Stalking the Endangered Dust Rhino

It all started so innocently - a lovely day, some open windows inviting the fresh air to sweep through.

With the breeze came insect life of some sort. Not much...a bug or two.

That night, the cats took it in turns to stare intently at a spot on the wall. Rook and Maya were especially enthralled. Someone and I watched them track the blurry wee shadow on the wall. Finally, Someone decided to step in - he brushed the buggy visitor off the wall. Rather than obligingly landing on the floor for kitty amusement, it flew up into the living room light fixture. The cats resumed their staring.

Someone took pity on them and unscrewed the light cover, encouraging the critter to obey the law...of gravity...and visit out lovely Pergo floor - it's where all the "in" people go.

Then Someone took a good look at the fan/light fixture. Umm...have I mentioned I'm a crappy housekeeper? Because, yeah...

First he wanted a new light bulb because one of them has been burned out for a while. Then he wanted a dish towel because it seems the Rare Fan-Dwelling Dust Rhino has been rather more active than he'd like up there.

He brushed down a few Rhino turds.

Rook was curious. "If I did something like that on the floor, you'd swat me!"

"Seriously, people - who does this in the house??" It was something of an epic Rhino leaving...

The Rhino tried to leave a deposit on Someone's head, but he wasn't having it.

I think he got some in his mouth...

Bless 'im...he's better than Mike Rowe for getting a dirty job done. Wait...what am I saying?? I didn't mean it Mike...I'm still your number one fangirl, honest! C'mere and I'll prove it!!

Even Rook got covered in Rhino remnants.

"Why, Mama, why?"

I guess I need to thin the herd a bit. I hope Someone doesn't notice the bedroom fan any time soon...

From Horizontal to Vertical

Mum was visiting for Thanksgiving and stayed the weekend. We thought the Evil Genius was going to be away from Friday through Sunday, and we planned to clean his room and get rid of one or two thousand extraneous toys on Saturday. He's a pretty good kid, but he's still a kid, and they're not notorious for keeping things tidy or giving up a single plaything, even if it is so mangled it doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to its original form.

For your viewing pleasure, I present a before picture in video form:



Alas, the Evil Genius didn't get to go play in more amusing climes, so we had to limit our purging to a few items stealthily bagged while the boy watched Peter Pan and laughed like a loon.

In the midst of our merriment, Someone happened to call. Bird's room in that video up there? Is pretty much how it looked while Someone was visiting. He wanted to know how on earth I clean all that up, and was it a matter of turning the mess from horizontal to vertical?



Yes. Yes it is.

Mooning About

I know I've done this song before...but I was playing around with my camera and Youtube tonight and figured I'd do it again, a more extended version.



I spent several peaceful hours out in the moonlight last night, recharging and playing with one of the wild kittens. It was lovely.

I'll be cleaning house today. I may even remember to take before and after pics...but may not - this place is beyond a mess, and I'm not sure I want to risk the EPA declaring it a disaster area (unless they are also going to fund clean-up).

Y'all have a good day - I'm off to battle Dust Critters of Doom.

Clean(ish) Getaway

Whew.

Where's my cabana boy? I need a frosty beverage.

Yesterday I tackled the Evil Genius' room.

I'm a poor housekeeper (now there's a magazine I bet would sell like hotcakes - Poor Housekeeping - a magazine for everyone else!) and don't get on there as often as I should. I try to keep up with his mess, but I'm a mere mortal...and I think even Hercules would find Bird's room a challenge.

I had a moment of blogging flakiness, though, and forgot to photograph the "before" until I'd been at it a while, about halfway through.

Yes, his bed has a slide. Jealous? Yeah, me too...

The train table under the bed...the bane of my existence. I will be so very happy when we can be rid of it...it doesn't fit in his room, collects mess, and is awkward to clean around, under, over, and through.

It took most of yesterday and part of this morning to wade through all that - but only because I took frequent breaks to unbend and remind my spine and legs that, while we want to get into shape, pretzel isn't what I had in mind.

I could have finished last night, but decided that going to bed before three seemed like a good idea. I got it done before breakfast this morning.

I will eventually paint over the masterpieces on the walls...but for now, there's no point, he'll only doodle some more. Yes, I let him write on the walls - but only in his room. Why not? A couple of gallons of Killz and paint and it's all gone, and meanwhile, he has a little artistic freedom.

