Paging Mr. Havacek

So it's Friday and getting close to the end of the day, so it's time to start wondering if Chris will get paid on time this week. He's busy working and I'm busy working and I'm thinking of texting him this:

"Paging Mr. Havacek. Chris Havacek?"

Because this is my sense of humor.

But this week, and last week, it just didn't feel like something to worry about, and it wasn't. Apparently, the problem left. Maybe that was the problem, maybe that is the scapegoat, but whatever. I'm starting to see what he means about treating money as more of a flow than anything permanent. Money leaves and money will come. And if we're lucky there will continue to be unexpected surprises on both ends.

On a lighter note, I figured out why the house is such a mess. Chris thinks it's because Ant's gone, and that is certainly a valid reason, but I often have bursts of productivity for cleaning that become rabid eight-hour sessions of OCD. The house gets messier until I can't stand it anymore and suddenly I can do nothing but clean. This whole week has been a loss though, and coincidentally it has been hot as shit. Yes, steaming pile of poop hot. And about as inspiring. Our poor, sad little window A/C unit is trying its best to keep up- pray that it does not fail. In such heat, no wonder I can't get anything done. As it is, I can't run the dishwasher, dryer, or use the oven until 10 at night. Speaking of which, it is now time to go clean what I can until I get tired now that my body is used to the work schedule.

Someday there will be funds coming from more creative pursuits with less confining schedules... and a house that is mostly underground, eliminating the need for heating or cooling costs. For now there is a steady work and a hot, messy house during the summers. I always think July will be the worst, but I must remember that you can't spell August without ug.

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Blog and a Jog

Just kidding, I don't jog. But I am out for a quick walk around the building to get some extra steps in. If I take a few laps during my breaks then I can add a mile to my otherwise pathetic number of steps during the work day. Chris and I have been wearing pedometers and comparing/harassing each other about our results. He giggles at my work day results, but is surprised at how fast I can catch up at home. He has the record for the lowest total so far with 97 steps. I'm only harassing him- he changed his pants before he went to work and forgot to move the pedometer. ;D

So two small items that amused me:

1- I got home too late to take the dogs out, so I threw the ball for Jasmine in the front yard. I got a little overzealous and the ball bounced into the street, but my smart girl did not go bouncing after it. She sat down at the end of the driveway and wagged her tail, asking me nicely if I would go get it for her. I love it when training sticks- even years later. Good girl!

2- This morning I put on a shirt I haven't worn in a while and wondered where I got it.

"Kohl's? It's kind of weird, maybe it's Vera Wang."

Then I laughed as I realized:

"This is not nearly weird enough to be Vera Wang."

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Bacon Sundae

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Boys and Birthday Girls

Yesterday we drove out to Topaz to deliver Ant and celebrate Elaine's birthday. She said all she wanted was a cake baked by Ant, so I had him decide what he'd like to make. He decided on a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and strawberries on top. We ran many errands this weekend and ended up at the store shopping for ingredients at 10 o'clock Saturday night. At home, Ant was a trooper and we carefully measured out our cake mix from scratch. We followed that recipe exactly, but something went wrong and the cake overflowed from the pans and onto the oven coil, which made for the most delightful aroma. I had to pull the cake out early and it looked doomed- sunk in the middle and burned around the edges.

"Jenny, WHAT are we going to DO!?!?" wailed Ant from behind me. "Grandma's cake is RUINED! She is going to HATE me!"

I turned around with a baffled "Calm yourself" look and found that Ant has moved on from crying catastrophes to the golden age of sarcasm.

"So what are we going to do?" he asked.

"Buy Grandma a cake."

When I went to pick up Chris, I told him the cake was lost, but he didn't seem to think so as he gobbled up the edges. He coaxed the cakes out of their pans and started carving them up.

"Where's the frosting?'

There we were, finishing the cake at four in the morning. Chris chopped the strawberries, helped me whip up the frosting, and totally salvaged that cake. We had already spent a significant amount of time at the library on Saturday trying to find good pictures to print out for Elaine because grandmas need photos and I really wanted to give her more for her birthday. Ant and I picked up the pictures and he helped me arrange them until he could hold his head up no more.

I'm sitting here at work trying to finish this blog on my phone when it occurs to me that I can just publish it and edit with an actual keyboard.  Ohhhh.

So Jennyway, I had all these plans figured out- we're going to go pick out pictures as a family, upload them to Walgreen's, find a photo album, bake a cake... but the computer at the library slowed down more and more until I was ready to throw it through the window.  Chris lost his attention span early on and starting pinching Ant, who had to work hard to refrain from making a racket in the library.  It took probably two hours to get this done and that's why we ended up with a bacon sundae at Burger King afterwards.

This is where I would post the picture if I could upgrade the browser on this computer enough to have all the Blogger options.  Sigh.

And by the way, on Saturday when I was shooing Ant through the last errands, he said that I wear them both out by trying to do too much. I pointed out that nobody had done dammit to prepare for the birthday girl but me, and they were welcome to pitch in on the plans anytime. He immediately agreed and apologized, and spent the trip at Wal-Mart being very involved in cake decisions. Then he worked hard on the cake. Then he helped me with the album until he passed out. Then Chris comes home that night after a VERY long day and performs cake surgery. I was quite relieved and grateful.

So by the time Sunday rolls around I've had very little sleep, but the cake and photo album are done.  I herded the boys through a couple more stops and we got Elaine her card, a balloon, and some sunflowers.  We had a lovely time when we finally got out there.  I called her before I left to ask a very important question: "Have I been in the lake yet this year?"

I thought Sunday would be my annual dip, but it just wasn't that hot outside and I was much happier sitting on the dock with Chris and Elaine watching Ant dive and the dogs swim after sticks.  And Riley trying to bite splashes, of course.  We had perfect burgers for dinner and while the cake did not belong on the cover of a magazine, it did not look like it died a painful death in the oven either.  And it tasted fine.

With Ant camped out in Topaz and the dogs passed out in the car, we were on the way home when Chris said thanks.  I asked him for what and he said "Today. You were the backbone."

Thanks, baby. And thanks for saving that cake.

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Those eyes...

So I'm sitting here at Chris's friend's house half-listening to them discuss songs and software and in the middle of a sentence Lucas interrupts himself to yell at his crazy-eyed Weimaraner.

"ELEANOR, GET YOUR FAT NOSE OFF THE COUNTER!"

Eleanor creeps back into the living room with her wild, crazy eyes and Lucas sighs.

"She ate a whole stick of butter earlier."

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If that wasn't entertaining enough...

...apparently I was supposed to be taking it easy for a couple weeks after this procedure and just had some lovely results from not doing that.  I didn't know.  Last night, Chris googled the effects of the procedure and told me I was fine, that lots of women had the same results.  Then he got quiet.  Then he fended off my questions, telling me only that there are some very bad possibilites.  Then he curled up with me and laid his head on my belly and told me he loved me.  Oh shit, am I dying?  Good grief.  Thankfully, the doctor cleared me this morning and we're good.  But sheesh- when it rains, it pours, huh?