I love you, you silly thing!
I love you, you silly thing!
You know how on Seinfeld, they always met up with people who were unreasonably rigid about stuff, or did things like spit on the floor inside the bus, or who couldn’t “spare a square” in the bathroom when Elaine, in the neighboring stall, found herself without toilet paper?
Well, today I had one of those experiences.
A man, standing in my dining room (he was picking up a student after tutoring), turned away from me to rub his nose. As he turned back, I noticed a small glob of snot on the back of his right hand. Then he did the unimaginable.
He reached out, with his right hand, and pinched his fingers on the edge of the quilt hanging on the wall in there.
The glob remained on the back of his hand, but WTF?!
I’ll be washing that quilt tonight, to get whatever oogies he wiped on it washed down the drain.
And it’s not like this guy is a social paralytic, either — he KNOWS what is appropriate because he plays the freaking social game constantly. But to wipe snot on an art quilt in someone’s house? Who DOES that?!
I’m in a club at the Crackhouse working on a very involved quilt.
Before July’s workshop, I made 52 arcs. One woman showed up at the workshop with 7 completed blocks. I was jealous. So I constructed one that night. Since then, I’ve constructed 3 more. It’s addictive. They have an average of 88.25 individual pieces of fabric — per block.
I think I’ll probably name this quilt “The First Step Was Admitting That I Had A Problem.” I’m having quilting dreams, and I find myself thinking about this thing almost constantly. I. Am. Such. A. Freak.
Last week, I called 911 on Monday evening.
This week, I called Poison Control.
Just after Jerry came home, Alice decided to decorate the living room sofa. With a washable blue crayon. Helen tattled on her, and we placed Alice in The Naughty Chair, which always causes MUCH crying and gnashing of teeth.
I got out the Woolite Oxy Deep Spot and Stain cleaner, and started working on the sofa. When it became evident that I was just smearing the blue crayon around, I decided to call out the big guns and get out the carpet/upholstery steamer (probably the very best impulse purchase I have ever made, I swear).
And we put Alice back in The Naughty Chair.
Filled up the water tank, turned on the heater, hooked up the tools, and put Alice back in The Naughty Chair.
Cleaned the sofa as best I could (considering I couldn’t soak the thing since I have people coming over here tomorrow evening), and then returned to the kitchen to dump the tank and clean everything so I could put it away. And we released Alice from The Naughty Chair.
She followed me back to the kitchen and apparently picked up the spray bottle of Oxy Deep that I had left on the kitchen table, and decided that the time was right for a taste test. I saw it in slow motion, as she sprayed the left side of her mouth and made a horrible face, handing the bottle over to me. I snatched it out of her hands and read the back of it.
“In case of accidental ingestion, drink several glasses of water and call a physician.”
So I got a Care Bears cup, filled it with water from the fridge, and made her drink some. She probably had about 1/4 cup of it when she decided to blow bubbles into it instead of drinking.
Called Poison Control.
Considering she just had a spritz of it and I had been able to get her to drink without incident, and she wasn’t complaining, they said that things probably were just fine. They called back at about 6pm, and will call again at 9 to make sure everything is fine.
Alice ate and drank her normal amounts at dinner and afterwards, and was her usual cuddly self until bedtime. And was VERY opposed to going to bed tonight.
Since Alice’s surgery, her diction AND her speed have improved. The diction I’m happy about, even when she’s complaining about bedtime. The speed? Not so much. But at least she smells springtime fresh.