Thursday, March 12, 2009
A New Person in My Life
I have a new person in my life. Well, actually she has been around since mid-October. She is with me whenever I am out and about on errands or traveling. Most times we are not engaged with each other, but on occasion she is nice to have around.
Unfortunately she is sometimes a bit slow. On a trip to the T-town area last month my husband and I found ourselves a bit exasperated with her for her lack of ability to think on her feet quickly.
And sometimes she is just plain confused and repeats the same phrase over and over. We had a verbal confrontation recently as she was helping me with a Mobile Meals route. Luckily she and I were the only two in the vehicle - otherwise people might begin to wonder about my sanity.
My husband and I have tried to come up with an appropriate name for her. (Notice I said appropriate. . .she had been called several things!) I suggested Miss Moneypenney recently. He insisted she would have to call him James. I don't really think that will work. The conversation went downhill from there as he suggested several other Bond names. Somehow I can't see myself addressing her as any of them, especially with teenage boys in the vehicle.
So for now she is My Girl - just a voice amongst My People.
simple faith
I have a new person in my life. Well, actually she has been around since mid-October. She is with me whenever I am out and about on errands or traveling. Most times we are not engaged with each other, but on occasion she is nice to have around.
Unfortunately she is sometimes a bit slow. On a trip to the T-town area last month my husband and I found ourselves a bit exasperated with her for her lack of ability to think on her feet quickly.
And sometimes she is just plain confused and repeats the same phrase over and over. We had a verbal confrontation recently as she was helping me with a Mobile Meals route. Luckily she and I were the only two in the vehicle - otherwise people might begin to wonder about my sanity.
My husband and I have tried to come up with an appropriate name for her. (Notice I said appropriate. . .she had been called several things!) I suggested Miss Moneypenney recently. He insisted she would have to call him James. I don't really think that will work. The conversation went downhill from there as he suggested several other Bond names. Somehow I can't see myself addressing her as any of them, especially with teenage boys in the vehicle.
So for now she is My Girl - just a voice amongst My People.
simple faith
Friday, April 25, 2008
Laundry Lady Lamentations
Last week my people were just hanging at the house one morning. Volunteer/Meeting Girl was working on a project and preparing for a meeting. The Laundry Lady was on day 2 of trying to make the mountains of laundry disappear. It was all going calmly and relatively well - the morning seemed to be on track.
About midmorning, as meeting time was approaching, the Laundry Lady went to make the "switch". You know, taking the stuff out of the dryer and putting the next load from the washing machine to the dryer. All in hopes of repeating the process in a timely manner throughout the day.
The large load of khaki shorts and pants was in the moving process. A couple of pair were thrown in the dryer when something caught the Laundry Lady's eye. . . something icy blue - definitely out of place amongst the khaki. Further examination revealed the substance to be gum.
The Laundry Lady sighs. Volunteer/Meeting Girl checks the time. And the Queen of Hearts, well she roars, "Off with their heads!!" She obviously assumes the boys are to blame - actually everyone assumes the boys are to blame.
A deviation from the time schedule is required while the Laundry Lady shakes out every piece of clothing from the load. Also she checks every item for more gum. There is plenty to be found. She even checks each pocket of the several pair of khaki CARGO shorts and pants that make up the load. A part of her is just wanting to make sure an entire pack of gum is not still in a pocket. The Queen of Hearts is secretly hoping to find the offender.
All the items are then reloaded into the washer. Hopefully another round will get rid of any sticky stuff.
After Volunteer/Meeting Girl is back home, the Laundry Lady revisits the problem. While loading the khakis into the dryer she pulls off a few more icy blue pieces. Saying a quick prayer of protection, she pushes the start button on the dryer.
All seems to be well as she unloads the dryer. Nothing appears to be stuck together or ruined. A quick peek into the dryer shows no signs of damage either. Whew! She opens the washer to make the next "switch" and suddenly realizes she is somewhat stuck to the floor. Yes, by something icy blue.
"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!", yells the Queen of Hearts. But with whose head? Everyone realizes that the offender has not been identified. Calmer voices prevail. The Mom is in completely control by the time the boys are picked up from school.
This week the Laundry Lady checked ALL the pockets in the khaki load. Her findings? A couple of quarters, a movie ticket, and an entire pack of icy blue gum.
