1. We got 90% of Winnie Winter’s (All-Season) Chalet finished today. We would have had enough wood for a roof but some of the pallet wood had rusty nails right where we needed to make a cut. We had to discard a bunch. We decided on a plywood roof but I’m going to go to the Habitat restore and check out what I can repurpose. For now, we piled up a bunch of the extra lumber. As for the building process, Jerry poopoo’d my building plans for absolutely no reason beside the fact that I had zero plans drawn out, not one measurement done, the one YouTube video I watched used the metric system we don’t know, and I explained how we would pitch the roof by saying “we are just gonna use some of this wood and figure out how high we want it and trace over here.” Rude. Double rude was when I told him that I wouldn’t rather build a doghouse with anybody else and he said “I would! Like Bob Vila or somebody.” Here’s the 90% solution and 1 picture of us trying to wrangle the circus around power tools:
2. I am not diggity down with these moths on bath salts this year. There is NO WAY that they were this bad last year or I would remember. When I opened the fence door this afternoon, I was SWARMED. Alfred Hitchcock ain’t never written anything half as scary as just minding your own business and being attacked by those tiny rats with wings. Jack is safe, but these frappin’ moths, murder hornets, and whatever the Hell else is coming down the pipes (figuratively and also quite possibly literally) has gotta be somewhere in the lost Exodus chapters. The only thing I can image that would be worse than murmuration of moths is if it were cockroaches. And, that, my friends, is why we will hopefully always live in the MidWest/West upon retirement… roaches are few and far between. Ya know, unless one is a cardboard stowaway and flies directly at your face when you try to unpack a box. Speaking of, and this is a hard left turn so just stick with me here. When we lived in Monterey there was a huge drought. We weren’t supposed to water our lawns but for like 30 min 1 x a week and we definitely weren’t supposed to wash our cars. Our duplex neighbor’s solution to that pesky not being allowed to wash his car openly problem was to wash his car IN the garage with the door shut. Y’ALL. IN THE GARAGE WITH THE DOOR SHUT. He turned the walls of his garage, which coincidentally connected to ours, into basically paper mache! Every cockroach in the entire state of California got a handwritten letter with one of those adorable little wax stamps to come and live in our garages. I have never felt so gypped in my entire life. If I wanted to have mini heart attacks every time I went in my garage, we could have gone to Florida. At least the beaches there are warm.
3. Idk what bloomed, what rubbed up against me, what allergens the damn moths kicked up, or whhhhaaaat but my face swole up this afternoon out of nowhere. I started sneezing too and I got the wheeze. Marian and I went to take the dog for a quick walk and I started sneezing so bad and couldn’t stop. I have had too many kids to trust even 1 singular sneeze. 40 consecutive sneezes is a whole other scenario for which I was completely unprepared. I made it 3/4 of a block before I sorta sneeze shouted at Marian to abort mission. I had to come home and scrub myself and take all the allergy medicine. Every. Single. One. Thankfully Benadryl comes in a handy dandy liquid and I can wash them all down with a dose of coma. This was at 4. I’m still awake at 730. If this blog makes absolutely no sense, you’ll know it was the Benadryl talking. If it does makes sense, you can marvel at a mom’s ability to continue to mom despite taking a horse’s dose of antihistamines.
4. There is sad stuff to write about today too, but I’m not gonna. Our great friends are moving tomorrow and we said goodbye today. I don’t want to write about it until I feel like I can honor my feelings and I’m not ready to do that tonight. I’m not sure when it will be, but it’s part of the COVID journey so it deserves its place on paper.