We Did NOT Keep the Sabbath

Not EVEN me

Today was a major house cleaning day, whereupon we vacuumed, mopped, dusted, Windexed ALL the mirrors (and the chrome and glass furniture), cleaned the sinks and showers, did laundry, and otherwise cleaned everythang that was in need o' cleaning.  In short: everythang except change the sheets.  About which... we hit the wall when it came time to do that.  We also figgered that particular chore can wait for another day, mainly coz there's no one about to appreciate or confer the bennies of clean sheets upon me.

But we're done now and are enjoying the fruits o' our labors and a cold Turbodog or two.  Why izzit that Happy Hour seems better when the house is spotless?

Here's a word to the wise:  do NOT go looking for images of male maids with "safe search" off.  Just sayin'.

Linkage & A Minor Bitch, Piss, and Moan (Or Two)

First... Blog-Bud Jim, aka Suldog, puts the Christmas ditty he penned to music.  And the resulting one-man-band performance is awesome.  We (and not the Royal We, I mean YOU, too) need to convince him to YouTube the song.  So comment appropriately.

Second:  Lex takes us flying in the Kfir, here and here.  Is there a BETTER post-military retirement gig than flying fighters as a civilian?  I think not.

―:☺:―

Department o' Miscellaneous Bitches & Complaints:   (1)  Remember a couple o' few days ago when I said we had a warm-up on the way?  Well, it's yet to arrive.  Yeah, it IS warmer, which is to say almost 50 degrees, but it's also windy, rainy, and blustery, accompanied by Mrs. Hippy levels of humidity.  There won't be an outdoor Happy Hour today, but we remain optimistic.  Mebbe tomorrow.

Well, mebbe not.  Dang.

(2)  I've been living in El Casa Inmóvil de Pennington for two and a half months now and I've yet to turn the water on in the guest bathroom's tub.  Let me clear: said tub has NEVER been wet.  Not once.  So, that said, why is the danged thing dirty?  I've been looking in that tub for a couple o' days now in the hopes it will somehow clean itself, or that perhaps the Cleaning Fairy will show up and do the obnoxious deed for me.  I haven't had ANY success in either case, so it looks like we'll have to add another chore to the ever-growing list.  A maid... A Man Needs A Maid. 

Plus Ça Change, La Deuxième Partie

We got off the dime and ran our errands today, thanks in no small part to the Virtual Nagging™ kindly provided by Occasional Readers Lou and Kris and even though we slept in until about the same hour as yesterday, which is to say well on the south side of the ten o'clock hour.  But the errands couldn't really be put off another day, for the food supply was perilously low and we needed to fill a prescription out at the Cannon Airplane Patch pharmacy.  So, we went.  Mission Accomplished, and all that.

We also stopped by the Class VI store and re-stocked the beer supply even though said supply was good enough to last another three or four days, at least.  The seasonal winter brews have hit the market and we picked up a couple o' sixers, to wit: Sammy Adams Winter lager and Blue Moon's Winter seasonal offering... Winter Abbey Ale.  I expected the beer snobs at BA to hate on the Winter Abbey Ale (coz it's from Coors, perish the thought), and some did.  But the overall consensus opinion is a C+, which ain't all THAT bad.  And the beer geeks rate the Sammy Adams a solid "B," so that's good news; that and the fact we've had pleasant experiences with this beer in the past.  That said, the beer was too warm for today's Happy Hour but we're looking forward to sampling one of each tomorrow afternoon.  Everyone needs a goal in life...

Plus Ça Change...

... plus c'est la même chose (link for the non-Francophones).  I made lotsa plans before going to bed last night or... more accurately... early this morning.  I even set my alarm phone for 0830 hrs to ensure I rolled out in sufficient time to get an early start to The Big(ger) City™ and then to Cannon Airplane Patch for to run the Usual, Customary, and Reasonable errands.  So... the alarm goes off at the appointed time and I did the entirely predictable thang: shut it off and rolled over for two more hours of beauty sleep, which always fails in its intended purpose.  Which is to say I'm not getting any more beautiful but I am most certainly well-rested.

So here we sit with one more cup o' morning coffee left to drink and the prospect of completing our errands vanishing into the ether.  I suppose there's always tomorrow and this seems to be the way my life of sloth and indolence works.  It takes me a day to think of what must be done, another day to plan for it, a day to put it off, and yet another day before I actually get around to the doing.  Or mebbe two.

I've said this before and I'll say it again: I'm in dire need of some serious nagging.  I don't miss that sorta "incentive" 95% of the time but when I need it, I REALLY need it.  Or mebbe I just need to get that maid I've been on about.

Domesticity, Part Deux

We put on our virtual apron today and did what must be done, domestic-wise.  Dusted (yet AGAIN!).  Unloaded the dishwasher (no, I'm not living out of the thing as I said I might).  Vacuumed.  Did a load of laundry.  And changed the sheets...

