Friday, June 28, 2013

Can't Stand the Heat

The Man and I bought a window-mounted air conditioner when we lived in our first apartment, and it worked beautifully there and in our second apartment.  When we bought a house, however, not only is our unit not large enough for more than the master bedroom, but our HOA doesn't allow window units (though we've seen a few here and there, and nobody complained that we know of).  When The Man got a bonus at work, we immediately knew what we were going to get.

Fast-forward three months: it's hot outside, and we're still hot inside.  We called and got bids.  We weighed our options.  We consulted friends and family for advice.  And next week, just at the high point of the first summer heat wave, we'll be living the cool life.  For less money than we estimated (yay!) and with a company we're excited to have do the work (yay!), we're getting central air conditioning.

It's not so much that's it's hot in our house.  It's not even really that I dislike sweaty feet all summer (eew).  The biggest reason I'm excited to get air conditioning?  Now I can sleep under blankets all year.

I can't stand the heat, but I do so love blankets and quilts keeping me warm.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Alone, Finally

For the first time in eight months, my husband and I aren't expecting someone else for dinner.  It feels so weird, so incredibly empty in our house now, and yet... we're pretty okay with it.

My sister and her husband moved in with us in October, just two months after we bought our house.  We offered to let them have our two extra bedrooms so that he wouldn't have to live alone when she joined the Air Force.  My sister's husband and The Man get along well, and I was fine with the situation, so it worked out.  My sister flew off to the Wild Blue Yonder just after Thanksgiving, and we patiently awaited her return. Seven months later, she finally stopped home en route to her first overseas duty station.  After almost a month at home, she and her hubby moved the last of their belongings out of our house.  She's now overseas.

I love the fact that my chores are now my own, for me, for us, for the house, and not for other people.  I can totally get used to four small loads of laundry each week instead of eight to ten.  And the dishwasher only needs to be run bi-weekly instead of daily.  Certainly those parts of my life are easier when I only live with The Man.

On the other hand, I will miss cooking for someone who appreciates a good kielbasa, a hearty bowl of curly noodles, or spicy food.  I like cooking for The Man, don't get me wrong, but his idea of a flavor adventure involves putting cheese on typically cheese-incompatible foods (cheese and maple syrup, I think not, but apparently I'm wrong).  I will miss having someone around to feed our cats when we are out "late" or to get the mail when we're feeling lazy.  I already miss having a built-in playdate for The Man when he wants to shoot digital zombies or whatever it is the boys play on those video games.

For as challenging as it was having other people live with us, and for as treasured as many of those memories will be, The Man and I are content to be alone, finally.

(And no, we do not have extra space for anyone else to move in now.  Just for the record.)

Thursday, June 06, 2013

Strawberry Thieves

To the asshats who ate my strawberries right off the plants on my front porch, I hope you enjoyed them.  Those are the very first fruit-bearing plants I have ever grown, and those were the first berries from those plants.  I was going to eat them today or tomorrow after they were fully ripe, but you beat me to the fruit.


Monday, June 03, 2013

My Own Private Arachnophobic Hell

I have phobias.  Phobias are not simply fears.  I am afraid of dogs.  I am afraid of mustard.  I realize that both of these items are generally harmless and, when left alone, are unlikely to hurt me.  I avoid dogs when I can, but if in the presence of an otherwise tame dog, I tolerate its existence.  I have even come to enjoy a select handful of dogs, although from a distance.  Mustard... eew.  Just eew.

My biggest phobia is of spiders.  I am not just afraid and willing to tolerate them.  I am panic-attack-rendered phobic.  I don't like little plastic fake spiders at Halloween.  I don't like drawings or paintings of them.  I don't like the sensation of fingers moving gently over my skin because it reminds me of them.  If I see a spider, no matter how innocuous, chilling on the wall across the room from me, there aren't enough tranquilizers in the world to calm me down.  If there is one near me, oh HELL no.  To lighten a common phrase, "bat crap crazy" doesn't come close to my outbursts (generally a form of "killitkillitkillitKillitKILLIT!").

Last weekend, an exterminator was in our neighborhood going door-to-door.  Our neighbors had inquired about extermination due to the number of pests they've had in their house, and the exterminator stopped by our house to tell us all about his "great deal" on spraying our property.  Pish posh, I normally say to traveling salesmen (not really, I usually just close the door), but this guy offered a free home inspection with no obligation.  He went under our house, walked all around outside, and even checked in my pantry.  Though we'd had some ants in there a few weeks ago, some traps had taken care of the problem quickly.  After the inspection, The Man and I learned that no only do our neighbors host a small hobo spider infestation, but we have a comb-footed spider problem under our house (they are relatives of the black widow spider).  We also had wasp nests in our eaves, which we knew about and had sprayed, and ants, which we also knew about, and lots and lots of beetles. *shudder

Not so pish posh now, is he?  We signed right up.  Spray the crap out of our house.  Poison the insect world into oblivion.  I don't care what it takes, kill them all.

But it gets better!  Now that we've had our house sprayed, the creepycrawlies are not happy in their current homes.  They are now migrating inside our house to get away from the geranium oil (or whatever "natural" pesticides were used) and are hoping to cohabitate with furry kitties and terrified humans.  Well, petrified human and mildly annoyed human (although I think he's more annoyed at me than he is with the bugs).  The pest people--who are not pests themselves--tell us the invasion could last a month.

Sleep takes forever to come as I am constantly on guard watching the walls and floors and sheets and OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THAT BY THE BED!? Lint.  Just lint.  Calm down.  Go back to sleep.

I am now living in my very own arachnophobic hell.