New Years Day 2012

Can you believe 2011 is done and over with already? It's crazy how fast that went. I think I did stuff, I really don't remember all that much right now though. On the bright side, I think I've started out the year on a good note. My "Ta-Da!" list has a few things on it today, not the least of which is finally painting my bedroom.

I painted the ceiling in our bedroom almost a year ago. For at least ten months now we've had a very pretty ceiling next to walls that have an inch of ceiling paint along the top edge (I don't tape off anything) as well as approximately fifteen white patches of various size where I repaired holes from the previous owners. That's in addition to the very large patch where Mister C did some sort of wiring work around the same time as I originally painted the ceiling. That one was about two feet by three feet and situated directly across from the foot of our bed. So I could see it every morning as soon as I got out of bed. I think it will be nice to not wake up to that tomorrow. There wasn't a whole lot else going on today as the painting took up a good five hours of my day, not including the set up and clean up time.

Now, since I haven't been on here in a few days I never updated you on the great mallet incident of late 2011. Let me weave you a tale, a tale of pain and horror that will leave you speechless, unlike I was.

So on Friday Mister C and I were putting the chicken wire around our raised gardens. We didn't need to do this to keep the chickens out, although it will make that easier. No, we had to do that because our idiotic dog likes to dig. And bite strawberry plants off at the base. What dog does that? Just bites a strawberry plant off and eats it? That's not even normal. But anyway, in order to preserve the plants that survived her latest attack, we went ahead and put the wire around the gardens. As part of the project, we also wanted to put chicken wire around our back garden where the raspberry, blackberry and blueberry plants are. That is keep the chickens out because they keep going after my blueberry plants. I'm sure that as soon as the raspberry and blackberries start growing, they'll be after them too.

Mister C bought a bunch of wooden stakes to hold the chicken wire in the back garden. They'll also come in handy for brain pokes via the eye (yuck!) when the zombie apocalypse starts. But I digress. Where was I? Ah yes, wooden stakes, which needed to be put in the ground. Mister C put the first three stakes in using a standard hammer to pound them into our hard, calichi soil. Then he got distracted by having to make a run back to Home Depot for something or another and left the work to me.

Now, I know myself and I know that grace is not my middle name. Neither is accuracy. So I know that there is no way I'm going to attempt using a standard hammer to hit a one by one inch square of wood. Especially not repeatedly. So I came up with the great idea to use a rubber mallet in place of the hammer that Mister C had used. After all, I figured that with a larger hitting implement I would certainly stand a better chance of hitting the target. Additionally, if I did happen to miss the stake and hit myself, rubber has to hurt less than metal.

So with my completely logical choice of tool in hand, I head out to start the wooden stake project. And it goes really well. I was absolutely correct in my assessment of how the mallet would work and I have no problem getting the first nine stakes put in. At least as far as accuracy. Each stake takes between fifteen and twenty hits to get it into the ground to the right depth and it's definitely tiring to be swinging the mallet over and over again. With only two stakes left to install I was feeling pretty good about my getting done before Mister C got home from his shopping excursion. And that is when disaster struck.

I had hit the next to the last stake enough times that it was standing unaided, although I was still holding it for each hit to prevent any problems. I could feel that my arm was getting tired but I valiantly swung the mallet in a large arc towards the not so large target. Only I didn't hit the target. To be honest, I didn't even touch the target. No, I swung that mallet around with all my strength, directly onto the back of my left hand. And since I was hanging on to the stake with my left hand, it didn't even move when the mallet hit it. It just took the full brunt force of that swinging mallet and stopped it cold. The pain was instantaneous and intense. As was my language.

Once the air cleared and I could actually looked at my hand, I was amazed at how quickly a lump was forming. Within about thirty seconds, I had a grape sized lump growing up out of my hand and it was only getting bigger. To make it worse, the pain was radiating from the point of impact (which was about an inch directly below the knuckle of my pointer finger) up into my finger as well as into my thumb. Over the next thirty minutes or so the swelling got less grape-like and more spread out until it covered about half of the back of my hand. I decided at that point that I was done working for the day.

Today, two full days later, the swelling is down but still covering a full third of my hand. There's still a very hard lump the size of a grape at the point of impact, and the whole thing has a blueish tinge to it. The bruising goes above the knuckle as well. And it still hurts if I touch it. Also, note to self...hard rubber being swung at full speed hurts like hell. I'm almost sure it doesn't hurt any less than the metal hammer would have. As far as I can tell the difference was that the mallet spread the pain over a larger area.

So, overall, a tough end to 2011 and a good start to 2012. Hopefully things will continue to improve from here.

Happy New Year's Day!

Finishing up the Backyard

So if you remember back a few posts you'll remember that I promised to take pictures of the big pile of dirt on my patio. Well, I've waited long enough that now I can just do the update for the (almost) grand finale of the backyard project. That "almost" is there strictly because we haven't actually put all of the plants in. We're still missing our vegetables. But anyway, pictures!

