Word of the Day: And
Dad's been gone a year today. It doesn't make the day any sadder than yesterday or the day before (although today I'm more reflective), but I can't believe how fast a year moves by.
So, it's spring, and the cats are shedding. And they're seasonally energized, which means that every five minutes there's a tussle. And every time there's a tussle, I find a sprig or two of long, fluffy fur on the carpet or the bed or the couch. I pick them up and throw them in the trash, but once in a while I pause for a moment and try to think what amusing thing I could do with a big ol' furball if I collected them for a while. I could toss together an effigy to take to Burning Man or glue up a nice wall decoration ("your mother likes anything you make"), or perhaps I could stuff a pillow or take it to Linda to weave- then I could crochet a cat scarf and be the bane of everyone with allergies.
Today we cleaned the U.V. with wands that spin and spray citric acid, and by 'we' I mean Travis and Jeff. Bud smoked and picked my brain about how to get rid of his stalker. (Apparently she beat him with her purse one night last week, furious when she saw him leaving Kate's and he hadn't spoken to her the entire evening. Unfortunately I wasn't able to give him any advice; I may be a woman, but I'm not nuts.) And I daydreamed while minding the extension cord (don't let it drop in the water!) and acid tank (don't let it pump dry!) and drain valves (are you sure you closed them both all the way?). This morning I wore a brown and gold knit Sanuk Padres beanie (because I woke up to an inch of snow the consistency of lead-and-bentonite modeling clay and had to rent a backhoe to clean off the car) and when I walked in the break room Bud said, "that's a nice lid." Then he told me to go turn the chlorine down.
I should point out that Travis and Jeff do most of the physical labor at the plant not because a) I am incompetent and lazy, b) they are chauvinist pigs, or c) I am not strong or smart enough, but because most of it requires two people maximum and I am the only one who won't have a seizure if made to stand helpfully by and be patient. This means plenty of daydreaming time for me while I'm holding the ladder or lighting the fuse or cleaning up the mess, and believe me, I have plenty with which to fill it up.
So, it's spring, and the cats are shedding. And they're seasonally energized, which means that every five minutes there's a tussle. And every time there's a tussle, I find a sprig or two of long, fluffy fur on the carpet or the bed or the couch. I pick them up and throw them in the trash, but once in a while I pause for a moment and try to think what amusing thing I could do with a big ol' furball if I collected them for a while. I could toss together an effigy to take to Burning Man or glue up a nice wall decoration ("your mother likes anything you make"), or perhaps I could stuff a pillow or take it to Linda to weave- then I could crochet a cat scarf and be the bane of everyone with allergies.
Today we cleaned the U.V. with wands that spin and spray citric acid, and by 'we' I mean Travis and Jeff. Bud smoked and picked my brain about how to get rid of his stalker. (Apparently she beat him with her purse one night last week, furious when she saw him leaving Kate's and he hadn't spoken to her the entire evening. Unfortunately I wasn't able to give him any advice; I may be a woman, but I'm not nuts.) And I daydreamed while minding the extension cord (don't let it drop in the water!) and acid tank (don't let it pump dry!) and drain valves (are you sure you closed them both all the way?). This morning I wore a brown and gold knit Sanuk Padres beanie (because I woke up to an inch of snow the consistency of lead-and-bentonite modeling clay and had to rent a backhoe to clean off the car) and when I walked in the break room Bud said, "that's a nice lid." Then he told me to go turn the chlorine down.
I should point out that Travis and Jeff do most of the physical labor at the plant not because a) I am incompetent and lazy, b) they are chauvinist pigs, or c) I am not strong or smart enough, but because most of it requires two people maximum and I am the only one who won't have a seizure if made to stand helpfully by and be patient. This means plenty of daydreaming time for me while I'm holding the ladder or lighting the fuse or cleaning up the mess, and believe me, I have plenty with which to fill it up.
posted by A at
12:40 PM
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