Hey, look, it's a floor!

I love Pergo - it's so forgiving.

I don't think he has enough toys. Most of this was on the floor, under the bed, under the dresser, on the train table...and that's not including the games and puzzles I sorted out, boxed, and stacked neatly in the closet.

Any bets as to how long it takes him to return his room to its natural state of chaos?

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la...

What is the sound of a blogger not blogging?

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la-ah-ah-ahchoo!

I'm feeling especially grumpy today, so I'm cleaning the Evil Genius' room...because that's how one gets happy, right? Cleaning up somebody else's mess? I mean...I'm always so freakin' cheerful about picking random clothing up off the floor, aren't I? And clearly I have paroxysms of delight when I locate dirty cups, dishes, or flatware...the nastier, the better, and if it's weeks old and crusty, sticky, or covered with alien civilizations, even better! Bonus point if it waves at me, uses sign language, speaks, or employs semaphores to communicate.

Bird is helping, for a change - although it's difficult to find things he can "help" with at this stage, since just about everything's on the floor (including my butt - I use the scootch-n-clean method), there's really nowhere for him to walk, stand, or sit. I finally got his bed cleared off, and I sent the little guy in to lob all his stuffed animals up there - that should make a fair chunk of space for us to work with.

I had to stop and take a break; I was overwhelmed by a rampaging dust rhino when I upset the Lego pile it was nesting on. Dust critters are fierce when they're protecting their young! It chased me right out of the room, and I decided to fall back, regroup, and fortify myself with some blog time and a fudgesicle. With any luck, the dust Velociraptor will have finished off the rhino and the vorpal dust-bunnies before I dive back into the fray. Bless him, the boy is still in there, doing battle with the cat-hair Jabberwoky. I believe he's using a spent glow stick for his blade, and hark! Is that the distinct sound of a snicker-snack coming from his room?? Callooh! Callay!

We'll get the bandersnatch later...I'm pretty sure they're allergic to Windex.

Meanwhile, I am still holding out hope (slender, slender hope) that Bob the Wonder Computer will be fixed today and I'll be back to my bloggy self tomorrow.

Until then, I'm off to hunt endangered dust beasties to extinction...if they don't kill me first.

Another Fine Mess

*Edit - I decided to play along with Marcy and join the G.I.R.L party, because why not??

Hmm. No, not fine. Not fine at all. Hateful and mean, that mess. Awful, evil, and probably inhabited by aliens.

What mess?

Oh, wait, I'll show you!


I shot this from the doorway because I couldn't figure out how to get in there. How does he get to bed??


To get this photo, I had to levitate over all that mess and hover in the corner.


This is under the bed, which is supposed to be a fort kind of thingy. We took it down because it made making the bed and cleaning too difficult, and the Evil Genius asked if we would leave it off so he had more room to play.

I think he really meant "room to make messes and not clean them up."

Not pictured? Under all of that stuff...under the toys, books, crayons, puzzle pieces and random other junque? Almost an entire box's worth of Cheez-Its crackers (a staple around here), smushed to smithereens. Smithereens that stuck to me as I sat on the floor, cleaning inch by inch all yesterday afternoon because apparently I am insane.

What, you don't clean when you're sick??

Now, don't you wish you could flip a switch and go from that horror above to the scenes below? Yeah, me too...I'd like my nearly five hours back.


Holy crap, is that a floor? Who knew that was in there?? I thought his bed rested on the Golgothan Mess Monster (second and lesser known cousin of the Golgothan shit monster featured in the movie Dogma).


I have much love for the dragon/toy hanger thingy - it was a gift from my friend K, who got it from her secret love Ikea during one of their brief, torrid affairs. Unlike much of what you get from Ikea, it doesn't matter if the toys aren't metric - they still fit. See the cat's face? She's all like "Ohmuhgawd, it's not all bumpy and shifty when I walk! Am I in the right place??"

Whew...no monsters, no mess, just an aircraft carrier - the same one the cat likes to perch on.

Yes, it took me almost five hours. I could say it's because I was (and am) sick. I could say it's because we had friends come over and I had to stop. Both true.