Sigh - someone is going to have to learn to do his laundry if this keeps up!
simple faith
Last week my people were just hanging at the house one morning. Volunteer/Meeting Girl was working on a project and preparing for a meeting. The Laundry Lady was on day 2 of trying to make the mountains of laundry disappear. It was all going calmly and relatively well - the morning seemed to be on track.
About midmorning, as meeting time was approaching, the Laundry Lady went to make the "switch". You know, taking the stuff out of the dryer and putting the next load from the washing machine to the dryer. All in hopes of repeating the process in a timely manner throughout the day.
The large load of khaki shorts and pants was in the moving process. A couple of pair were thrown in the dryer when something caught the Laundry Lady's eye. . . something icy blue - definitely out of place amongst the khaki. Further examination revealed the substance to be gum.
The Laundry Lady sighs. Volunteer/Meeting Girl checks the time. And the Queen of Hearts, well she roars, "Off with their heads!!" She obviously assumes the boys are to blame - actually everyone assumes the boys are to blame.
A deviation from the time schedule is required while the Laundry Lady shakes out every piece of clothing from the load. Also she checks every item for more gum. There is plenty to be found. She even checks each pocket of the several pair of khaki CARGO shorts and pants that make up the load. A part of her is just wanting to make sure an entire pack of gum is not still in a pocket. The Queen of Hearts is secretly hoping to find the offender.
All the items are then reloaded into the washer. Hopefully another round will get rid of any sticky stuff.
After Volunteer/Meeting Girl is back home, the Laundry Lady revisits the problem. While loading the khakis into the dryer she pulls off a few more icy blue pieces. Saying a quick prayer of protection, she pushes the start button on the dryer.
All seems to be well as she unloads the dryer. Nothing appears to be stuck together or ruined. A quick peek into the dryer shows no signs of damage either. Whew! She opens the washer to make the next "switch" and suddenly realizes she is somewhat stuck to the floor. Yes, by something icy blue.
"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!", yells the Queen of Hearts. But with whose head? Everyone realizes that the offender has not been identified. Calmer voices prevail. The Mom is in completely control by the time the boys are picked up from school.
This week the Laundry Lady checked ALL the pockets in the khaki load. Her findings? A couple of quarters, a movie ticket, and an entire pack of icy blue gum.
Sigh - someone is going to have to learn to do his laundry if this keeps up!
simple faith
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Hazard Pay
For a couple of years now I have petitioned for hazard pay for the laundry lady. It started a couple of summers ago when I opened the trunk of things that had spent a week at Boy Scout camp with my youngest son. The smell literally made me take a step back.
Things have not changed since. Recently I have even found myself walking through the house while they are at school spraying the Febreze like a mad woman.
The following conversation took place Saturday afternoon. My husband is driving, I am in the passenger seat and my youngest son is in the back - having just completed a football game. I have spent the few blocks from the field to our house alternating between trying to hold my breath and taking quick breaths with my hand under my nose. We are pulling into the garage when it begins.
Youngest son: "Something smells."
Mom: "It's you."
Son: "No - something smells."
Mom: "Honey, it's you."
Son: "No. The garage smells like Lowe's."
Mom: "Oh - Dad picked up some stuff for the lawn. You need to put your football stuff in the basket outside."
Yes, I said the basket outside - as in on the back patio. I have begun making him put his really smelly stuff in a laundry basket outside until the laundry lady can wash it.
Anyone want to sign a petition?
simple faith
For a couple of years now I have petitioned for hazard pay for the laundry lady. It started a couple of summers ago when I opened the trunk of things that had spent a week at Boy Scout camp with my youngest son. The smell literally made me take a step back.
Things have not changed since. Recently I have even found myself walking through the house while they are at school spraying the Febreze like a mad woman.
The following conversation took place Saturday afternoon. My husband is driving, I am in the passenger seat and my youngest son is in the back - having just completed a football game. I have spent the few blocks from the field to our house alternating between trying to hold my breath and taking quick breaths with my hand under my nose. We are pulling into the garage when it begins.
Youngest son: "Something smells."
Mom: "It's you."
Son: "No - something smells."
Mom: "Honey, it's you."
Son: "No. The garage smells like Lowe's."
Mom: "Oh - Dad picked up some stuff for the lawn. You need to put your football stuff in the basket outside."
