Monday, September 04, 2006

Quaaaaack!


Ah, sheesh, it's raining again. I had some stuff I wanted to do outside today, but it looks like it's going to have to wait.

(And once again, no picture capability. Damned Blogger. Ugh! EDITED to say NEVER MIND. I beat the Blogger gremlins and just did the tags & link and added the darned photo link manually. Ugh!)

It's only shortly after noon and it's already been "one of those days" in some respects. When the huzzzzz-bun's away, I clean. Crazy, I know. I don't attempt to explain it. I just do it. So, first thing this morning, I decided the curtains in my den would look nice freshly laundered. All the windows in this house are great behemoths. No mere mortal can reach the top of them from the floor. Thus, when one wants to take down curtains, one must fetch a ladder. This necessitated a trip to the basement.

I had temporarily forgotten that I was up 'til 2:30 this morning finishing that book I started yesterday. It scared the bejesus out of me and, yes, it involved a very nasty cellar. And I don't just mean it needed cleaning. I should know better than to read that kind of stuff when I'm home alone. I'm a grown woman, though. Fearless, she who takes on strangers when they do idiotic crap. I took a deep breath, shot the bolt back on the cellar door (and made the dog sit in the doorway), and marched confidently down the stairs. Whew! No monsters, no escaped psychos, no problema. Back in the den, I shimmy up the ladder, pull the curtains off the rod and let them fall to the floor (without falling off the top rung), and start back down. Alas, I stepped down off the second rung instead of the first, which resulted in my shinbone smacking solidly into the coffee table. Goodie, goodie -- another war injury. Thankfully, tackling the other window didn't involve the ladder; I stand on the back of the couch to reach that one.

By the time the washer was doing its thing, I was hungry, so I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and ate it in the den as I read the paper. When I finished, I put the bowl down on the wide couch arm, intending to leave it for only a second while I picked something up. I picked it up, but then swung my arm around to put it somewhere else, totally forgetting the bowl was sitting there. Down it went, about half full of milk, and landed on the dog. What a fumduck thing to do! The poor little thing jumps up, dripping milk, licking her lips and wagging her tail. Of course, I had to scoop her up and rush her to the kitchen and hose her down in the sink.

It's only 12:30 and I still have to do the ladder again once the curtains are dry. And did I mention it's raining again?

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I don't do ladders. I am 6'4 and I figre that is tall enough. Don't do basements either. Good thing I live in Flordia where there are none.

Even though it is a holiday, it is still a Monday and it appears yours has been one. It can only get better. Besides, you coined a new term!
"fumduck"

I like it!

Serena said...

At that height, you probably never need a ladder. Dang, you're a whole foot taller than I am. Yep, alas, Mondays are still Mondays, regardless. Glad you got a kick out of my word. LOL.

Serena said...

No, I'm far, far from Germany. I do think there ought to be a law -- no rain on holidays!

Serena said...

Ha! I have an inch on you, Lesia. LOL. Tall men are handy to have around, no doubt about it.

Luckily, I've never fallen off a ladder. (I don't talk about the time I did an impromptu acrobatic act off the back of the couch. That smarted a bit.) Your friend's foot injuries sound horribly painful. I'll definitely be more careful -- and teach the dog how to dial 911.

Good Lord, the Verification word sounds like blackenwarts.