HOA=Haven of Asses

Last weekend I exchanged a series of emails with the Homeowners Association regarding our broken garden gate. The week before that I had a frustrating phone call with the same people about a dead azalea. The bush is right in front of our house. I want to dig it up and replace it with another azalea. I received this mind boggling response:
“Well, you have to get written permission and it has to be the same color.”

Right.

While you ponder that bit of idiocy, get this: on Saturday we had a note shoved under our door saying that we were in violation of HOA standards.

1. house numbers missing from back gate
2. need to plant bush to hide cable wires in front of house

Yes, that would be the gate that is shattered right where the numbers hang. Yes, they want me to plant a bush to hide wires but won't let me dig up the dead one without written permission.

Seriously, someone needs to be punched. Hard.

Tom

The boys Godfather, “Uncle" Tom, came to visit us last week. He was in town for a very important conference but had to take time out to come be tickled, deafened by screeching, hugged, kissed, chased, and beaten at Wii games.

We had a nice visit, though it was far too short and far too long in coming. Ethan keeps asking when we can go to Texas and see Uncle Tom again. I tell him that Tom is probably still recovering from the beating he took at Wii cow races.

The Work-ethic of Amy's Muscles....

It used to be that if I over-did a work out or spent too much time lugging mulch around the yard, my muscles would be sore and perhaps a bit tense. They were kind and gentle about it; a very subtle twinge was all it took to get my attention.

These days my muscles have been seduced into some counter-culture demonic cult where pain is only another way of saying: “Wassup? How you been? Oh, you were sleeping? Sucks-to-be-YOU!”

I woke up at 4:30am crying out in pain. All I wanted to do was sit up. The problem was: my rebellious back, neck, and shoulder muscles were staging a sit-in. Such protests are much more effective when you put large amounts of people, or muscle cells, in one place. Therefore, the back and shoulder muscle cells crawled right on up and knotted together in my neck. I’m sure they were quite cozy. I was crying.

The details of the rest of the morning are a bit fuzzy due to some darvocet (which made me queasy and itchy for the next 4 hours. Try dry-heaving without moving your head. Yeah, it’s that much fun) and a whole lot bleaching my brain of the misery I put Mark through.

Anyway, I haven’t done much of anything today. I can now move my head so that my chin is halfway between the midline and my right shoulder. I can almost lift that same right arm completely over my head. Moving my chin towards my chest, however, incites a level of pain that should only occur during childbirth or amputation performed with a rusty pocketknife.

Stupid damn old-people muscles.

The List

Because I am horrible about doing things without a firm deadline and a great deal of nagging, I give you "the List". This is the list of things I need to do to the house before it goes on the market. Items in red have been completed.

The List

Kitchen
1. paint ceiling
2. replace fridge
3. replace sink
4. paint utility room
5. touch up pantry paint
6. replace fuse-box

Dining Room
1. replace chandelier
2. touch-up paint
3. touch up trim

Hallway/Entryway
1. fix chipped paint

2. paint walls
3. paint trim

Living Room
1. touch up paint and trim
2. curtains

Office
1. fix ceiling
2. paint ceiling

Ethan’s room
1. curtains

Boy’s bath
1. finish wallpaper
2. fix tile

Upstairs hall
1. paint walls
2. paint trim

Master bedroom
1. paint ceiling
2. paint trim
3. shades

Master bath
1. paint ceiling
2. paint walls
3. fix/clean molded tile
4. fix shower head

Back yard
1. repair brick wall
2. dig up bush and replace at wall
3. dig up bush and replace at house
4. fix shed latch
5. replace gate (thanks stupid tornado)

6. plant flowers

Front yard
1. trim bushes
2. mulch
3. plant flowers
4. remove dead azalea

Hot

It’s so hot that our cactus has decided to bloom. This thing is a hold-over from the previous owners and despite my horrid track-record with most plants, it has survived and flourished. This, however, is the first time it’s ever bloomed.

Also, little boys are cute, even when dripping with sweat.

Grumble Grumble Yawn

I didn't take a nap yesterday, choosing instead to play Candyland with Ethan. Then I stayed up late last night reading. So, I was very tired when a not-so-little boy came stumbling into our room at 2am wanting to sleep in our bed. Usually when this happens I can convince him to go back to his own bed. This time my loving husband sabotaged me.