It would likely have gone faster if I didn't give a dang about sorting things into bins in some kind of order and just dumped stuff in there. If I didn't mind mixing up puzzle pieces and games, it would have been much faster. If I didn't have to sweep every few inches because I sit on the floor to sort and the crumbs were sticking to me and making me itch, it would have been done in half the time. I swept so many times, I think there may be permanent straw marks on the Pergo. Also, I was (and am) sick, my back hurt, and there was a hiccup in the space/time continuum. Yeah.

Or I could own up to the fact that my kid has too freakin' many toys, games, and general stuff and I am a crap housekeeper.

Nah...I'm going with the space/time thingy.

Oh, well - if our finances get bad enough, I could always open my own Toys-R-Us; we already have the inventory!

I think I Figured It Out

I know we're all just baffled by my sudden need to clean. OK, maybe it's just me and Mum (who is, I'm sure, scratching her head in bewilderment and wondering what medication I'm on and why I didn't start taking it sooner) who are wondering, but pretend, OK? I crave validation.

Were I knocked up, I could blame nesting, although when I was pregnant, I never wanted to clean a damn thing (especially not the cat boxes but y'all must know how that went)(What is it with cat boxes, anyway??). But I'm not knocked up. In case you wondered. I'd hate to leave you in suspense. Where was I?

Oh, right, cleaning. Whew, nice clean...er...dirty...er...safe subject.

So why the sudden interest in a diminished stockpile of cat hair, dust Yetiiiiii (Yeti? Yeties? How do you pluralize that??), and fossilized cat barf? Why get rid of the emergency supply of stale Cheerios under the couch, our collection of armor piercing french fries around the computer desk, the dirty laundry that seems to be the only unifying decorative factor throughout the house?

I think I figured it out.

I think it's because we have new neighbors. Yep. It's because there's the tiniest chance they could come over here, maybe come inside and hang out a bit. I can't keep them in the yard forever, can I? And if they do want to socialize, I'd like to have a home that doesn't look like a frat-house inside. Also, I really don't want them seeing the mess and thereafter politely accepting baked goods from me with a smile and, when I'm gone, dumping them in the trash ("Have you seen her messy house? I'm not eating anything that came out of there unless it was shrink-wrapped by the manufacturer first!)(Although my kitchen is not messy. Just the rest of the house.).

I couldn't just be tired of a mess and suddenly realize that if I want a clean house, I have to clean it. Nope, that couldn't be it.

What I am curious to know is what T's excuse is - he's not pregnant and nesting (if he is, I get publishing rights) and I don't think he's ever given a fig for what anyone thinks of the state of our home. So why's he all of a sudden taking it upon himself to empty and rearrange the garage so we can open van and freezer doors at the same time? Why do three loads of dishes in two days without nagging on my part (I feel so empty and unnecessary), and take out the trash just because - gasp - it's full??

Yeah, I'm lookin' for the pod. Next month. After the garage is completely rearranged and we've gone through our room. Or maybe the month after, once the dining room is tidy. Or...well, why look for the pod, really? I mean...he's probably happy being kidnapped by aliens, right? Guys love power tools, and what's better than alien power tools? That's all a probe is, right? Right.

So, yeah...umm...I'm going to sweep over there, now...

Adventures in Plumbers

The first plumber laughed when I mentioned repairing the pipe - no one really does that any more. I knew that, but I had to ask. They'll be calling me to let me know when they can come look and estimate how much of their new summer house on the lake they can pay for with my job.

The second one asked me how long the pipe was. Umm...hmm. I told him "I'm a girl - you seriously expect me to have any sense of distance?? It's maybe...umm...four Astro Van lengths." He then asked if my lawn was...manicured. Hah!! Double hah!! I mean no. No it isn't. Ah, well, then they don't have rent a ditch digger but can use their bobcat to tear up the yard dig out the pipe, saving some money. He told me, without even having to come look, "$500". I guess they aren't paying anyone's tuition this year, but I'm also worried that they'll get here and the estimate will turn into a bill for over two-thousand.

The third one informed me that "blue polybutylene is a bad word around there", but they were really very nice and will call me when they can come have a look and estimate the cost of that new sporty car they've been looking at.

Number four sounded a little...slow...and I'm not at all sure I'll have them do the work even if they promise it'll only cost a dollar. They're coming out tomorrow, and we'll see if first impressions are wrong. Meanwhile, I think I hear them calculating what it'll cost to paint the interiors of their homes.

