weapons of massdistraction

Over the weekend I was in the mood for vegan mac’n'cheese, so I suggested to the husband that he should whip us up a batch. He replied with something along the lines of, “oh, but yours turns out so much better.” It didn’t occur to me to be suspicious. Until I was pulling the pan out of the oven. He and I (and most of the vegans we know) use essentially the same recipe, just slightly modified. So maybe he doesn’t really like mine better. Maybe he was just feeling lazy. But then I took my first bite. Mine really is better.

Also over the weekend we attended a little boy’s pirate-themed birthday party. It was scheduled for a rather early hour on Sunday morning, by certain people’s standards, so the husband was not yet conscious when it was time for us to set sail. But the little man and I, we’d been up for quite a while, and had had time to dress up like quite the scallywags (though my striped knee socks were more reminiscent of an 80s perky goth look). It was a well-planned party, with an elaborate treasure hunt and everything, and an excellent time was had by all. By the time we returned to the house we found that not only had the husband managed to rouse himself, he was standing in the middle of our bedroom, looking rather insect-like, wearing a respirator mask (because of his cat allergies, and my cats), and was dredging up items from the very depths of our closets. I knew this big purge was coming, though I had long been avoiding it. I am a pack rat. It is in my nature. But with the husband’s help, and not-so-gentle prodding, I was able to send six, count them, SIX giant garbage bags of clothing and shoes on their way to the Goodwill. These were items that I either could no longer fit into, or wouldn’t want to be seen in, whether or not I could still fit into them. Many were things I had been dragging around with me since freaking high school. Oy. So now our closets are much more open (the floor! It is visible!) and no longer spewing out into the rest of the bedroom. And the bedroom, in general, feels much less cluttered and cramped. Also, during the big purge I came across quite a few treasures. Just to name a few:

• My favorite hat, made of black polar fleece, with the kitty ears;
• A pair of Pucca house slippers;
• The big bunny t-shirt that the husband just bought me for my last birthday, but which had already gone missing in the madness;
• A ten dollar bill, crammed into the pocket of a pair of pants unworn since, oh, 2002 or so.

Now if I can only curb my tendency to hoard…so I won’t be going through this same painful exercise in another couple of years. Oh, but we haven’t gone through the little man’s closet yet. Sigh.
Plus: Because this is just the way things work for us…right after we purchased and set up our delightful Squeezebox wireless music player (seriously, just over a week later) we find out today they’ve gone and come out with a shiny new model. Curses.
And: One week until NaNoWriMo kicks off! Eeep!

This week there has been more of the sleeping and less of the posting, but I don’t feel rested. Dammit. Oh well. Some thoughts had while horizontal…

Third time’s the charm, right? The third roofing contractor was supposed to come out to the house yesterday to give us *his* opinion on the state of our roof. Then the plan was to decide which of the three opinions we most agree with and go with one. But dude never showed, and a phone call revealed that they’re behind schedule, so that whole exterior thing is sort of in limbo. In interior news, next Wednesday the electrician comes. But the time at which the electrician is coming is highly entertaining, to me, at least. You see, the husband works from home, and his company is on West Coast time. So he generally doesn’t start working, or even wake up, until around 10am daily. This suits him well. But the electrician is most decidedly not on West Coast time. The electrician is coming to the house at 7am. It would be funnier still if I didn’t have to be the husband’s human alarm clock, but at least I’ll be able to bug out shortly after waking him up.

When we were in Duluth recently I made a breakthrough with my plan for NaNo, while I was in the shower, naturally. That’s where I have all my best thoughts…but I lose most of them before I can capture them in any meaningful way (note to self: still need to obtain waterproof voice recorder that won’t make me sound like a ninny). Anyhow, the idea is this. The novel I wrote last year will actually be the sequel to the novel I write this year, which means the novel I write this year will be the prequel. So it’s sort of a good thing I never got around to editing last year’s novel after all, because I’ll be needing to edit a few bits and pieces, but not too much. It’s all going to come together perfectly, I can feel it. Umm, sure.

Bonus: Episode 20 of Making Fiends is on the scene. It is big and fancily fiendish, and little man approved.
Plus: There are many types of creative types in the world, of course, and I admire all sorts. Especially these folks (via Loobylu).
And: I recently loaned my Firefly boxset to our friend Big Dave, who watched and enjoyed all of the episodes. If only I could get the husband to stop referring to the show as “Buffy in Space” now, and maybe even have him watch at least, oh, one episode. But no, somehow I married a Whedon-hater.

Life goes on. Having the little man around helps. So rather than going on my bi-annual melancholy trek to my brother’s grave, I took the little man to a place my brother and I greatly enjoyed when we were children. The Pine Tree Apple Orchard. It seems a much a happier way to remember him, driving past some of the landmarks from our childhood, like the golf course where we would occasionally go sledding in the winter, and where he began to caddy in the summer, when he was old enough. Anyhow. I somehow managed to drag the husband along on this outing, but we skipped the apple-buying part (we prefer our apples organic) in favor of a trip to the pumpkin patch. It was a beautiful, clear day, and we certainly weren’t the only folks with the perfect pumpkin in mind. There were many of us wandering around, poking and peering at what nature had to offer. After a time we left with a few pumpkins that will make mighty fine jack-o-lanterns, when the time is right. Then we drove clear to the other side of the Twin Cities for lunch at Evergreen, followed by some more out-of-character consumerism. Now that we have the new dining room set, we needed new dinnerware and flatware, to use upon it, naturally.
Bonus: This is just sad, but not at all surprising: The Hidden Costs of Documentaries.
Plus: I’d intended to make it to this evening’s Found magazine event…but instead we’re hosting a dinner, to spend time with some folks visiting from out of town, and to make use of our newly acquired table and accoutrements.
And: I did pick up the Joan Didion book, and what I have read is, of course, very good so far, but for a little levity I also grabbed Jasper Fforde’s latest. Which I read in nearly one sitting. Doh.

