I originally started this blog to blog about work. By work I mean the stuff I make and usually what I make are mistakes. And a mess. Sometimes I come out with something cool. With a lot of mistakes. And Messes. I don’t generally post the failures on facebook because honestly, who wants to read about my failures? Unless they are funny. I mean if I set something or someone on fire while failing at something that would be funny. Not to the person that has been set a flame. Nor to the fire department. Probably not to anyone directly involved with the situation. But still, it’s one of those things that will totally be funny later.
However, here is the thing. I work at home. I have a 19 year old daughter with CP, which is entertaining enough most of the time but also in that “this will be funny later.” sort of way as I am shaking my head and maybe crying and texting for help. She and I talk all day, well, ,she talks all day. Sometimes to me. Sometimes to her elf. “Milly, can you please deliver this letter to Santa?” The cat. “Dublin, don’t even THINK about running out the door. Not on MY watch Cat.” The dog “Prim, what’s going on in that little dog brain of yours?” etc. With me she mainly asks relentless questions that I can only really half hear the first half dozen times she asks – because she is in another room and/or I have machines running and/or music on. One day recently she had to ask me something very urgently. I could tell this was urgent because she looked like it was urgent and her gestures were that it was urgent and she kept asking me over and over and over and I could only catch a word here and there. I heard Mom, Parents, Dead.. Oh cripes. Mind you this all went down in the matter of about 15 seconds. It sounds like a lot of action and it sounds like it would take eons. But 15 seconds tops. Trust me. So There I am drilling glass ,which is sort of difficult and requires concentration and the very moment I am distracted it breaks and Gabrielle is urgently talking about mom, parents and death. So I break a piece of glass. I turn off the drill. I turn off the music, I ask her to repeat herself. It turns out what she was urgently saying was “did Grandma’s mom and dad die yet cause I want to meet them.” Yes. One died 22 years ago, the other died 42 years ago. Don’t you think you would have, oh, I dunno, met them before now if they were still alive? She didn’t think of that. But she is now very sad they are dead because she really wanted to meet them.
Anyhow, my point is that I am stranded at home with a lunatic, 3 cats and a dog. The cats are determined to kill every lizard and leave their decapitated heads at the door for me (gee, thanks.) and the dog is going to eat the mail carrier damn it. If it is the last thing she does she WILL kill the mail carrier.
This is what I have been reduced to. This is the action in my life. That and hating CVS. And my printer. And my next door neighbor. And the damn re-make parody songs that Gabrielle listens to of Taylor Swift.
No one may be very interested in my days. I wouldn’t blame you. But the Gabrielle comments alone may be slightly entertaining, if you are not me. Also I am pretty creative in my plots to overthrow CVS and Cannon and Dublin my orange cat is smarter than most people in government at the moment so he is always up to something. Plus you can read about how I set a piece of paper on fire last night with my soldering iron and not one person in the house reacted when I was saying. “fire. Um, seriously. Fire. Can someone help me please? ” They didn’t even pause in their conversation actually. Luckily I had a glass of water I had been drinking that I used to extinguish it. Small fire actually, but you know, help when asked for would be lovely.
You can also hear of my adventures in the lair. The lair is being rearranged slowly. Slowly. Slowly. The Lair used to be our dining room. But since I don’t really ever cook what is the point? We have a kitchen table and we have (ok, ok, we had, I broke the glass and then used the frame for a planter.) a table set on the back patio. How much of one house should be devoted to eating? When I had the drill press on the kitchen counter Brian finally saw my point of view about needing a dedicated work area. Except he saw my point of view when I was super busy with orders and the kids were all here instead of over the summer when the kids were away and I didn’t have as much work. So the move into the lair was messy. (he picked up everything I owned and tossed it in the direction of the dining room pretty much.) and crowded and not at all organized and there were a lot of boxes. So the lair is being re-vamped because I couldn’t work like that. I mean I can work in a mess, but it has to be a mess of my making because then I know where everything is. There IS a difference. Trust me. Anyhow, at the moment I am in Lair Limbo and there will be things moved around. However, the entire dining room has three outlets. three. That’s it. One of which is next to the front door on a short wall. I am not sure what anyone thought would be plugged in there. My theory is that there is also an outlet on the other side of that same wall in the kitchen which is somewhat useful so basically the builders were lazy. The other is on the back wall behind any manner of of shelving units right now and on the main wall. I can[t get near any of the second two with my equipment right now. So the glass grinder, drill press, printer that sometimes works, soldering iron, heat gun and lamp are all plugged into a surge protector which is plugged into an extension cord which is then plugged into a wall. Which goes directly across the middle of the room, the entry way, the door way etc and is a perfect, I mean absolutely perfect, trap for Gabrielle to trip over and bring down the entire operation and possibly set the entire house on fire. So that will need to be addressed shortly. I am on borrowed time at the moment.
So as you can see, although what I do doesn’t seem to interest anyone I personally know, like Brian. Or my kids. I do need to talk about stuff sometimes otherwise it gets stuck in my head and that is NOT a good place to be stuck. Trust me. I will try to keep you all 4 of you maybe? entertained by my ineptitude in electrical work, my possible future electrocution while trying to add outlets and my inability to organize or prioritize to Brian’s liking. Good times are ahead, my friends.