Feivel Goes West

Fourth of July we decided to be patriotic and grill like all the other houses in our neighborhood were doing. Mike went outside to preheat the grill as I was prepping everything, when he comes back inside to tell me:

mike: Well, I cannot light the grill right now because, and this is something I never thought I would say. Actually, just guess, do you have any idea?
me: Is something wrong with the grill? I mean, other than that I can't think of anything else.
mike: No, the grill's fine. I cannot light it because --pause for dramatic effect-- I just saw a mouse run in there.

--I stare at him to make sure he's not just making shit up. Then I realize that's way too oddly specific to be made up, and I don't think he's that good of an on the spot story teller so if he didn't want to grill he would just say so. So there really is a mouse in my his grill. Ewww.--

me: Ewww! You're right though that is something I never would have eve imagined either. Now what do we do?

I call upon my trusty sidekick (to the internets!) and turns out that mice in grills are not super uncommon because it's a dry place they can nest. I want to start cooking, but neither one of us is willing to just turn on the flames and risk essence of mouse. And we want to disinfect the hell out that thing and all it's parts too before either one of us feels comfortable putting any sort of food on there. So Mike is taking the pieces out and I'm just about to pour the vinegar/water/soap mixture (an internets concoction) all over the grill when the mouse runs out and across the concrete slab the builder thought was an acceptable thing to call a a patio* and disappears into the grass.

Startled, I scream bloody murder. Due in part because OMG I have just seen a MOUSE run out of my grill!!! And also omg I just saw a mouse run out of my his grill across my patio over there and I'm not wearing shoes.**

So now Mike is on his own to take care of all the man things outside, clean and disinfect the grill, and laugh at his wife who flew into the kitchen and is currently jumping and flapping around in wayward circles still freaking the fck out. Needless to say, I made dinner in the over that night. And wore my rain boots that go up to my knees the next time I went outside.  

*it's not
**What can I say, I grew up in Kentucky.***
***Nope. No brothers.****
****EWWWW!!!!!

Young Pup

One of my coworkers is very young. Nineteen young. And here is proof of this:

Laura: Have you been to that music shop down the street?
me: No, I haven't. But I'm not really a music buyer in general though.
Laura: they have other stuff there too, a lot of movies. And they have something called...I think it's vee-nall?
me: Vee-nal? --beat-- Wait. Do mean vinyl?
Laura: yeah! those big black disc right?
me: oh. my. god. you are so young you didn't know hot to pronounce vinyl.

And with that, I turn 31. Yep.
Happy birthday to me!!

Saying Goodbye

For my best friend
From the Muppets Take Manhattan. 

Saying goodbye, going away

Seems like goodbye's such a hard thing to say.

Touching a hand paw, wondering why

It's time for saying goodbye

Saying goodbye, why is it sad?

Makes us remember the good times we've had

Much more to say, foolish to try

 It's time for saying goodbye

Don't want to leave, but we both know

Sometimes it's better to go

Somehow I know we'll meet again

Not sure quite where, and I don't know just when

You're in my heart, so until then

Wanna smile, 

Wanna cry

Saying goodbye

La la la, la la la la la

It's time for saying goodbye

Goodbye my dearest, dearest Bailey. Thank you for being my best friend the past 6 years. Thank you for your unconditional love, fierce loyalty and unwavering support. I'll never forget you and I will always miss you. I know you'll love and take care of your new family as much as you did me.  

I love you, forever. Goodbye my Bailey. Goodbye.

I love you too Momma. I love you too.

Guess Who

My husband and I have names picked out for our future children. Because, well, of course we do. And while we know this is very much putting the cart before the horse, it's still fun to toss out names and speculate every now and again. After all, who knows what names we'll like when the time comes. And for all we know, we'll have a name picked out, meet the little one and they just won't be that name.

But anyway, one of the current trends in baby naming is a name from 2 generations back, so grandma and grandpa's names. And since we like the trendy* names, we have quite the selection from our grandparents: Emil, Otho, and Edna. But if none of those work, I can always look on the family tree, my grandmother's siblings were: Ray, Gladys, Ola, Elbe, Helen and Elaine.

But I do like the idea of naming my family after family. So while Edna Ola may not be the right combination for Sharktopus's legal name, the name Amy is on my list of possibilities. Mike's pretty neutral on the name, he's not all about it, but he's not against it either. It's just a maybe, one day, something to consider possibility. Which is fine, because really, who knows? But at least he knows who the name belongs to and that it isn't out of left field.

Some other people, not so much. Because when I tossed out the family name Amy to my ex his reaction was "who's Amy?"

Yep. He didn't remember my sister's name even when we were engaged. Then again, my family was always an afterthought or a figment of my imagination to him, so not remembering my sister's name was pretty par for the course.  Dodged a bullet there.

*Both the names we like are in the top 10. We're so trendy.

40,000 Questions

Our house is less than 3 years old and it has no character. Which I guess if I hadn't sold my soul to design school and gone through hell I wouldn't really even know that, let alone care. But I did go to interior design school. So I do care that my house has no character.

So I have ideas. (Mainly fueled by pintrest. I need to stop looking at pintrest.) Nothing huge or a complete renovations. Just little things to make the house a little less...half-assed "designed" and a little more I actually live here.  Like putting hardware on the kitchen cabinets, framing the bathroom mirrors for a more done look, covering the concrete slab "patio," coat hooks were we have no coat closet, and hanging a lamp in a spot that desperately needs it. Stuff that takes some, but not a whole lot of planning, but is totally DIY.  

Except. Not everyone is a diy kind of person. So for every idea that I have, there are 40,000 questions accompanied by 40,000 hesitations. So diy becomes BFD to the point that it's just not worth it to me anymore. So all those ideas, even the little ones that flit by and make me happy at the possibility, become this disappointment the moment they become impossible tasks.  If I could just stop having ideas in the first place, I could just stop being so disheartened by them not happening. I wouldn't be reduced to tears over something as innocuous as plugging in a lamp. And I wouldn't be stuck with a pretty lamp shade I'll never get to use as a reminder either. 

But at least the whole house is painted now. Even though I get majorly annoyed over picking paint colors in general and picking a color is a bfd and I gave a rat's ass about the timeline, at least my characterless house has color. It's not really a consolation prize, but I'll try to take it as a win. 

Sometimes I really hate that I went to design school.

Apron Time

My in-laws were visiting over the last few days, and I had the time so I prepared a few meals while they were here so as not to have to eat out 4 days in a row. I'm by no means a chef, but I can and like to cook and I have a lot of cookbooks. And over time I've grasped more and more on how things come together and my skills and cooking have improved to the point that the task of cooking for someone (or a group) doesn't seem as daunting as it once was. (Thanksgiving circa 2011).

As soon as I moved to Charlotte the kitchen became mine. My husband is good sport and will at least try everything too. (I've only made 2 completely inedible things so far: lemon kale and salt loaf) He's also a fairly smart man and compliments my cooking, enough that I actually believe he really does like my cooking.

But my favorite thing he's ever said about my cooking was said shortly after I moved in. He was coming back downstairs after changing out of his work clothes, just as I was about to start making dinner so I was putting on my apron. He sees me to that and excitedly says "it's apron time!" Apparently good things happen when it's apron time. :)