Putting the Curlers In….
I had an unusually lengthy and arduous today at the mushroom; painting impossibly high and narrow walls and stairwells, and contemplating writing something about the topics I was mulling, Joe Lieberman, and Joe Lieberman, both of which made the day even worse. Perhaps tomorrow, which will be a shorter day, will work out better. Or not.
The morning did start quite beautifully, though, as the picture from the Hag veranda shows… but it kind of went downhill after that. Any ideas for me?
Hag, be careful trying to paint on a ladder (or staging) while thinking about a dweeb like Lieberman.
It’s a badge of honor for Swedes to die falling off a ladder. Unfortunately, you are not a Swede, and neither is Joe. As a Swede with exquisite balance on a ladder, while rolling ceiling white, I’d recommend classical music on public radio. Or your favorite tapes or CDs.
Get the news later.
Don’t fall off the ladder. We need you!
Aw, shucks, thanks, Dirigo. There was only one moment where I was painting a smoke detector, which you’re of course not supposed to do, and the damn thing went off right next to my ear and I did wobble a bit. I have ladder legs, though, after a few years of climbing under 40′ prosceniums and almost twenty of construction, I don’t think falling is in me.
I listened to Thom Hartmann, Ed Schultz, and Randi Rhodes.
But! You’re getting older, as are we all.
It was the funniest thing… The client, Phil, had gotten this very bonkers doorbell thing, and had failed over the weekend to get it to work, so when he came home early, we teamed up. Unfortunately, Phil can’t hear very well, and I forgot my glasses so I could hardly read the absurdly tiny print in the direction book, and much hilarity ensued. All we needed was one more monkey for a full set, but remarkably, we did get it to work in the end.
Yeah, I’ve got several smoke detectors in the house. And the batteries all need changing. So while they tweet away, seeming to say, “Change the fucking battery!” I’m trying to read the fine print on the battery box cover, which is white on white.
Haven’t figured it out yet (positive, negative, positive).
What a pain!
Hag, that’s such a great shot. You’ve got one remarkable view. I on the other hand have two now-largish 6-month-old kittens that jump up onto the sill whenever I try to peer outside. These kittens, by the way, are Maine coon cats (I’m pretty sure–I watched a program on the Animal channel that covered the attributes of the breed; raccoon-like tails [and these kittens truly have the bushiest tails I've ever seen], short legs and broad paws).
Anyway, I’ve been reading about “The Family,” that creepy religious outfit that has a house on C Street where several Reps and Dems live while in Washington. These are grown men, mind, and they seem to have their little bedrooms and hold daily/weekly/monthly prayer meetings.
There’s a lot of political skullduggery going on with this outfit and I found the whole thing quite interesting with respect to that Stupak abortion amendment in the health care legislation.
The view does make that rent seem more tolerable…. The only problem is that it’s too easy to take multiple repetitive pictures. That one was the fourth out of four: I couldn’t believe it would get better each time.
The Family is a good angle; a different, but similar brand of religious crazy like Lieberman. Good idea. I’ve barely dipped into the news since I got home; hanging with a neighbor and talking to my brother about a project, but I’m digging in now, and who knows? Maybe I’ll get a second wind after the fourth beverage…
BTW… Post a picture of your cats sometime; I love cats. I’d have them if only they could be persuaded to chip in on the rent and manage their own affairs when I’m out of town.
Ah, coon cats. They’re HUGE, beautiful, and very demanding. A friend of mine had a couple of them, and honestly, I’d go over for dinner, sit on the couch with a glass of wine, and these two shaggy sweethearts would entertain me for the whole time my friend and his wife — perfectionist cooks — were fussing over dinner. After a while, I almost believed that we were having a conversation. Gentle souls, but when I first met them, their sheer size made me a little nervous, like being in a small room with a couple of bobcats.
Anyway, lucky you. If my experience is anything to go by, they’re the feline equivalent of Golden Retrievers, as constant as the sun, and every bit as warm.
Okay, that does it. I’m definitely going to visit Portland before I croak. I’ve driven through on my way elsewhere (Seattle) but the person I was traveling with at the time argued against adding it to the itinerary. I should have insisted.