Molly Goatwax

Stew, interrupted

Today I went to Miss Janet's and when she answered the door, said; "It's the Beer Fairy!". She let me in and I gave her a set of custom tire valve stem caps for her SAAB. She gave me a flying pig and a crate of two chocolate trouts and she was making a very intriguing Southern New Mexican dish, a stew of pork and hominy and chilies. It smelled so good. I was all fired up to make something like hoppin john in envy so I headed to the grocery store on the way home. After I selected a small pork loin to dice and a can of this and that, an onion....weaving along and back to aisles visited before...the Muzac on the public address system was over ridden by an immediate order to pick up our personal belongings and evacuate. We were directed to the far end of the parking lot once outside, but everyone just got into their cars and left. A bomb threat at the Harford Road Safeway. I'll cook something like hoppin john tomorrow.

Duh

I discovered, after a grueling day at the office carried into overtime, that I have today off. (There was no e-mail and it was not listed with the company holidays on the monitor in the hall way.) But hubby is taking me there to fetch my handbag, which I forgot.

Minutia

Trader's license, food permit, trade name registration, worker's comp, tax registration....and socks, pants, anti-freeze, batteries...I didn't even get to the grocery store. I had the day off, but not really. It got eaten up by errands. All with the smudgy faced 8 year old in tow. And her face got smudgier over the course of the day, by magic. I wonder what the state office workers thought of her Atomic Books tee shirt...and as she sat in the back seat while we drove Miss Julie home, she sang the Ramones; "we beat the brat with a baseball bat, oh yeah!"

Tsunami

Photo by Arko Datta-Reuters

It's hard to imagine the scope of the disaster on the other side of the world, and how sudden.This image of a man in India clutching the hand of his dead 8 year old son was on the front page of the Washington Post this morning, and it made my hurty hands all insignificant in his weeping.

M'hands

If I could impart any lasting advice to the coming generation, it would be to shake my crippled fist and exhort: "You young people today! Take care of your hands! Wear gloves in the cold and do not punch brick walls!" I mean, not that I ever punched any brick walls, but every minor injury and cold snap my hands have sustained are having their collective impact on their mobility. My next bit of advice would be to make sure you have kids, so that one could rip open the difficult bag of kitty litter at changing time.

No one to blame but myself

Yesterday I mangled both hands, but not with the Dremel I am learning to use. (I never had one before.) No, I was winding up my light up bouncing dreydl when the spring winder sprung before leaving my right hand. My fingers were in the way and took quite an impact. They look kinda blue now. Then I was trimming some fat from a cold roast with the fancy new serrated knife that got Mr. Beetz and nearly removed my left thumb. I probably should have gone in for stitches but managed to stop the bleeding with cold water and pressure before I cleaned it up, applied anti-bacterial cream and bandaged it up good and tight. Oh, what a challenge it was to grip the icy steering wheel with them this morning!

Grind it up

Oh, it's cold outside! But it's warm in the house, there's black coffee and marzipan and I am profoundly grateful. The cooking marathon is over, every morsel eaten (despite the fact that the pipe under the sink detached and the microwave conked out, I made a fabulous dinner) and we are winding up the cleaning. I need some safety goggles. One of those wonderful people we fed and clad either in cashmere or Lamb O God shirts left me a Dremel tool yesterday. . .

Inch by inch

Today we had a "dry" settlement ( the wire from our escrow didn't arrive) on the property, fixtures and business and completed the license transfer application. I told the security guard I was buying Hubby a tavern for Christmas and she was shocked and delighted for him. Monday the last of the seller's liens should be cleared up. Knock on wood, light a candle or spare me a wish and a prayer. Then we must wait for my criminal background check to clear, alert the insurance company and...oh yeah. Utilities. Inventory. Some signs. I'm probably forgetting something, I mean, besides the shelves and spandrels...where's my measuring tape?

Not Currier and Ives

Now I do have an attitude problem. Today the leak in the roof kept tap, tap tapping into the light fixture above my cubicle. Then my supervisor came in and turned on the 9 hour Carpenters' Christmas Marathon. At 15 minutes before quitting time I was pulled into a dark office and Talked To by the scary lady with the bitten nails and the antacids. It seems that I am not fitting in. I have tried my best, dressed in twin sets, smiled at everyone, not made sarcastic remarks, (and they are a long way from firing me or laying me off) but ultimately...I'm feeling, it won't work out. . . at least I can now be free of the Muzak. For now. Plug in the twinkling lights and the light-up village and please, pop me a can of Foster's.

Wake me next week

It's not an attitude problem so much as just sheer exhaustion. Oh wait...here comes the rain.