September 25th, 2006

Typing

(no subject)

So, another weekend at the farm, workin' m'tail off. Got everything off the patio and stored it away for the season. Checked on the wine (making another batch of mango). Installed some new stuff in the bathroom, built shelves, trimmed ivy, handled the chickens...sheesh. Hurt my little finger, too, but that's just annoying more than anything else.

This morning, I get to go to the hospital and hang out with Ray for his physical therapy. I guess they want me there to learn how best to pick him up/help him around, etc., seeing as that's about to be my job (*insert sad little fanfare here*). On that subject, incidentally, I've got a car again. Nothing cool or amazing, an '87 Chevy Celebrity, but it runs fabulous, looks incredible, and it's got a huge trunk (room enough for the wheelchair) and plenty of room to load Ray in and out of it. Should be good on gas, too.

Whee. Just not feelin' it this morning, you know? Ah well, it'll pass. Gotta go get dressed...y'all be good.
Typing

(no subject)

...And we're back. The hospital taught me how to do the transfers from the wheelchair to bed/tub/car, which isn't a big deal. I'll go back in a couple days to get familiar with Ray's exercises, so I can make sure he keeps doing them, etc. Yeah, nothing big, just gotta do it.

Now, gotta get some laundry and dishes done. Isn't my life fascinating? Doncha wish you were me, right about now? Didn't think so.
Typing

(no subject)

Even though I have stuff to do, I went and crawled into bed for a bit. Just an hour, I told myself.

An hour and a half later, I'm awake...and I'm no less tired than I was. Man, this sucks.
Frank The Bunny (Countdown)

I Know, I'm A Dick

With everyone telling me I'm a good person for the things I'm doing for the family, I thought I should share this little moment tonight to prove that, yes, underneath it all, I'm still a bad person.

So, swanwhite made dinner tonight, because I was out of it. Garlicky chicken stir-fry with spaetzle and a salad, bread and butter on the side, as well as olives. Dinner went just fine, and afterwards she was eating some olives, and somehow, the idea of putting one up her nose and trying to launch it came to light. No, don't ask, I have no idea now how it started. Anyway, I mentioned it was fine by me, as long as she didn't aim at me. Erik agreed that he did not want to be a target, and suggested that she aim at the tub of butter that was handy. She squicked out.

Now, here's the thing. While she may have no problem with eating bread and butter, she is grossed out by the idea of eating butter by itself. I don't get it, but it sure can be amusing sometimes. Anyway, I mentioned that it was an oddity to be OK with stuffing an olive up one's nose and firing the booger-and-snot laden foodstuff at a member of the family, but not with firing at an innocent dairy product. As she mentioned how much she did not like butter, I dipped a finger in it and ate a glob. She reacted, I laughed, and thought little more about it...until Erik, completely unbidden by me and with a calm expression worthy of the World Series of Poker, did the same. This caused much hilarity on my part, and a round of high-fives, as Dianna expressed her opinion of just how sick and disgusting we both were.

So, with dinner over, we broke out some cookies we'd gotten from Rose, little chocolate-covered marshmallow things. Erik went for the butter again, as Di got up form the table and performed a little hopping Dance of Disgust in reaction. She expressed her revulsion that he could do that while eating the cookie. Well, I couldn't allow an opportunity like that to go by...I grabbed the butter in one hand, my cookie in the other, and proceeded to plow a furrow in the butter. With a grin on my face that would have made the Joker proud, I popped the cookie into my mouth and devoured it with aplomb.

I knew I'd arrived at the line that did not need to be crossed, as she left the kitchen, stepped onto the back patio, and proceeded to walk away from the house. Sure, Erik and I were rolling with laughter, but I knew not to go further, or vomitus that I'd be obligated to clean up would be forthcoming. The quote of the night came not long after, as I questioned her about her repugnance towards this innocuous dinner spread, and how she could eat it on bread but be so abhorrent of it naked. Her response? "Those are two completely different things. That makes it like .. like .. evil butter!"

See? I'm not such a nice guy, sometimes.
  • Current Music
    White Zombie - Black Sunshine