My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Still Loading!


Yesterday, my mom came over so my husband and I could see The Prestige. I have to say, even if David Bowie hadn’t been in it, this was one hell of a movie. Just really, really excellent. It’s nice to see that among all the crap that’s produced these days someone can still make a movie that leaves you in suspense, that twists and turns in ways you never see coming – right to the very end. Bowie played Nickola Tesla and was, naturally, excellent as well. He really should do more acting. So, if you’re looking for a good movie, and a little escape, go see it.

Of course, there was a small price to pay, when my mother does something nice (not that she wasn’t getting anything out of it with the four solid hours with her grandchildren, unsupervised). She felt the need to wash my dishes. You may think me crazy for complaining about that but she used the sponge set aside for cleaning up nasty messes on the kitchen floor. One of those chemical-laden Mr. Cl3an things. Not exactly what you want to wash dishes with. And, because I don’t have a dishwasher, I had to wash them all over again with much hot water and soap. And the dishwashing sponge. The proper one. Plus, she’d attempted to put away the clean dishes that were in the drainer which meant that all night long I was finding things in weird places. That alone is not so terrible but the combination was, just, well, exasperating. And I felt bad about being annoyed because it was done out of niceness, which annoyed me further. Readersguide, you understand, right?

And in response to Harriet’s suggestion that we write a manual for Bad Mommies (which is actually brewing in my skull bone, so watch this space!), I asked Dusty where Bad Mommies go (BMs being those who force their children to do things they don’t want to do like brush their teeth, go to bed, wear appropriate clothing when it’s below freezing outside, eat vegetables, etc.) and whether there was a Scribbletown especially for them. Dusty said the Bad Mommies just get sent to Scribbletown to live among the bad babies. Yes, I think that would be punishment enough.

And I am always Bad Mommy when I force Dusty to brush her teeth at night. She’s getting skilled at delay tactics but one night she also showed her creativity as well. She curled up at her doorway like a hedgehog and I tapped her butt with my toe, “Come on, let’s go!” I whispered (Red was sleeping in the next room).

“I’m still loading!” Dusty replied from the floor as she slowly creeped forward. And if you knew how slowly Internet games (like from PBS Kids, etc) load on our computer, what with our podunk dial-up service, you’d have been laughing along with me. If I was an old lady, I'd call her a smart cookie.

She still had to brush her teeth.

On Saturday, Dusty and I finished the path project. Pictures (along with Halloween costumes and other bits and pieces of my life) can be found on flickr. We still have part of a retaining wall to finish but then I can add the dirt, plant the bulbs and….move on to something else. One more erasure of our previous owners stupid landscaping ideas GONE!

Y’all be sure to vote tomorrow! And, if you failed to read my short story and tell me how brilliant I am, click back. There’s still time for praise! (Though, every time I look at it, I see problems.)


3:25 p.m. ::
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