Yes, I said the basket outside - as in on the back patio. I have begun making him put his really smelly stuff in a laundry basket outside until the laundry lady can wash it.
Anyone want to sign a petition?
simple faith
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Another Chance
It was mid-morning on a recent Friday. My husband was at work and my boys gone until late afternoon. I finished the daily "thing to be done" and suddenly paused - I was, for all intents and purposes, caught up.
It was an odd sensation for it rarely happens. I was not quite sure my next step for the day. . .
Then she arrived. My project manager called us into a meeting. Most of my people arrived expectantly, although there are always the few who seem to come just for the sheer joy of dispensing guilt.
We all agreed the cleaning lady deserved the day off. Although there were, as always, some deep cleaning projects that needed attention, she had been so consistent during the week that things looked great. The deluge of rain falling outside pretty much left outdoor projects for another day. The baker half-heartedly offered for a day of baking goodies. The fitness trainer cleared her throat in the background - she is SO sassy!
The project manager decided it was time for a walk through. Expectations were high as we began. She quietly moved from room to room, stopping in my bedroom. As she surveyed the room her eyes stopped in the corner. An audible gasp was heard - surely she would not allow that! But allow it she did. She walked to the corner, picked up the large cardboard box and walked to the front room. Scrapbook girl had been given the nod.
My people are leary of scrapbook girl. Her record is far from shiny. In fact, the cardboard box has stood as a testament of her shortcomings for a couple of years.
It was probably the summer of 2005 when the real saga began. My boys had taken a trip with Grandparents and a cousin - a really cool trip that had allowed no parents. . .even though we asked. . .and offered to pay our way. . . . . But I digress.
The trip was in the summer of 2004. Of course it was the summer of the next year before scrapbook girl had all the pictures developed and supplies gathered to begin working. She suffers from delusional tendencies (another reason we are so leary of her) because she was certain the boys would want to help her with the project. Even though they protested greatly, she continued to believe. She spread the entire project out on the dining table. She tried to draw them in with questions - they did not budge. She began working on ideas, sharing them with the boys who continued to not be interested. And in one last moment of complete delusionality, she decided to leave the project out. Afterall, in her idealistic world, they couldn't resist for the entire summer! (Once again, do you see why we are so leary of her?)
But the boys, being boys, did resist the entire summer. And for the entire summer the project lay spread out on the dining table. School eventually began and the cleaning lady began her usual "getting the place back in shape" routine. With a heavy sigh and a roll of the eyes at scrapbook girl, she gathered up every last piece of the project and dumped it in a large cardboard box. The very cardboard box the project manager had just brought back to the dining table.
Scrapbook girl was determined to redeem herself in the eyes of my people. Over the last several months she had been buying more paper and supplies that she was sure would inspire her even more if the project was ever allowed out again. (We try to control her, but perhaps it is becoming obvious to you that is quite difficult.) She set to work immediately and, I am proud to say, has accomplished quite a bit.
She is trying very hard to be respectful of all my other people. The window cleaner, cleaning lady, cook, and myself (the all-purpose, in general, responsible adult) have all pretty much accomplished the necessesities of the week. Scrapbook girl is taking great care to not become the "I AM READING THIS BOOK" girl - she is way out of control!
And so today I applaud scrapbook girl, putting in writing her accomplishments. She is happy and sad about this knowing that news of the project is spreading throughout the land. Happy for the accolades. Sad for knowing that such knowledge also brings accountability.
She journeys onward.
simple faith
It was mid-morning on a recent Friday. My husband was at work and my boys gone until late afternoon. I finished the daily "thing to be done" and suddenly paused - I was, for all intents and purposes, caught up.
It was an odd sensation for it rarely happens. I was not quite sure my next step for the day. . .
Then she arrived. My project manager called us into a meeting. Most of my people arrived expectantly, although there are always the few who seem to come just for the sheer joy of dispensing guilt.
We all agreed the cleaning lady deserved the day off. Although there were, as always, some deep cleaning projects that needed attention, she had been so consistent during the week that things looked great. The deluge of rain falling outside pretty much left outdoor projects for another day. The baker half-heartedly offered for a day of baking goodies. The fitness trainer cleared her throat in the background - she is SO sassy!
