD YET????”  Really, was it not obvious that I was getting upset????

So Blaine tracked the cat down to the den, where he had dragged the mouse (still alive) and was still playing with it.  I don’t know which thought bothered me more …. that there was a live mouse in my house, being tortured by my cat, or that said cat most likely had every intention of eating said mouse in the same house ….. raw.  Uncooked.  No honey-mustard dipping sauce or anything.

I was officially creeped out.

“How many do you think he’s killed?  Do you think that’s the only one?  Geez, there’s never just one mouse, everyone knows they swarm in packs.  My GOD, we’re infested with mice!!  Probably big ones!!  Like rats!  Like giant, disgusting rats that are going to climb all over us in our sleep and eat our faces off!!!  Oh my goodness, go get the kids, we’re going to a hotel tonight!!!!!!”

Blaine, calmly, “I think perhaps you are over-reacting. It’s a teeny, tiny, single mouse.”

Me, practically screaming, “ROUS’s!!  They’re like ROUS’s!!!!!  I can’t live here anymooooooooooorrrrrrrrrreeeee!”

Blaine realized he had two options …. hit me over the head with a heavy mallet to knock me out, the only method guaranteed to calm me down, or, go get rid of the damn mouse.

So he took the (still alive) mouse from the cat and killed it.  The thought of which almost sent me back into hysterics.

Then Blaine felt bad that he took the mouse away from the cat (depriving him of his “kill”  — some feline psychological BULLSHIT I DON’T CARE GET THAT MOUSE OUT OF MY HOUSE) so he spent the rest of the evening petting the cat and praising the cat and stroking the cat and giving the cat treats.

I spent the rest of the night trying to sleep with one eye open so no giant rat would eat my face off.

Needless to day, our first call today was to the exterminator.  That might have been the only mouse in a fifty mile radius.  We’ve seen no evidence of mice in our kitchen or pantry, and have found zero mouse droppings anywhere.

But I’m telling you, we are taking no chances.  If I find out there’s another, I am putting a for sale sign in the front yard and moving the hell out.  But I’m taking the cat with me.  Because as awful as it is to know that my cat caught a mouse, right in my very house, imagine the alternative. 

So happy for our stray.

Blaine:  At least it looks good.

Me:  Yeah, but they had to cut the counter top to make it fit.  There is dust and counter top shavings everywhere … on the stove, in the appliances, the floor, the rug, the windowsill, in the drawers ….its a mess.

Blaine:  But the sink will be easier to keep clean.

Me:  I suppose.  Did you notice the garbage disposal is on the right side of the sink this time?  No wonder the drains didn’t line up.

Blaine:  It was on the right side last time.

Me:  No it wasn’t, it was on the left.

Blaine:  Right.

Me:  Left.

Blaine:  just looked at me

Me:  Right?  Wasn’t it on the left?  with the last sink???  voice trailing off ….

Blaine:  Lord.  Have.  Mercy.  Clearly you need to spend more time cleaning the kitchen, if you can’t even remember where the garbage disposal was.

1a.  My e-mail address book, so I’m pretty much screwed unless I can reply to someone.

1b.  Access to a printer.  Had no idea how much I use mine until it no longer worked.

1c.  Access to any of my documents, photos, or photo editing software.  (see 1b.)

2.  I do not have Bedroom furniture.

3.  I do not have closets to put any of the kids’ clothes in.

4.  I do not have electricity in the upstairs part of the house.  Which means the workers are opening windows and running extension cords down to plug in their equipment.  And since the high today was 40 degrees, that pretty much rocked.

5.  I do not have the ability to access any of my Christmas decorations, tree, lights, etc., because of all the drywall and 2x4s and various machinery stacked on that side of my garage.

5b.  I do not have the ability to park my own van inside the garage.  (see 5.)  And I am a dainty princess butterfly who is going to be darn unhappy going out to a freezing cold van in the morning.

6.  I do not have faith that the work will be done by noon tomorrow as promised.  Really?  Seriously?  Have you **looked** around upstairs, fellas?  Because while the work that has been done is good and exciting and looks great (well, except for the Big Bird vomitus in the hallway) it would appear there is still a lot left to do.  Little things, like, light switches, and window sills, and flooring besides concrete would be nice.

7.  I do not have my Christmas shopping done, which is SO not like me, and is driving me crazy.  But I have to either sit home every morning until the workers show up, or run back home to let them in when they do show up …… its really cutting in to my shopping time.

8.  Mainly, I do not have much sanity left.  In case you couldn’t tell from all the rambling I’ve been doing about this remodel.  And we’re lucky because its actually going pretty well.  I saw “Money Pit” …. I know what *could* have happened.  But still.  Not much sanity left.