Number five doesn't do that kind of thing, but just happened to have a friend visiting who does, so he came out to look this afternoon. I liked this one a good bit - he was nice to the Evil Genius, was quite affable to me, and certainly looked and sounded like he knew what he was doing. He's calling back tomorrow with his estimate once he finds out how much dinner at Outback a ditch digger will be - seems my pipe's a good four feet down, and not even a day laborer wants to dig that thing out.

The last one who spoke to me today did an estimate over the phone and sounded bored about it. Call me silly, but I just don't trust estimates done over the phone for work like this - I get the feeling they're just making up a random number that sounds nice, knowing very well that they'll get out here to do the work and start adding to the charges. I don't think I'll be calling them back.

Tomorrow I have a few more coming out to look and do their figuring - I'm thinking someone's wedding, a Caribbean vacation, and a strand of cultured pearls at the least.

At this rate, I'll have a plumbers convention in my front yard tomorrow...but maybe I'll also have a repaired pipe by next week.

Let's dish...

...wash.

Yes, dish wash.

But first, I simply must share two little gems from Bird.

The first is from yesterday; my son decided to hold a concert in my honor. He built a microphone from some magnet-and-ball things that he got for his birthday. Then he struck his concert pose - he's modeling himself after Green Day (whom he's never seen or heard) by performing in boxer shorts and a flannel shirt. A fashion plate my boy isn't. He then proceeded to scream sing his latest hit "Why won't you give me a chance, just give me a chaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnce?!?!?" Soon to top the charts, I'm sure. After I called mum and let her have a listen to this gem and we both had a giggle, Bird decided that I had to sing into the microphone...after all, I do it all the time on stage, so why not in the kitchen? I took my turn and handed it back to him, and asked him if he could sing something a little softer and sweeter. He said "No, mommy, I'm up to the rock star now, and soft and quiet isn't the rock star. I have to be loud." Ok, so maybe that's only funny if you're a mum or grandmum...but I got a chuckle out of it.

The second is from this morning - he came scampering into the kitchen and proclaimed "Mommy, you won't believe this - in the window I saw a cloud that looks just like the goddess! But it's a little huger because it has winds behind it." This is the same boy who stood staring out the living room window yesterday quietly saying "Goddess, can I please have some more snow now? I know the nights are longer for you than they are here, but please may I have some more snow to play with now? My name is (redacted) and I would like to have some more snow please." Awww....

Ok, so dishes. Yeah, I'm following the cuteness with a bit of a gripe. I am wondering about men's eyesight. I think they have a peculiar blind spot when it comes to certain things. Like selective hearing...it's selective vision.

For instance...dishes. I don't believe for a moment that they don't understand why there're no cups for them to drink from, and it can't possibly be a mystery why they can't get to the faucet because the sinks (yes, plural) are overflowing with dirty dishes. Are they seeing an empty sink, really? Do they think it's an invisible force blocking them from the faucet? Do they believe that dish-and-cup-eating gremlins reside in the house, and when clean dishes are finally put away, it's the dish fairy making more? I'd really like to know.

It must be a guy thing, because even my mum, who doesn't live here, puts away dishes when they're clean, loads up the dishwasher, and runs it.

Now, T does occasionally run dishes...sometimes even when I haven't nagged him for help for three or four days. He puts them away, too, once in a while. I try to remember to thank him, although no one thanks me fore simply doing what needs to be done 'round here. But usually, we have what's been going on for the last couple of weeks - I'll manage to get the sinks emptied, run dishes or hand wash them, and put most of them away. I'll run the dishwasher in the afternoon, one last load, and then go out in the evening to party like it's nineteen-ninety-nine get some work done, pick up groceries, take Bird to our play/crafting group. I'll come home to a sink full of dishes (how, how, HOW do they use so many dishes in just a few hours???) and a dishwasher full of clean ones. Maybe the next day I'm busy, so don't get it unloaded. Someone will open the dishwasher to take out a clean cup to use, but doesn't give homes to all the other poor dishes that long to be put away. This can go on for days - pulling clean ones out to use and dump in the sink but never putting them away and reloading the dishwasher. No wonder married men die first...their wives are murdering them in their sleep over things like this!!

So, can you guess what I did first thing this morning?