Here's the pile of garden soil on my patio. It's not as full as it was because the day I planted the berry bushes I took about seven wheelbarrows out of it for the berry gardens. Also, the smaller pile in the background is the stuff Mister C pulled out of the berry garden so he could redo the irrigation. Which is somewhat messed up due to over abundance of sprinkler heads. But that's a story for another day. But anyway, look, dirt.



Here are the raised garden beds that Mister C and I built with our own two hands. Ignore that they are not lined up correctly and look lopsided. We hadn't lined them up and leveled them at this point in the process. I was just taking pictures as we went along. As you can see we built three beds, each one is eight foot by four foot for a total of...I'm not doing math so assume a lot of room to plant.



And here's Mister C admiring his newly filled in raised garden beds with their (over abundant) sprinkler system. What a beautiful sight, a freshly filled garden bed, ready for planting. But hang on, it looks like something IS already in the garden...



Ah hell, guess who found the nice soft dirt in the raised garden?



Mister C was not impressed with the girls antics. The dirt was flying for a few minutes while they all dug down little holes in which to bath themselves and then settled in for a nap. Like we spent building the beds, putting together the sprinkler and hauling three yards of dirt over just so they could have a place to hang out in style.

Wait, we didn't build this for the girls enjoyment? I'm shocked!



More pictures eventually, as soon as I move the strawberries from my kitchen window out to the garden and put some actual vegetables out there. Currently? Still a chicken playground.

No new job yet

So I got my "Hey thanks for trying but we'd rather not" note from the company I did a phone interview with last Wednesday. It doesn't really surprise me. I suspect it might have been the long pause after one particular question that did me in. What question you ask?

Interviewer: What intrigued you about the position to be a claims representative?
Mirth: ...........?????

Call it my Jan Brewer moment if you will. I just couldn't wrap my mind around her using that particular word in that sentence. It's not that I didn't understand the meaning of the word or anything like that. It's just that there are very few reasons to use that word in a job interview, at least not in a question. It would be more appropriate to use the word when asking the interviewee to clarify something on their resume.

For example...

"Mirth, I see here that you used to work as a shoeless, bar tending, speed reader in a Texas brothel. That sounds intriguing, tell me more about that."

Honestly though, the question caught me totally off guard. I was prepared for a lot of questions, but throwing the word "intrigued" in relationship to a job as a phone representative is a bit unfair. Mister C hates when I refer to jobs like this as glorified phone sex, but I think it's fairly accurate.

So the answer to the question is really, nothing. There's nothing about your claims representative job that intrigued me. There's nothing intriguing about spending ten hours a day hooked up to a phone system handling customer complaints. I applied for this job because your company has great benefits and decent pay and I'm fairly sure that even my little pea brain could handle the job itself.

The most intriguing thing about this whole situation was trying to figure out what genius came up with the idea to use totally inappropriate words during the interview process in order to throw off the applicants. Intrigued indeed.

Catch up

I'm finally feeling a ton better after finishing up my antibiotics today. I still have the nagging cough that gets worse as night falls and keeps me up for several hours during the night. But I can breath now and I'm not being mistaken for Mister C when I answer the phone (Thanks, Mamoo!) The worst part is that while I went to my doctor last week, I didn't get medicine until I called back in on Saturday morning basically demanding something. I got the call back that she had called in the prescription after hours. A prescription for an antibiotic I'm allergic to. The ONLY thing I'm allergic to. Way to read a chart Dr. Bozo. By the time Mister C brought me home the medicine the doctor's office was closed and I was desperate. So I loaded up on Benadryl and took the medicine. The first day was really itchy and I had a red rash but it eventually cleared up and with continued antihistamine I made it through. Having said that, what the hell kind of doctor calls in a prescription for a medicine their patient is allergic to? It's like she was upset that I basically "made" her prescribe something and tried to punish me. Or she's really, really stupid.

Sunday night Mister C and I got to attend a holiday party slash charity fundraiser for a dog rescue that was hosted by one of my clients. We didn't stay long but it was nice to get be able to get dressed up and meet some new people. Santa was there as was a photographer. I'll post a picture as soon as it arrives.

I applied for a "real" job the other day. Mister C suggested I do so. I'm not really thrilled about doing that and I'm not giving up real estate unless I have to due to conflict of interest, but I'm giving the working world another shot. I thought I did my time but I guess I must have violated my parole or something because it looks like I might be going back in.

Today, I (finally) put together the gingerbread house I bought at the co-op two weeks ago. Master J watched me do the "build" and he did install the door. It has to cure for twenty four hours before we decorate. Master J and I are going down the cookie and candy aisles tomorrow so he can get the required supplies for decorating. I have some ideas but I'm going to let him do what he wants.