About which, this.  Every married couple develops lil shorthand expressions and "interesting" ways to communicate, be it good thangs or bad thangs.  One of the Good Thangs back in Former Happy Days was when The Second Mrs. Pennington would look at me and simply announce "clean sheets," followed by an expression that looked a LOT like this:  , only much sweeter and less evil.  Well, there might have been some evil there but it all depended, and we won't go any further than that.  That particular announcement might could have come at any time, but was most often delivered as I hit the door after work or mebbe after dinner.   I knew EXACTLY what that meant; the only thang open to conjecture was the timing: now?  Or later?

These days "clean sheets" means that and only that: the sheets are clean.  And the small amount of work associated with making the bed and doin' the laundry, of course.  (sigh)

Domesticity

That would be us today... what with doin' three loads o' laundry before noon.  One consisted of a week's worth o' dirty clothes and two consisted of sheets and pillow cases which were ostensibly clean when I put 'em into long-term storage in El Casa Móvil de Pennington.  But that was eight years ago and rust dust never sleeps, so into the washing machine they went.

So... that's done and the results have been folded and put away.  I use the term "folded" VERY loosely when it comes to fitted sheets, which were more or less wadded up in a semi-methodical manner.  That's yet another skill I've failed to master in my lifetime: folding fitted sheets.  Not that it matters.

So, apropos o' linens... I noticed a couple o' things today, both o' which are related to Former Happy Days.  First:  all my linens are queen-sized; my new bed is full-size.  There's an inherent mismatch there that results in a less than tidy bed-making experience, but one that is well-concealed by blankets and the bedspread.  The fact I have overly large sheets hasn't affected my sleep in any way, shape or form... and I'm too damned cheap to go buy new linens.

Second:  SOME stains never come out in the wash, even if those stains happen to be well over 14 years old.  Yet SOME stains bring back happy memories... oh, yes, they most certainly DO.  I got a couple o' wry grins on my face while folding those fitted sheets this morning... 

Possibly related:  I suppose one of the benefits of queen-sized beds and bedding is neither of you has to sleep in the wet spot, provided said wet spot is dead center in the middle of the bed.  And that's exactly where those grin-inducing stains were, strangely enough.  I don't know if that strategic positioning was her or me, or if it was planned or accidental... but it certainly looked planned.  We're always thinkin', yanno?

Busy Busy Busy

It's just noon and we've already been oot and aboot... and accomplished quite a bit while we were at it, too.  I established water and electric accounts for the new place, got an installation date for my fiber connection from Yucca Telecom, and ran by the post office to pick up change of address cards.  Let me say this about that...

Get Off My Lawn!

Why?  Those handy, dandy change of address cards don't exist any longer.  USPS is SO 21st century now, in that you have to go to USPS.com and file your change of address there.  I'll bet THAT works really well... but I must admit I haven't tried it yet.  Still and even, this IS the post office we're talking about, innit?  You'd think those post cards worked well enough... but NO.  To say I'm apprehensive is understating the case.

I'll be without inner-nets for about ten days or so after I move, too.  Yucca gave me an installation appointment of 9/26 and my projected move date is on or about 9/15.  I don't really expect to move on the 15th, having already been advised by the property management company that that particular date will prolly slip.  But I'd BETTER be moved by the 26th, nu?

So.  We also went to Wally-World and bought food (and more beer), seein' as how the commissary was closed for Labor Day when I was out at the base yesterday.  Now I'm debating whether to kick off Happy Hour early or take a nap.  Decisions, decisions...

Thinking About Options

I've been givin' some thought lately to changin' my lifestyle or, more specifically, to changin' my residence.  There's a lot to like about livin' in El Casa Móvil de Pennington... it's all mine to begin with (which makes the living rather inexpensive), and there's the undeniable cachet of livin' with all the other Swells here in Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park.  Still and even there ARE times when I think more space would be nice, a dishwasher would be nice, a washer and dryer of my own would be nice, and a normal-sized fridge and freezer would be nice.  And closets, plural.  All the stuff I had back in Former Happy Days, the stuff I gave up to go mobile, in other words.

So we received this in Friday's mail:

I seriously entertained goin' over to that event today but decided against it when I found out the place is a 96-unit assisted-living center... not to mention the fact it looks like your standard, run-o'-the-mill apartment building.  Nope... ain't gonna do that.  I want sumthin' more like a condo and I know those things exist.  So, it's back to the drawing board for more research.  I'm not in any hurry.

OTOH, I'm still thinkin' about gettin' a maid, which is the sort of "assisted living" I'm really in need of.  I'm lookin' for a nice, fine, upstanding mature woman who wouldn't mind doin' a lil light cleaning and cooking for a gentleman, among other things.  Someone of the "upstairs maid" persuasion, kinda like this:

Yeah... me and Neil:

I was thinking that maybe I'd get a maid
Find a place nearby for her to stay.
Just someone to keep my house clean,
Fix my meals and go away.

A maid. A man needs a maid.
A maid.

It's hard to make that change
When life and love turns strange.
And old.

Yup: "A man needs a maid..."