If you're bored then you're boring

I mowed the lawn today.

It'd been two weeks since I did it last and darned if the bloody lawn didn't grow. I was more careful with the extension cord this time. Last time I mowed the lawn I accidentally mowed the cord and blew a fuse. I'm sure my father had some compelling reason for purchasing an electric lawn mower but darned if I can figure it out. It takes me twice as long as it should because I have to keep picking up the cord and dragging it out of the way.

A few weeks ago I bought a bird feeder and a few bags of seed. I used to have a feeder in the backyard but my dad took it down when bird flu was starting to be a problem - that was the reason he gave me, anyway. Personally I think he was tired of bits of seed and bird poo being scattered from one end of the paving stones to another.

Anyway. I got a new one and the birds have already eaten three or four bags of seeds. I have to fill it every day. I don't mind. It's sort of like the birds are my little pets, only I don't have to clean up after them or smell them or any of that.

I've seen a few hummingbirds as well, since the orange blossoms popped out last month. The backyard smells so nice ... as long as the guy who lives behind me isn't out smoking cigars, which he seems to do every time I go out to pull weeds.

I've been doing a bit of sewing to pass the time. My serger isn't working properly. I've checked the threading three times and everything looks OK but it won't stitch. It's VERY irritating and I hate even looking at it. Fortunately I've got some good pinking shears for neatening seams. I've used them a lot.

Jeeze, I'm boring. I have only recently started to realize what a dreadfully boring person I am. I guess I'll go back to my birds. They don't care if I'm boring as long as I feed them.

nothing whatever

I've been up to almost nothing lately. I seem to be having trouble finding any kind of motivation to be productive. I don't have it in me to read like I used to. I can't write worth a darn lately. Everything bores me these days.

I played a video game after a late breakfast, then spent a half-hour or so cutting out pattern pieces for something I'll probably never sew. I still haven't finished with the last thing I started sewing. I got to step 10 and the instructions stopped making sense. I can't figure out WHAT Simplicity wants me to do with that bias tape. So the item in question is sitting, half-sewn, on my sewing table, and there it'll stay until I work up some kind of enthusiasm for it again.

I played the piano for a few minutes, too, which only served to remind me that bad things happen when I don't play for three months.

Then this evening I thought, hey, I've DONE my taxes, maybe I ought to mail them. So I put my federal form in the envelope. I'd have mailed state as well but I owe them money and I can't find my checkbook. I'll have to do that tomorrow ... or the next day. Not only can I not find my checkbook, I find I am sadly lacking the $100 I owe the state of Arizona. Good thing I've still got a month left on that. I was much more concerned with mailing my federal taxes in since I'm expecting a tidy little refund.

I voted on Tuesday. I guess that's something.

And tomorrow, I'll ... discuss my lack of motivation with my therapist, I suppose. It's what I pay him for.

Car talk

I think my car knows my dad died.

I don't have the greatest car in the world. It's a '97 Chevy Cavalier and it was 10 grand brand-new. It's never been a great car and in fact it loses value by the second. It's like those car commercials where money flies out the tailpipe as the car goes down the road. It's got I think barely 80,000 miles on it and it's worth about $1200.

I digress. Despite not being the best car in the world, it really hasn't given me much trouble in the seven years it's been mine. A few years back I had a new A/C put in, and I think a few other fairly important things have been replaced, but it's usually good about starting up when I turn the key and the gears shift properly and it gets me from here to there with very little fuss. Also, I can make a U-turn in a lane and a half in that little car, no mean feat I assure you.

So despite its shortcomings, I dearly love my little car. I try my best to take care of it. And when my dad was alive, he kept it maintained and changed the oil and rotated the tires and that sort of thing. And my little car was happy.

Since my father died in September, I have had my car towed to the shop three times, and this evening marked my second flat tire in six months. I'm on my second battery in four months, and I have reason to believe that the alternator isn't going to last much longer. This car has given me nothing but trouble for the past six months.

In all fairness, some of the trouble started while my dad was still alive strictly speaking. The first flat tire, for instance, happened in the parking garage on third and I discovered it while driving myself and my mother home from St. Joe's on a Saturday night when we thought he might still wake up at some point. But it's like my car just knew. It knew that it was up to me to maintain it. And I am crap at maintaining cars.

As luck would have it, my brother has referred my mother and me to one of the last honest mechanics in the state, so we haven't had to pay an unreasonable amount of money to keep it going. But it's times like these that I miss my dad. The auto shop is, incidentally, right across the street from the cemetery. So every time I'm down there, I sort of glance across Main street and think, oh, Dad. If only you were here.

But he's not, and he won't be again. I like to think that my car knows this, and that it's not breaking down to be difficult. I think it misses him, too.

So ...

I haven't updated this blog in a while. I think the problem is that I'm a very boring person and that I don't really do a whole heck of a lot.

The biggest and most exciting thing that's happened to me lately is that I got my hands on a few boxes of Girl Scout cookies a few days ago. I've been waiting a year for those suckers. They are like crack. I especially needed good cookie news since I just recently discovered that back in October Mother's Cookies went out of business. No more English Tea cookies for me. And I loved those cookies. I loved them dearly.

That's about it. Cookies, I think. And I've done a bit of sewing and, by extension, cursing at my sewing machine.

Baby you can wash my car ...

I had another unusually productive day.