But, progress continues to be made.  Although it is Sunday, and the workers didn’t show up until 2:30, they stayed until 7:30.  Painting is almost complete, closet doors have been put on, and baseboards have been tacked back into place.  I think once the light fixtures get put up, so we can SEE, and the carpet is laid, it might actually resemble a home again.

Unfortunately, the lovely buttercup yellow paint I picked for the upstairs hallway went on a bit less lovely and quite a bit brighter than I anticipated —- it looks as though Big Bird vomited all over the walls.

And of course I will share pictures …. did you guys really think you could escape that?

Gayle, believe me, I would prefer NOT to have the master bedroom upstairs.  Not only will I have to walk up our stairs, which are incredibly steep, just to get to and from my bedroom, but the laundry room is downstairs which means I’ll be lugging laundry as well.  For someone as lazy as I am, it is NOT an appealing proposition.

But since we moved into this house two years ago I have been bitching and moaning about the ridiculously huge bedrooms and disproportionately small living spaces.  This is the best way we could figure to solve that problem and are incredibly hopeful it will make us much happier in our own home.  I have no doubt when the kids move out, and Blaine and I become too decrepit to make it up and down the stairs, we’ll move our bedroom back downstairs.  But until then, room for all of us in the living room, finally!

I didn’t even paint today. Instead, I went to my kids morning assembly awards thingy, then drove to Sonic (shocker … not) then came home and cleaned the downstairs because I was hosting a PTO luncheon, and then the nice ladies stayed all afternoon to discuss next year’s calendar, but it wasn’t even boring like it sounds, it was actually pretty fun but maybe that’s just because I don’t have many friends here and I’m desperate for female companionship, and now Kellen and I are fixing to go shopping at the mall for “nice” clothes because of the upcoming “formal” dinner nights on the cruise and the poor boy has nothing nicer than khaki pants in his closet and I can’t have all those cruise people pointing their fingers at him and tsk-tsking in sympathy because his parents are too cheap and clueless to buy anything nicer than khaki pants, and I figure then since we’re out, after the khaki pants extravaganza, we’ll probably grab dinner somewhere …..

Hmmm. I’m starting to think *this* might be why it takes me a month to actually finish any painting project I start.

2. Before you begin any painting project, make sure the brushes you purchased for your *last* painting project are still good. If the bristles are so stiff that its like painting with a brick, you will need to buy a new brush, and should probably do that ahead of time.

3. When you go to Home Depot for a new brush, wearing sweat pants with a hole in the knee, a ratty t-shirt, and no makeup, try not to make eye contact with anyone lest they recognize you. Mumble a lot about primer and painters tape and caulk and if you’re lucky, maybe people will assume you are actually a professional painter and your crappy clothes are your work uniform.

4. When you go to Home Depot for a new brush, make sure you buy the right kind.

5. When you go back to Home Depot for a new brush, return home promptly. Do NOT run any additional errands, or stop for breakfast, or call friends — otherwise you will return home and realize it is already mid-morning and you haven’t accomplished a damn thing. And then you will begin to seriously wonder about the possibility of adult-onset A.D. — oooh, look, something shiny!

6. You know that fabulous, brand-new bedroom furniture you bought your children a few months ago? Made of real wood, and weighing approximately three thousand pounds? You really should have painted the walls *BEFORE* you had the furniture placed in the room, and attached to the walls, you moron.

7. Never buy a two-story house.

8. Open your wallet, let the moths fly out, and call a damn professional.

While we’re at it, whose dumb-ass idea was it to build a house with stairs at a 90 degree angle to the bedrooms?

And whose dumb-assier idea was it to BUY the house???

Oh. That would be me.

If you’ll excuse me, now that I’ve caught my breath, I’m off to haul a ladder up a flight of stairs.

Self-Portrait Challenges for the month of May, as per Lelly of Lelly’s Musings are as follows:

May 5 — Something Old

May 12 — Something New

May 19 — Something Borrowed

May 26 — Something Blue

So, in keeping with her theme, here is my “Something New”:

I know, right? Are we crazy? Did we not learn our lesson the last time?

No, it appears we did not.

This time around, however, it’s for our personal residence, and not the rental property. After living here for a year and half, and complaining every single solitary day (hey, at least I’m consistent!) that the green paint color on the walls, combined with the total and complete LACK of natural light in the house makes me feel like I’m living in a cave — a dark cave, with moss-covered walls — well, it’s time to put up or shut up. Wish us luck. Our marriage has survived the military, infertility, and cancer. I don’t know, however, if we’ll survive another painting project.

Ironically, when the PTO moms were here last week for the dessert party, one of them complimented the “nice, green color” in our living room.

“Thanks,” I said, “I like it too, but its just too dark. We’re getting ready to paint it yellow.”

“Really?” she asked, “My living room is yellow, and I’m fixing to paint it green.”

I laughed and said maybe we should just trade houses instead. It would probably be less work than painting.

No, really. I’m serious.