Wednesday, 2 May 2007

My Train of Thought Rides A Twisty Rail

I have finally regained access to my keyboard!!!

I have had to completely rearrange this back room-and I had just gotten through my yearly bout of "cleaning" (which admittedly left it looking far worse than it had beforehand).

We got a call from my uncle a week ago all worried as only he can be-my grandma was insisting she wanted to move. We've since found out she is also is not taking her meds or eating or leaving her house. Then says "I don't know why I am getting such terrific headaches". Frick. Her doctor has told mama that she's giving herself CVA related dementia from not takeing the blood pressure meds. Double frick.
It is obvious her independent days are over and we have decided to bring her down here where of course she will move into the back room for now. While I thought I might put her in my room and move back here, I think that may have required even more work. Though my dresser was built for the closet back here...feh.

While mama went to get her I got to stay home with Estupido dog, and change the room around. I guess I could say I've made several discoveries as I moved all the stuff:

Damn I have a lot of fabric. I mean day-mn! It didn't seem that bad when I was organizing it a month or so ago, only six drawers full...Well one was full of UFO's. But now that I am trying to find some other place for six drawers worth of fabric-well, damn.

I have like ten years worth of VK's. Huh. And probably ten years worth of yarn to go with them. I forgot how beautiful some of the yarn is, or what I bought it for, for that matter. I petted the yarn for awhile, that was nice. I think I might hoard silk like Fafnir hordes gold. Death before relinquishment of the silk-not necessarily mine either.

I found the dirt I stole from PEI!

I hope whoever put the house breaker box in the wall of this huge closet so we could never make it smaller or change it has long since been choked with electrical wire.

Also that whoever painted my little sideboard bright blue died as a result of the paint being lead based. Why did I tell old Fridolf that I had one of the doors for that? He refused to make two new ones because "that one is perfectly good". And I knew darn well he'd do that. Now I have one nice one and one covered with the wicked vestiges of the electric blue paint of death.

Of course maybe it would matter if I could find the hinges I bought and actually put them on.

My dad had quite the doorknob/hinge collection. None of which fit the new door I had to put on the room...I ended getting annoyed and attacking it with my angle grinder when it wouldn't fit. It does now!

He also had a nice door collection in the shed, but I knew that. He used to rebuild the doors for sound, and the one I took off was substantially heavier than the one I replaced it with.

Also many were reconstructed after another round of hurricane Richard. One was "fixed" (I use the term loosely) by Phil trying to disguise the fact that he had smashed the front door in with a golf club. If he was your brother you'd lock him out of the house too.

The pantry door is still in one piece out there! No reconstructions.

I had to use my lino cutter on the door because if I can't see something I can't find it, and the chisel got pushed under a bag of garbage and ceased to exist for awhile.

Dad also had a ski wax set in the Ugly Metal Thing (a cabinet of sorts in our porch). It, along with the sideboard came from our camper and when we got rid of it, we brought them home. they were both covered in green, orange and yellow flowered mac-tac. Think of the fugliest patterns the 70's could conceive, that is this mac-tac. "Assault on the eyes" is simply not enough to convey it's hideousness. The Ugly Metal Thing still has it.

Also in the Ugly Metal Thing was the adaptor Mr Korfman gave us when he converted Richard's fisher price tape player to AC. Mr. Korfman could fix anything, especially electronics or bikes that you had wrecked while trying to pop-a-wheelie or something. I had a Micheal Jackson radio that never worked until he fixed it. It's probably a given, but that was back when a Michael Jackson radio was cool enough to be worth fixing. It was red and black of course. I saw Mr Korfman when I was on my practicum as he had returned to town for a visit. I wonder if he still fixes kids' bikes and radios.

I found an adaptor in with all the wires from the computer, with no corresponding thing to be adapted. No idea where it came from.

My idiot brother has kept issues of Run from 1986 because he thinks they will be worth money someday. They are full of things to do with your commodore 64. I wonder whatever happened to the commodore 64. I remember one time my auntie was coding a game on it and she was almost done when one of Phil's friends accidentally turned the power off. Hours of work -for naught! Haha.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to remember how to put that quilt hoop together again.

Happy now I did not buy a spinning wheel!!

I've had too many years of owning that back room, I had crap EVERYWHERE. And now I am not particularly sure what I am going to do with all of it, especially the books that had been in the side of the closet I converted into bookshelves and now is a closet again. I have to do something with this computer too.

Wow that is very rambley-well now you have a little look into the little hamster wheels of my mind's workings.

ETA-with all of that, I forgot to mention it is Athanasius Day. Have a happy belated fight to the death for the truth!


mem said...

I take it you titled this entry after writing it? (The way it should be done, really.)

You know, I've been meaning to ask you about your logically inconsistent Hockey Doctrine. I mean, if you moved south, would that make you likewise unredeemed? It seems like you're implying that only people who live sufficiently North are saved. Isn't that contradicting your Calvinism? (Now you know exactly why I abbreviate Bible Study as BS so many times. It's not because I don't respect it, of course, but because there are occasions when the former resembles the latter.)

It sounds to me like you need an RJX-21. (Please don't be drinking anything when you look at this, because I can almost guarantee that it'll be spewing from your nose.)