And finally...Mister C gave up on me painting the exterior of the house by myself since I've been sick for the past three weeks. I talked with the painter that lives down the street and he gave us a reasonable quote. Mister C agreed it would be worth it to go ahead and have it done. Only problem? We had to un-decorate our house this week. So there we were, at ten on Sunday night, up on a ladder removing the lights. It looked like we were recreating my favorite Dr. Seuss book/movie. But wait, it gets better. The painter power washed the house the next day. Yesterday, he came back and started caulking the house. And then it started raining. And it hasn't stopped. So now, I have no lights, there are white patches and lines all over my house and water is pooling up around the foundation where the earth was pulled away in preparation for painting. I can't win for losing on this one.

Annnndddd, no.

I didn't get the job that I wasn't sure I wanted. I must say that I'm sort of relieved. My mom asked Master J what he would think if I got a job and he said he would be sad because I wouldn't be able to spend as much time with him. He's never really known me to have a job. Even though I have worked in his lifetime, I always made it so I could drop him off and pick him up from school so it didn't really affect him. I also think that while Mister C would love for me to bring in the extra money, he would be sorely disappointed for me to actually have a job. I do a whole lot of things around here with and for him. Need someone to go for a walk and listen to you vent? I'm there. Pictures need hanging or drywall repaired from the last guy? I can do that. Need work done around the house that I can't do? I'm the one that makes contacts and schedules the people. Packages need to be mailed out? That's me. Lunch? I'm on it. Getting stuff organized, advertised and sold? Yup, me again. Picking out and purchasing his clothing so he doesn't have to? My job. Shopping for holidays and birthdays for his family? Guess who? I'm basically an underpaid personal assistant. But it works for us. So, for now, I'm not going to send out any more resumes or apply for any more jobs unless they really look interesting to me. But after re-reading what I just wrote, I might have to ask for a pay increase!

So about that interview

I showed up 40 minutes early. Because that's just the kind of gal I am. I was afraid of getting caught in traffic and not showing up on time. It's about five miles from my house. When I got there, there was a young man waiting for his interview. He had on a TON of cologne. I loooove me some cologne, but I want to be within two inches before I'm smelling it and I definitely was NOT within two inches of this gentleman. He seemed nice enough though. I signed in and saw that there were only supposed to be four interviewees and I was one of them. It didn't look like the first person had shown up since they hadn't signed in. The guy was next and he got called in about a minute after I arrived. About 10 minutes after he went in, an older woman came in. She was the next interviewee and she went in about five minutes after arriving. About five minutes after she went in, the school secretary came out and locked the doors and turned off most of the lights. Hmmmm, this doesn't look promising. Mostly I was worried that I would fall asleep sitting in the quiet semi-darkness by myself. I have to say though, it was very peaceful there. It was almost meditative. They finally called me in and for whatever reason, I was "on". Let me tell you, if they hire me it won't be because I'm such a talented all around gal. It'll be because I had them laughing their asses off. Cause I'm nothing if not entertaining. Just ask Mister C. I can't even tell you what I said because most of it is a blur, but apparently they found me amusing. So I'll keep you posted on the results, but unless they were specifically looking for the class clown, I'm not really holding my breath.

Let's see how this goes

Prior to moving to Sunshineville, all the way back to April when we first started thinking about moving back here, I started applying for jobs. I've sent my resume to many, many, many companies. I've applied for many, many, many jobs. I have even sent my resume to the local temp agencies. I have not heard one word from anyone. Back in late October I sent in (yet another) application to one of the local school districts for (yet another) supposedly available job. I called several times to check on the job, never actually managing to talk to a person. So eventually, I just thought I really wasn't meant to have employment. Maybe I've been out of work too long being a stay at home mom to be of interest to anyone. But today, out of the blue, I got a call from the school asking if I was still interested in the job. They want to interview me tomorrow afternoon. First things first, I needed a simple black skirt & decent top. I haven't had a full-time, permanent job for over eight years. My closet consists of jeans and tank tops for everyday and a few really nice dresses for parties and weddings. Mister C offered to come with me to pick out my new outfit and he was pretty helpful. On the way out of the store I asked him if he would hire me in my new outfit. His response? "I'd hire you if you were naked." Delivered with a smile. Ahem. Anyway, I'm fairly nervous about interviewing for the first time in forever. I'm also a little worried about the stupid questions they will inevitably ask me because that's the latest thing in interviews. The "why do you want this job?" and "where do you want to be in five years?" questions. Because I can't honestly answer those questions. Because an honest response on the first one would be something along the lines of "Well, I don't really want this job. I don't really want any job. Mostly I'm applying for jobs because Mister C works from home. And I use the term "work" quite loosely here. It seems to me that he spends an awful lot of his work time in my kitchen, hunting for food. And honestly, working in the accounting department of a school for not a whole lot of money wouldn't be my first choice, but you're the only ones that called me. So here I am. In an interview. Answering stupid questions." And then they would thank me for my time and send me on my way. So I guess I'll try a different approach. One whereby I answer the questions as though I actually want the job. Wish me luck with my dishonesty.