The project manager decided it was time for a walk through. Expectations were high as we began. She quietly moved from room to room, stopping in my bedroom. As she surveyed the room her eyes stopped in the corner. An audible gasp was heard - surely she would not allow that! But allow it she did. She walked to the corner, picked up the large cardboard box and walked to the front room. Scrapbook girl had been given the nod.
My people are leary of scrapbook girl. Her record is far from shiny. In fact, the cardboard box has stood as a testament of her shortcomings for a couple of years.
It was probably the summer of 2005 when the real saga began. My boys had taken a trip with Grandparents and a cousin - a really cool trip that had allowed no parents. . .even though we asked. . .and offered to pay our way. . . . . But I digress.
The trip was in the summer of 2004. Of course it was the summer of the next year before scrapbook girl had all the pictures developed and supplies gathered to begin working. She suffers from delusional tendencies (another reason we are so leary of her) because she was certain the boys would want to help her with the project. Even though they protested greatly, she continued to believe. She spread the entire project out on the dining table. She tried to draw them in with questions - they did not budge. She began working on ideas, sharing them with the boys who continued to not be interested. And in one last moment of complete delusionality, she decided to leave the project out. Afterall, in her idealistic world, they couldn't resist for the entire summer! (Once again, do you see why we are so leary of her?)
But the boys, being boys, did resist the entire summer. And for the entire summer the project lay spread out on the dining table. School eventually began and the cleaning lady began her usual "getting the place back in shape" routine. With a heavy sigh and a roll of the eyes at scrapbook girl, she gathered up every last piece of the project and dumped it in a large cardboard box. The very cardboard box the project manager had just brought back to the dining table.
Scrapbook girl was determined to redeem herself in the eyes of my people. Over the last several months she had been buying more paper and supplies that she was sure would inspire her even more if the project was ever allowed out again. (We try to control her, but perhaps it is becoming obvious to you that is quite difficult.) She set to work immediately and, I am proud to say, has accomplished quite a bit.
She is trying very hard to be respectful of all my other people. The window cleaner, cleaning lady, cook, and myself (the all-purpose, in general, responsible adult) have all pretty much accomplished the necessesities of the week. Scrapbook girl is taking great care to not become the "I AM READING THIS BOOK" girl - she is way out of control!
And so today I applaud scrapbook girl, putting in writing her accomplishments. She is happy and sad about this knowing that news of the project is spreading throughout the land. Happy for the accolades. Sad for knowing that such knowledge also brings accountability.
She journeys onward.
simple faith
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
The Seamstress
My seamstress showed up yesterday. She didn't really have a choice. My project planner and organizer teamed up against her last week. They were determined to get some of the stacks off the bedroom floor.
Their method is vicious - they move things to obvious places and it forces everyone into action. Bags to be delivered to the thrift store and bags to go to the resale shop were set by the door - you basically had to walk around them to get out of the house. And on Friday they moved the mending stack and the sewing project to the kitchen. They even had the nerve to get out the sewing machine and all the goodies needed for projects!
I was able to manuever around them for the weekend, but on Monday morning my seamstress showed up. She managed to get the mending done before lunch. After lunch the real work began.
The project should be simple - just some valances for a couple of bedroom windows. She set up the machine, got out the fabric, and searched for the paper with all the measurements written on it. One look at the paper reminded her why she had been avoiding this project. There was no pattern to follow, only her own ideas and lots of numbers resembling a math word problem. She hates math word problems!!
Another issue came to mind - she was going this project alone. No Mom to help. No Q to help. Not even Real Soprano was there to double check the figures and give assurance that all would be well. There was a huge possibility of failure and she was hesitant to begin.
The life coach stepped in and gave her the "what's the worse thing that could happen?" speech. After recalculating, measuring , and praying the first cutting began.
As I said, the project should be simple. Well, except for the fact that the valances needed lined. That part of the project provided challenges for the seamstress.
Of course, she began with the valance that had almost 6 yards of fabric - we would hate to begin with the smaller one that would be much easier to fix if anything went wrong. And go wrong, it did.
My youngest son asked her how many times she was going to say "crap" while he was helping her at a critical point in the project. I was proud of her when she muttered "sorry". Sometimes my seamstress is the kind of girl that would reply, "As many times as I want to, buddy!"
After the problem was discovered and solved, in no short amount of time, it was quite literally time for bed.