I got up and started to tell Ethan to come with me and I'd tuck him back in. Mark rolled over at that point and said "Sure buddy, hop up here." Then he patted the spot in the bed I'd just vacated. Folks, our bed isn't that big. There isn't a bed big enough to accommodate Mark and Ethan AND me. Mark's a bed hog as it is and sleeping with Ethan is a little like sleeping with one of those huge skeletons from high school biology classrooms. Only, some goth teenager has taken the opportunity to file sharp edges on ever single bone in that skeleton. Sleeping with a bag of pointy edges that flail about at random intervals isn't my idea of sleeping at all.

Too late, though. Ethan was snuggled down on my side of the bed. He even appropriated both my pillows. When I tried to move him he started whimpering. Mark was already snoring again. I gave up. There's not much fight in me at 2am. I trudged to Ethan's room and tried to doze in his bed.

We need to buy that kid a new mattress.

At 4am I'd had enough. I went back in our room, picked up all 40lbs of floppy legs and arms and carried him back to his bed. He didn't so much as open his eyes.

This morning when I was trying to hide under the covers, I reminded Mark of how he betrayed me and gave up my bed to his son. Both he and Ethan stared at me like I was crazy. Mark said I had dreamed it all. Ethan grinned like the Cheshire Cat that he is and said "Yup, Mamma, you dreamed it all up. Silly Mamma."

Grumble.

No Warning

I don’t like severe thunderstorms. I hate tornadoes. I had this traumatic experience as a teenager. I won’t bore you with the details, but let me just say that the movie Twister made me cry.

Yesterday, after Ian’s nap, I was taking a break from housework and playing on my computer. (Yes it really was just a break. Yesterday morning I shaved the dog, paid bills, and helped Shannon figure out an html code. So: back off!) The power flickered. Now I just got my computer up and running after a semi-serious meltdown. I wasn’t taking any chances. I turned off the power in the office and went to check the weather the old fashioned way. When I opened the door Katya sprinted inside and cowered behind my legs. Not a good sign.

One look at the sky had me concerned. I told Ethan to come in the kitchen. Ian, thank goodness, was already nearby. Less than 2 minutes after the first flicker of the power the trees suddenly bent double. I grabbed the boys and ran to the utility closet. Katya, who abhors that closet, was right on my heels. The flashlight was already in the closet, which is good because I didn’t have time to think about anything beyond shutting the door and trying not to scare the boys. That was hard, considering that I was scared out of my wits. Ethan was asking tons of questions and Katya was whining and trying to crawl into my arms. My arms were full of Ian - sorry doggy. The power went out and didn’t come back on.

We could hear the rain and the roaring of the wind. I never heard the stereotypical train noise. The weatherman said there was a possible tornado about 5 miles north of us. What we got was probably just severe straight line winds. I don’t care, the wind was terrifying. Our house is surrounded by huge oak trees. I wasn’t taking any chances.

Within 10 minutes the wind had calmed enough for me to crack open the door and look out the kitchen windows. Five minutes after that the sky was starting to clear. It was over that fast.

Sadly, there was a person killed just a few miles away when a huge tree crushed the car he/she was riding in. There are two homes on our street with big trees through their roofs. Our back garden gate wasn’t latched, so when the wind caught it, it slammed against the door and broke in pieces. The grapevines were pulled off the trellis and several medium sized branches fell in the yard. Across the parking lot there are huge branches down on the playground.

Our power was only out for four hours. It came back on in time for me to watch the news and see the warnings of another round of storms coming in. A massive cell spawned several tornadoes south of us but we only got heavy rain and some wind. Typical thunderstorm wind, not scary-run-for-the-shelter wind.

There wasn’t time for the sirens to go off. Schools were letting out and children were in the middle of cross walks. There was time to grab the kids and scurry to shelter. That’s all we had. I can’t make you appreciate the speed of the storms. I’ve been through dozens of tornado warnings and scary storm situations but this one still astounds me with the suddenness with which it was upon us.

We’re ok. Our friends are ok and our neighbors are ok. I’ll never again underestimate the severity of DC weather.