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sparkly

Today is a banner day. After one entire year of living in this house, we are finally going to have a sparkly new dishwasher installed. This house has never even had any dishwasher at all before.

Hallelujah! Amen!

Actually, the dishwasher won’t do much for me besides filling the gaping hole we have had in the cabinets for the past 4 months. Mr. A does the vast majority of the dishes, so he will be happy. I might even try to get in the habit of putting my own dishes directly in the dishwasher instead of piling them next to the sink. I am sure Mr. A would appreciate that. (Shut up! It is the division of labor we worked out. I don’t see him washing his own damn underwear just because he is capable.)

Let’s all knock on wood that the dishwasher will be installed without any issues. I am a bit nervous that they will say the hole is the wrong size or the drain hole is in the wrong place or something. Cross your fingers.

If the dishwasher goes in ok, and if I can find the time to finish painting the cabinets and touching up all the ~~giant fucking gouges in the trim from the tile guys~~ minor scuffs in the paint, the kitchen should be done in another week and a half.

Can I get another HALLELUJAH?

It would be done even sooner, but I am driving through ~~the sixth circle of hell~~ the beautiful mountains of West Virginia* to live out my lifelong dream of being on the witness stand without a fear of going to jail testify in a friend’s custody hearing and to see a gorgeous new baby.

In the meantime, I am really enjoying reading your questions. I am not going to start answering them until Nablopomo in Novemeber, but I am thinking about them nevertheless. Please feel free to keep them coming.

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*I do believe the WV turnpike was designed by sadists. No cell reception, no where to stop, super-steep mountains and stomach-turning curves. And it is LONG. Four hours through WV is enough to make me want to pay the extra $200 to just fly already.

SDS

Ever since we moved in, we have had a problem with our garage. That problem’s name is Animals.

When we first took possession of the house, I spent an entire day shoveling a large trashcan full of poop out of every disgusting crevasse and corner. Then we disinfected and painted the whole thing. Then, I blocked off every opening that was big enough to permit raccoons* or squirrels to enter the garage. I even went as far as sprinkling some kind of coyote pee around the garage in an attempt to scare the squirrel away.

I thought the problem was solved. HAHAHAHA. My house laughs at my naivete.

The fucking squirrel is back. It has created a little back door entrance to it’s stupid nut storage facility in the garage soffit by chewing a small hole along the gutter. It drops down from the walnut tree on to the roof, then stores all it’s walnuts there.

I have had it with the animals in the garage, but I am also managing the kitchen remodel situation, so I set Mr. A to work on it. When I told him to take care of the squirrels was for him to call the pest control people. Instead, he has decided to take them on himself.

Mr. A has created what he calls the Squirrel Defense System (SDS). I admit, I have my doubts about the SDS. It involves the following:

Mothballs jammed into the soffit, supposedly to stink the squirrel out. Apparently the squirrel doesn’t mind the stink, but I think it smells TERRIBLE.
A strobe light that is intended to be so annoying the squirrel can’t sleep. Strangely, Mr. A chose to mount this in the middle of the garage where I have never, ever seen the squirrel sleeping. He has also mis-set the timer so it is blinking all day instead of at night. The squirrel does not seem to mind it at all.
A live trap baited with peanutbutter in a tunafish can.

I had the most hope for the trap. So far, we caught one chipmunk…twice. We also attracted a raccoon which stole the tuna fish can out of the trap without setting it off. Then, when Mr. A set the same trap up on the roof near the hole, the raccoon managed to climb onto the garage roof, rip off a number of gutter guard/screens and remove the tuna fish can before dropping the cage on the ground.

It does not appear that the squirrel has any interest in the trap. He does seem to be mocking our efforts though. Once we set the trap, he has been leaving us walnuts in very obvious places. He left one on the back porch steps. He left on right in the middle of the back patio. He left on on the front porch railing. He left on in the basement window well. Everywhere we go, there are very poorly hidden walnuts taunting us.

Last night, Mr. A moved the trap to the garage. This morning, I found the trap was sprung, but empty. It also had a huge pile of old walnut shells dumped right on top of it.

I swear, I heard the squirrel laughing.

*Is the plural of raccoon just raccoon? Because spellcheck is adamantly opposing that s on the end there

The Pastor

You know how you know when you have a problem?

When the pastor recommends you get a restraining order.

I should probably back up and say I made an appointment with the crazy lady’s pastor (her church is in my back yard) to hopefully get someone else to deal with this stupid problem… and maybe just maybe embarrass Joan so much she will back off.

Things I learned from the pastor:

-At their first meeting, Joan cornered the pastor at a church picnic and talked to her for 20-30 minutes about the Dead Guy.

- Joan refers to the Dead Guy as “her prince.” Gag.

-Joan was obsessed with the house before we moved in. (This is a relief, because I felt bad that my initial niceness lead to this crazy. Apparently the crazy was there long ago and I just didn’t see it.)

-Joan has convinced herself that she is entitled to our house, even though after 11 years of dating the Dead Guy did not invite her to move in, marry her, or give her the house in his will. As the pastor said, “There was no evidence to support her claim that she should have the house.”

-The guy who lives next door to our house is the church caretaker. He also took care of our house while it was vacant. Before they sold the house to us, Joan tried to convince the caretaker to get involved in convincing the Dead Guy’s daughter’s that she was supposed to get the house. For obvious reasons, this is both crazy and made him quite uncomfortable. That campaign resolved when we bought the house…lucky us.

-The pastor said she has recommended grief counseling to Joan many many times. She said for the past year she seemed like she was doing a bit better…until this past month. The pastor said lately she has had “that glassy eyed, vacant expression again.” This coincides quite strongly with the increase in creeptastic lurking I had noticed.

-The pastor agreed with me that I can not have any more interaction with Joan. We must have rock solid boundaries because she will violate them, given any opportunity.

-I said if this continues, I think our next move is to contact the police. ”For a restraining order?” the pastor asked. “I guess, I don’t know.” I said. ”I think that a restraining order would be wise.” she said. Then she offered to talk the the police for us if it would be helpful (!!!).

The pastor is going to talk to one of Joan’s friends and try to enlist her help in talking to Joan. She isn’t going to tell her we talked to her (the pastor) just yet. She said she isn’t very hopeful that anything will change.

I don’t expect much to change either. I am going to keep a journal of when I notice her doing weird stuff. I will probably also call our local police department, just to find out if they have any suggestions.

If nothing else, at the very least I have confirmation that it isn’t me blowing things out of proportion. Joan really is a nutcase.

sparkly

SDS

The Pastor

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