My seamstress showed up again today - she had to finish the project.
simple faith
My seamstress showed up yesterday. She didn't really have a choice. My project planner and organizer teamed up against her last week. They were determined to get some of the stacks off the bedroom floor.
Their method is vicious - they move things to obvious places and it forces everyone into action. Bags to be delivered to the thrift store and bags to go to the resale shop were set by the door - you basically had to walk around them to get out of the house. And on Friday they moved the mending stack and the sewing project to the kitchen. They even had the nerve to get out the sewing machine and all the goodies needed for projects!
I was able to manuever around them for the weekend, but on Monday morning my seamstress showed up. She managed to get the mending done before lunch. After lunch the real work began.
The project should be simple - just some valances for a couple of bedroom windows. She set up the machine, got out the fabric, and searched for the paper with all the measurements written on it. One look at the paper reminded her why she had been avoiding this project. There was no pattern to follow, only her own ideas and lots of numbers resembling a math word problem. She hates math word problems!!
Another issue came to mind - she was going this project alone. No Mom to help. No Q to help. Not even Real Soprano was there to double check the figures and give assurance that all would be well. There was a huge possibility of failure and she was hesitant to begin.
The life coach stepped in and gave her the "what's the worse thing that could happen?" speech. After recalculating, measuring , and praying the first cutting began.
As I said, the project should be simple. Well, except for the fact that the valances needed lined. That part of the project provided challenges for the seamstress.
Of course, she began with the valance that had almost 6 yards of fabric - we would hate to begin with the smaller one that would be much easier to fix if anything went wrong. And go wrong, it did.
My youngest son asked her how many times she was going to say "crap" while he was helping her at a critical point in the project. I was proud of her when she muttered "sorry". Sometimes my seamstress is the kind of girl that would reply, "As many times as I want to, buddy!"
After the problem was discovered and solved, in no short amount of time, it was quite literally time for bed.
My seamstress showed up again today - she had to finish the project.
simple faith
Labels: My People
Friday, February 09, 2007
Life
I was in a meeting with my project manager. It is the end of week six of the year and I am behind schedule.
I was trying to persuade her that we had been overly ambitious with our schedule. Perhaps it would be good to rethink it and come up with a more realistic looking timeline.
My life coach decides to pop in to the meeting. She has been making her prescence known a lot the last few days. She is a good life coach. Generally encouraging, but often very direct and at times a bit on the sassy side.
She begins to express concern about how I choose to spend my time. Insinuating that perhaps I am not using it as wisely as possible.
Often times her directness and accuracy do not sit well with me. I tell her she is getting a bit "too big for her britches".
She retaliates with "the pot calling the kettle black".
Obviously she has been visiting with my personal trainer. . .
simple faith
I was in a meeting with my project manager. It is the end of week six of the year and I am behind schedule.
I was trying to persuade her that we had been overly ambitious with our schedule. Perhaps it would be good to rethink it and come up with a more realistic looking timeline.
My life coach decides to pop in to the meeting. She has been making her prescence known a lot the last few days. She is a good life coach. Generally encouraging, but often very direct and at times a bit on the sassy side.
She begins to express concern about how I choose to spend my time. Insinuating that perhaps I am not using it as wisely as possible.
Often times her directness and accuracy do not sit well with me. I tell her she is getting a bit "too big for her britches".
She retaliates with "the pot calling the kettle black".
Obviously she has been visiting with my personal trainer. . .
simple faith
Labels: My People
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Good Help - it IS hard to find
My housekeeper finally showed up yesterday. It's been a few weeks since she has done any serious dusting or vacuuming. Don't get me wrong, she is very faithful at showing up on Mondays to launder the bedding and at some point during the week to clean the bathrooms, but sometimes she is a coin toss on the other chores. She even mopped the kitchen floor - otherwise known as an exercise in futility.
I really wish my seamstress had showed up last month. I have some projects taking up space in my bedroom that are in need of her attention!
simple faith
My housekeeper finally showed up yesterday. It's been a few weeks since she has done any serious dusting or vacuuming. Don't get me wrong, she is very faithful at showing up on Mondays to launder the bedding and at some point during the week to clean the bathrooms, but sometimes she is a coin toss on the other chores. She even mopped the kitchen floor - otherwise known as an exercise in futility.
I really wish my seamstress had showed up last month. I have some projects taking up space in my bedroom that are in need of her attention!
simple faith
Labels: My People