I got up early because my therapy appointment got moved to today at 11am. I woke up at 9:30 and had a little breakfast and played a little Animal Crossing before I left. I got home a little past noon and had all kinds of energy so I decided to wash my mother's car.

None of our cars have been washed since before my dad died. The cars were his thing - cleaning, maintenance, all that stuff. All 3 cars look so sad. I think they miss my dad too. My car certainly knows he's dead, because it never gave me a lick of trouble seven or eight months ago but it's not started three different times since September.

Anyway. I washed my mom's Highlander. I got a Mr. Clean Auto Dry a while back and darned if the bloody thing didn't leak in about six places. I got a lot more water on my clothes than on the car. Eventually I gave up on Mr. Clean, got out a bucket, and did things the old-fashioned way.

I didn't get the top washed off, just hosed off, on account of I'm about 5'3 and I can't reach that high. But the car is 90% clean and pretty and that's good enough for me.

My car, parked next to the Highlander in the driveway, got all kinds of funky water spots on it. I felt bad; it looked all dirty and sad and lonely. I was just going to clean the outside of the windows with my Windex but I wiped at a muddy spot on the door and the next thing I knew I was wiping the whole car down with Windex. It looked better when I was done. Now it's just the Camry that looks dusty and sad.

I was going to wash it too, after the Highlander, but I underestimated the effort that goes into washing a car and I was tired and slightly sunbaked so it didn't happen. Maybe tomorrow. I'll have to check the weather. The Highlander stays in the garage most of the time so it's not big deal if it rains soon as far as that goes, but the Camry's parked in the street so if I were to wash it and two days later there's rain, I'd be irked.

I was kind of tired after that so I had a little lunch and went to the bookstore. I read "Inkheart" after I saw the movie and both book and movie are fantastic. I bought the sequel in paperback ("Inkspell") and I swear, that was all I was going to get. I was going to leave right after that. What was I thinking? I can't go into a bookstore and get ONE THING. I bought four books and a discounted Magnetic Poetry box.

I ended up having dinner at Oregano's with a friend of mine and darned if that wasn't a good meal. I heart Italian food, especially a good bowl of pasta. So that was fun.

Wednesday is a big TV night for me so that's how I ended my day. How awesome is "Lost," seriously? One twist after another. I love it. I've also been watching "Lie To Me" which is a kick.

I didn't sleep enough so I'm tired despite the fact that it's before midnight. I think I'm going to turn in early tonight. Who knows what I'll get done tomorrow?

Well, probably nothing. But you never know.

Yay, me!

I had an unusually productive day.

I got my W2 in the mail - CC4K was cutting it a bit fine, if you ask me, considering employers are required by law to provide you with a W2 by February 2nd - which is to say, today. They're lucky the mailman wasn't slacking off.

I got my EZ-File booklets in the mail weeks ago and I got them out today. I did my federal taxes first because I thought they would be trickier. I was wrong. My Arizona 104 form was like an English comprehension exam of the worst sort. There were about a dozen worksheets and tables and I had to try to figure out three times whether I qualified for some exemption or credit or another (and in one case, I earned exactly sixteen dollars too much to qualify - Grr). The upside is the feds owe me nearly $600. The downside is that I owe the state a hundred.

I wanted to do something sort of boring and repetitive after that to ease my brain so I decided to tackle my latest project, which was my mother's office curtains. I measured fifty-six inches from the top in about twenty different places and made a mark, then connected the dots. I did this on the curtain and attached lining on both panels. Then I cut on the line.

Over to the serger, then, to finish the cut edges on four pieces of fabric. Then back to the cutting table with my seam gauge to pin the edges. Then back to the sewing table to finish up. I made my mother iron them but she didn't mind - they were her curtains after all.

Then I took some fabric scraps, measured out two long rectangles and serged the edges for tiebacks. Time for my last project - a pillow cover. I took a few quick measurements, marked my fabric, and cut. Once more to the serger, then a quick stitch on the edges. I shoved the pillow into the case and stitched it closed.

So my mother's office is pretty much complete now - or at least, my part of it is done. After the curtains were ironed I climbed onto the desktop and hung them up. I took a few pictures for my mom's Facebook page since everyone wants to see her pretty new office.

In retrospect it wasn't a whole heck of a lot but compared to my usual routine I got a lot done.

Which is sort of sad. Oh well. Here's to progress.

Achy breaky head

I have a migraine.

This is nothing new; I pretty much always have a migraine. I'm getting tired of it. I don't just get headaches. I get massive, mutant headaches that last entire weeks. Excruciating headaches.

My dad had a horrible headache before he died. I think about that sometimes.

My father never had any brain tumor symptoms - headaches, blurred vision with occasional flashes of light, that sort of thing. That was always me. I've been seeing a neurologist for years. I've had CAT scans and MRIs and that sort of thing before.

I had an MRI about six weeks after my dad died. Just as a precaution. Brain tumors aren't hereditary that we know of. That's the thing about them - there's very little that researchers have managed to figure out about them. No one knows what causes them.

My October MRI was clean; I knew it would be. I wanted one anyway for peace of mind. Dr. Kapoor said that was pretty common for people who have lost someone to brain cancer. She said she had no problem signing off on one for me.

I don't have a tumor. I don't think I ever will. But I think about it a lot. Every time I get a headache.