I am not very good at doing, well, nothing. But it was one of the conditions I had to agree to just to get the husband out of the house and on this trip. In many ways I don’t have much to work with with this man. He can be pushed, or pulled, only so far…like trying to drag a cat on a leash. So we went away to Duluth for a few a days but it was just the basics. No frills. No scenic drives. No scenic overlooks (except for that one, at the rest stop). No scenic strolls. But still, it was good to get away. The little man was stoked to return to the “treehouses” (what he calls the Mountain Villas, and hey, I think it’s a better name for them). Nothing exceptional happened during our stay, just a series of small moments.

• When we first drove in to town I got turned around. The husband has no sense of direction and at one point I whined that he should be a better navigator. From the backseat a slightly sleepy little man scolded me. “Mom,” he said, seriously, “that’s not nice. He is not an alligator.”
• Around lunchtime on day two I started making the little man a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Standard. Midway through the process I was pulling the jelly jar out of the fridge and managed to drop it squarely on the toes of my left foot. I cried out and started doing a little dance of pain. The little man asked what was going on. The husband explained. The little man looked concerned. Then he asked, “but where is the bread?”
• One of the perks at our treehouse was a whirlpool/hot tub. Unfortunately to enjoy it properly, without causing permanent hearing loss to each occupant of said treehouse, we would all have needed heavy duty hearing protection. It was so very loud.
• We were mostly unplugged on this trip. I’d meant to bring my old laptop, to do some writing, but couldn’t locate the power cords before we left. The husband did bring his laptop, but he couldn’t locate a WiFi signal from up in the treehouse. At one point we headed down into the city again, to go to the co-op, but got a little turned around. We wound up doing a little wardriving on West Fourth Street. The husband whipped out his laptop, found a signal, and got some directions from google maps. Turns out all we needed to do was turn around and go the other direction. It might have been easier to just ask someone at the corner store.
• Our last night in Duluth the guys wanted Pizza Luce for dinner, but didn’t want to leave the treehouse to get it. So I was sent out to retrieve it. On my return drive I was treated to a view that’s hard to describe. Duluth is a hilly town with ribbons of concrete running in and out of it. I was driving into the sunset and looked up to see a railroad bridge, and on it a string of boxcars perfectly silhouetted against the darkening sky.

I wasn’t ready to leave yet, but I must say the timing of our return was pretty decent. When we pulled up to the house, our new Squeezebox was waiting for us on the front doorsteps (more on that later) before it started raining in earnest, so the box was not soaked through. And not long after we settled in a phone call informed us that our new dining room table and chairs are being delivered today. Yay us and our conspicuous consumerism! Now it’s back to work.
Bonus: I’m quite glad that I haven’t had to work this sort of customer service job a while, but Amanda had the moxie to say Suck it! to that rudeass customer, when the rest of us, we would only have been daydreaming about it.
Plus: There is something so daydreamy (in a nice way) and otherworldly about James spending his Saturday snapping off Polaroids of a southern belle dressed up as Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. I do so wish he could share the results.
And: There’s a small Duluth photoset on flickr.

Yesterday there was an article about mock meats, in general, in the Minneapolis Star Tribune…with a photo of fake shrimp at Evergreen Taiwanese Restaurant, one of our favorite veg-friendly spots about town. We’re happy any time they get press, even if it means they’re busier the next time we stop by for a meal, because we hope it helps to ensure their longer-term survival. The restaurant business is such a tricky one. Long live Evergreen!

I am a sucker for both Cameron Crowe movies and Orlando Bloom, in general, so there is no way I am not going to see Elizabethtown. But The Squid and the Whale looks interesting too. And the Sound Unseen Film Festival opens this weekend. And I still have to get round to seeing Corpse Bride and Thumbsucker. And then there’s A History of Violence. But this weekend, of course, is all about the long-awaited Wallace and Gromit full length feature film. Fun for the whole family. Yay!

Now, with the weather turning bitterly cold and properly Fall-like, I’ll somehow feel less guilty about curling up with a good book. Just finished Neil Gaiman’s latest the other night. It was a good read and very, very…Neil. But now I need something else. Suggestions?

Bonus: Lala went to Chicago and took some fabulous photos and then took polaroids of them. That only makes me love her more.
Plus: The little man was a little under the weather yesterday, so we had a stay home day. By afternoon he was feeling better, and had switched gears from his Candyland obsession. Instead it was all Tic Tac Toe Three-in-a-Row all the time. He must have gone through a ream of paper. Color construction paper. Sigh.
And: The husband is soooo bleeding edge. I saw this image on one of his monitors long before boing boing posted about it. Gawd, we’re such geeks. Good thing we’re going on vacation next week, to get away from it all. But how many laptops are we taking?