Breaking the rules...

Today, I finally started one of the projects I was going to do over my vacation week. I'm aware that today is the last week day of my vacation time, but I was distracted by an overwhelming need to clean my house and prove that I'm not a hoarder. As a result, I didn't get started on the $150 master bathroom revamp project until today.


This project has actually been going on for a while. I took a break from it over the summer so that I could focus on the gardens; and now I've got all the painting to get done, as well as some cleanup left over from the spring.


I've got a hangup about towels and towel bars. Call me lazy, but if I turn off the water from the shower at one end, it seems logical to me that I should be able to get my towels from that same end. Last spring, it finally bothered me enough that I removed the towel bar from the "foot" of the tub, and put up hooks for towels at the "head" of the tub, on the wall above the toilet.

That left the wall beside the foot of the tub - across from the toilet - looking blank to me. The solution to that was to buy and hang this print:

(psst! That's a $12 print in a $15 dollar diploma frame.)

Ideally, prints are supposed to be hanged so that their center is about 60" from the floor. Except, it seems to me that if a print is going to be hanged on the wall opposite of the throne, then it is more likely to be viewed from a sitting position. So, today I lowered it so that it's centered at about 35".

I think it looks quirky and fun; as though I didn't just break the rules, I threw them out the window.

I'm such a rebel.

9-11

I was in an airplane, taxiing out to the runway and about to fly to Toronto when the first plane hit the Twin Towers.

I'll never forget that day. We sat in that plane on the tarmac for over an hour, knowing that there had been a plane crash - hearing whispers of terrorism - but not knowing who or when. Then, shortly after they finally let us off our plane, the airport started playing the CBC news over the PA system. Everybody stopped what they were doing to listen.

Looking around, all I could see was the same shock and horror that I was feeling.

9-11 was an attack on the US; but I don't think that there is a Canadian who can't tell you where they were and what they were doing at that moment. We were devastated as we gathered around TVs and watched the coverage over, and over and over again. It felt as though we had been attacked, not "just" the country beside us.

Today is the anniversary of a day that will go down in the history books as one of the worst acts of terrorism ever. Eight years later, it still feels raw.

Lineup at the Watering Hole

Can I have a turn, please?

Where I diagnose my own OCD

Forget that after watching an episode of the show Hoarders, I spent three days cleaning out my basement and my garage. Then, after watching another episode, I needed to declutter so badly that I deleted the vast majority of my Internet favorites, emails and Facebook friends.

Beyond that, I have yet another reason why I'm sure I have OCD.

I bought a new dining room set in the spring. I'd saved up for years for it, so I wanted it to be perfect. When it arrived with a chip on one of the leaves, I asked for the table top to be replaced rather than repaired.

Weeks later, after fighting with the manufacturer on my behalf, the store I bought it from finally bought a whole new table for me, and agreed to do a straight across swap. Today, that new table arrived. The delivery guys were kind enough to allow me to inspect said table before even taking it off the truck. I didn't find any scratches or dents, so they went ahead with the swap. That's when I discovered that I don't like the new pedestal. There's a minute scratch on it, I don't like the wood grains as much on this one as the other one. I was embarrassed to say that, though, so I let the delivery guys leave with the old table.

That was a mistake. After they left, I felt the stress rev up until I couldn't handle it anymore and I ended up calling the store. Bless their hearts, the service department - who had been on the receiving end of my wrath when the manufacturer balked at replacing the table top - barely blinked. They got on the phone, called the delivery guys (who had managed to drive half way across town by then) and told them to come back. They swapped out the pieces so that I get to keep the old pedestal with the new table top.

They think I'm crazy, but my stress level is once again at a manageable level.

Now, as soon as I finish writing the thank you letter to the store, I can get back to cleaning, decluttering and otherwise proving to myself that I'm not a hoarder.

JMHO

I think...


...there's some compensating going on.



And I'm not talking about the size of the truck, the decals, the bullet holes or the skulls.

ps - These photos are poor quality because I took them with my cell phone.
Thanks to Mr Moosepants for his assistance in uploading them!

Reigning it in

Hi. My name is Janice, and I have a spending problem.
Well, actually, I have no problems spending... it's that saving thing that I struggle with.

Between vet bills, home improvements, giving away my lawn mower, and things that keep breaking, it has occurred to me lately that I'm really broke. So broke, in fact, that I've had to cancel a trip I had planned with the girls. We were going to go to Vegas in November, and it would have been loads of fun. We were going to shop, eat out at fancy restaurants, and see some fancy shows.

We were going to drive me further into debt.

I was prepared to embrace that debt; but then my vacuum broke. With my allergies and proximity to pet hair, I had to buy a new one. It's something that I need, but I can't seem to get past the fact that I just bought something else that I can't afford.

So, I decided to bow out of the Vegas trip and I promised myself - once again - that I'd cut back on the spending. Start brown bagging my lunches, avoid temptation by not window shopping, write down what I spend... yadda yadda yadda.

That was Wednesday. Yesterday - Thursday - I found myself wandering around HomeSense with an ornate wooden mirror that was perfect for my bedroom.

Except, it was $100. One hundred unnecessary dollars.

Except, if I can't go to Vegas, don't I at least deserve an ornate Vegas-like mirror for my bedroom?

Back and forth, I went. It took me a half an hour to talk myself out of buying that mirror (during which time, I lugged all fifty pounds of it around the store to ensure that nobody swooped in and bought it from under me while I debated with my bank account.)

It made me realize even more that I need a plan to get my spending under control. So, I'm starting something that has worked for me in the past. I'm going Cash Only.

Every Sunday, I am going to withdraw $200 from the bank. I can spend that $200 on whatever I want; but it's all I get to cover groceries, gas, vet bills and nearly everything else. (Utility bills, taxes, mortgage and insurance comes out of a separate account.) Once the $200 is gone, I don't get to buy anything else until the next week starts. The money left in my "spending" account at the end of each month will be applied to the debt.

So, you'll have to excuse me. I've got a day and a half before my credit cards are retired on Sunday. I need to get out there and get that shopping out of my system.



Don't worry, I'm joking in that last paragraph.

Kind of.

The good, the bad and the ugly

The good:

The drugs are still working. Sergent Cotton Dog is once again on duty, patrolling the deck; and life is good. He's alert again, and has had no panic attacks since we changed the dose in early August.

The bad:

Tallulah Belle Poodle fell down the stairs last week. It was after I'd gone to bed. She was wandering around in the dark, fell down a full flight of tiled stairs and landed on the concrete floor. She shook it off and came back up on her own steam, but it scared the stuffing out of me.

I don't know what happened - I only arrived in time to see her land - but the possibility that her long hair could have hampered her vision and caused the fall is heart wrenching to me. I was thinking about the fun Tallulah got from the attention of having a funky hairdo; and I never would have knowingly endangered her. I really thought having her hair pulled back into the pony tail was enough.

Needless to say, I'm not willing to take any more chances, so I called the groomer and had top knot removed.

The Ugly:


That's the top of her head. I didn't discover it until a few days after the fall, when the hair fell out. The gash/bald spot is about 2" long. Amazingly, she seems to be unfazed by it all. Me? I'm not doing quite as well. I'm beyond upset to think that I caused her to be hurt.

I didn't see it happen, but my theory is that she somehow whacked her head, putting pressure on the clip holding her top knot , and it dug into the skin. After a week, it seems to be healing. I have no idea if the hair will grow back in, but I can tell you one thing: I won't be growing her top knot long again to cover it up if it doesn't.