My grandmother may possibly move in with us also, though mostly I think because she is having a hard time with her own place now. It would be nice for me, I think, but my folks may be somewhat more put upon.

I can totally relate to locking your brother out of the house. (Maybe it's bad, but I laughed really hard when I read this entry this morning.) Not because I actually locked him out of the house, but because I have an older brother also. We once got in a fight, and I was angry...instead of hitting him, I smashed a (small) hole in our bedroom door. We told my parents we were throwing a football down the hall and that I ran into it. I really hope Mom doesn't read your blog comments.

I hope things improve some. A larger house is sometimes cheerier, having to move things notwithstanding. Good luck with all that yarn. Don't turn it into a garrote!

(Oh, and regarding more effective captchas, see this. I'm pretty sure I would lose on this count.)

mem said...

Haha, yes, that is a terrific comic. I think one of my favorites (which you may or may not appreciate) involves a certain grammatical construction. I have spent a couple hours at a time reading his stuff.

I guess my question about your Hockey Doctrine was more in the realm of the actual players themselves. So did all of the Jets go from heaven to hell as they translated from Winnipeg to Phoenix? Or is this more a case of "They went out from us, but were not of us"? If so, you're still a little stuck as that means being a Northern hockey team does not automatically confer salvation on the players, which sort of defeats the original purpose of making such a geographical distinction in the first place. I guess this could fall under your blanket "It's-a-paradox" cop-out. ;)

My brother and I fought quite a bit (as did my sister and I, though she usually came out on the worse end of those bouts; BUT, despite a great deal of abuse dished out, I don't think I ever punched her in the face). Only once did I put a hole in the door, and it was indeed rather small. In fact, it is far more impressive in the retelling than it is in actual fact. That said, I am confident that if push came to shove (so to speak) I should be able to manage something considerably larger today.

mem said...

Your reference to Cocytus confuses me, because as we know, it is cold in Cocytus, and it is hot in Phoenix. I have never visited either hell, but I expect that their positions should be rather reversed. Granted, Inferno is not quite on the same level as Holy Writ, but this is simply because the Espicopalian Church hasn't read it recently enough to add it to the canon.

Regardless, all of your ad homenim argumentation is insufficient to cover the obvious imperfections in your logic.

I only drink whiskey straight, thank you, and only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I self-flagellate (how does that not sound perverted?) every other Saturday while listening to the Backstreet Boys. Roughly five minutes counts as a fortnight of penance in the RCC system and sanctifies me progressively more than any Methodist you could hope to meet, with the possible exception of Wesley, who is still more polite than I.

I think roughly two people post comments on my blog, and my sister ran away from it many days ago on account of my Dingus Khan statement.

Or perhaps the rest of the world just doesn't want to get sucked into Char's Ridiculousness Vortex.

(Also, I laughed very hard at UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.)

mem said...

HEY. I found the Email with the Best Captcha EVER.

mem said...

Vortex? Did I say vortex? I obviously didn't use enough adjectives. What I really meant was, "Char's Swirling Vortex of Utter Ridicularity." That you can use the words "sober-minded" and "Scot" in the same sentence is yet another indication that your mind is totally depraved. But at least it explains your hair. (Unfortunately, I have no excuse for mine, hereditary or otherwise.)

I am surprised that you have not yet cited the most obvious example of your Hockey Doctrine, namely the Dallas Stars. Marty Turco emanates from Ann Arbor, MI, the Nexus of Satan Himself. That the North Stars moved south, and that Satan's Own Minion tends goal for them is perhaps a better argument for your position than any heretofore proposed. Nonetheless, the Wayne Contradiction still plagues your doctrinal position. I believe a more specific hatred may be required. This permits us, for example, to hate the New Jersey Devils for all appropriate reasons (not the least of which is the fact that it's New Jersey).

And yes, this is a great deal of fun. I'm slightly frightened that I understand your comments, however. And that you posted a comment to my blog about the time that I was waking up this morning.

mem said...

Maybe I should've said, "hair color," as opposed to "hair," since red hair seems to be a Scottish feature.

Also, I laughed hysterically at the not Scottish = crap. In fact, I could be persuaded to continue for some time.

Somehow, this reminded me of you, mostly because of the scene between the brothers. Someday, when your brothers apologize for turning your nose into a sausage[1], you can reference this scene as you hug and say, "You bastard."

[1] My nose actually has bubbles that may be depressed in a strange way. I'm not sure how this happened, but it seems to have coincided with my hair loss. Nothing else seems to have been affected...yet.

mem said...

SIMAAM is a pretty hilarious movie. I have not seen it in many years, since I went to visit a friend in Cleveland. And I confess, I don't remember much of the movie, only the part where Mike Myers is like, "WTF?" This is where most of us busted out laughing.

I will try not to remind you about losing the genetic lottery, but I confess that I think you could've lost much worse. (At least you'll probably keep all your hair. :)

And yes, the nose thing is weird. But it makes it easy to entertain myself during boring sermons, lectures, or office meetings.

mem said...

Hey dooder, I am guessing you go away for the weekend, or that you are busy not being lazy. I hope you got sleep, because I didn't!