Any Minute Now

Inspirational song: Got the Time (Joe Jackson)

Let's knock this out quickly. I have an unopened bottle of fresh NyQuil sitting in my lap, waiting for the signal. My sinuses are only barely involved in whatever this crud is, but the sore throat, deep chest cough, and crackle in my breathing are quite enough to warrant it, thank you. If I post and then immediately take the NyQuil, I should be sound asleep right after the SNL opening monolog.

Today was productive. Family came over, and while grandpa entertained big kids, daughter, Avery, and I walked a few more blocks for the GOTV. I have fewer than 45 addresses left. I wish I had finished a week ago, but life kept getting in the way.

We kept the kids until their daddy was off work. It's the first time back into the groove, and we are rusty. (Read that with an over-dramatic sitcom delivery.) I am covered in baby spitup. The house isn't too torn up, other than the dumped out Chex mix on my bed. If I'm lucky a dog will have already cleaned that up. After holding ephemeral Avery, picking up Dmitri is like deadlifting a 55-gallon barrel of crude oil. Our man is solid. In a few weeks, juggling all three will be child's play (pun intended), but for now it is a challenge.

Oh, Right

Inspirational song: I'm Just Ken (Barbie)

Aw, man. I was already in bed, lights out, with noise going on YouTube to put me to sleep. Then I remembered I didn't blog. I almost shrugged it off, but I can offer up something quick.

I thought my plans were derailed first thing, when I woke up with a sore throat. I tried to convince myself that I'd just rolled onto my back in my sleep and breathed through my mouth or something. I gave myself time to have a coffee and cinnamon roll, thinking it would calm my throat so I could help out a friend. They needed help doing a major clean out of their house, and it's to the point where my set of skills would be clutch. I went ahead and drove over, gloved up and wore a mask for dust, and got to work. I think I made a dent. I didn't quite make it two hours, and then came home.

I could have pretended that the sore throat was still just environmental, like irritated by dust. But once I was shivering under a blanket and sleeping so hard that it felt like I had been out for hours when it was more like 20 minutes (between barking fits from the dogs), I admitted it was probably more. I keep trying to look at the back of my mouth and it doesn't look swollen or red. But it feels like I swallowed broken glass. Dunno whether it will be more tomorrow.

Better Than Candles

Inspirational song: The Ballad of the Witches Road (Seo Moon Tak)

I can't remember whether I used that song recently, after last week's episode of Agatha All Along. Doesn't matter, I suppose. We started it over again, so we are all watching at the same time. I wanted to see this week's episode, but we only made it to number three before Mr S-P had his chin resting on his chest, softly snoring between me and Housemate 2 on the couch. This is such a good lead-up-to-Halloween series. I'm really enjoying it.

The first thing I heard this morning after the sound of barking, which is so frequent it no longer counts, was the rustling of plastic. I didn't know what they were up to, but I wanted to get a few more minutes of sleep in before I got up, so I let it go. Then the barking got crazy loud, so I had to get up and chastise the dogs. That's when I saw the sign taped to the wall and what was probably an inflatable cake, draped over my lamp. There was a card, signed by the whole crew, which made me feel incredibly special. I don't need things for my birthday. Just a little bit of attention so I know that my presence is appreciated. This did that, all right.

I helped pick Valerie up from school, and ended up keeping the crew the rest of the evening. We made cinnamon rolls, this time with a light touch of orange extract in the frosting, and by the time we were all done with dinner out, we were too full to even sample them. We went to the Roost, the restaurant I suggest first every time we go out, and we never end up going there. I was so glad when my daughter redirected us there. I missed it. They have such a wide variety of gluten-free options that I never feel disappointed in any way. As we always do there, we way overdid it on appetizers (but they are so good), that everyone took home leftovers.

We went to Ziggis for my birthday coffee. While we were in line, both kids were asking for cake pops when they saw them on the menu board. Although most of Dmitri's words have that two-year-old blur to them, those words were easily recognizable. Valerie asked me how old I was, and I told her. Her mother asked if she could count that high. She did, no problem! We were so impressed, we added those cake pops in after all, once we got up to the window.

So many really cute kid things happened today that I forgot most of them by the time I started writing. The counting thing was awesome. Dmitri was such a scamp, doing a half dozen things I said I should include, but so help me, I have no idea what. He was pretty funny at King Soopers, when we went to pick up a prescription. One of the kids did something so cool that my daughter said it was a great birthday gift, better than candles. It was true. But what was it?

Costume

Inspirational song: Whatever Gets You Through the Night (John Lennon)

This year's Halloween costume debuted tonight. I dressed up for the Rotary party as a goth skater chick, and it was fun. I'm really glad I don't dress like this every day, but it was neat to see a different side of me. I really hammed it up when I could, when people were taking pictures or when we were showing our costumes for the contest at the party. But as soon as that was done, I stopped being goth or emo or whatever this outfit called for and just acted like me.

With my housemate's advice and assistance, I put together a layered look. Black long-sleeved undershirt, ratty, faded black tour t-shirt over it. Jean shorts, purple tights, black leather clunky boots. Plaid shirt tied around my waist. Three silver necklaces with goth styling. Four hematite rings and black nail polish. Fake nose ring. Purple beanie. And makeup. So. Much. Makeup. 

I watched a YouTube tutorial on how to apply the makeup, and did my best. How I'm going to get it all off again, I have no idea. I tried scrubbing the liquid eye liner off my hand, where I accidentally globbed it. Regular hand soap failed, as did my face wash. I tried a dry paper towel, hoping friction would do it. Some of it is still there. I can't do this to my eyes. I have to research more gentle methods. I used black eyeliner pencil for my brows, and during D&D tonight, I tried removing it with a baby wipe. I had marginal success. Am I going to have raccoon eyes all the way into Thanksgiving? Time will tell.

The Backstory

Inspirational song: Bad Moon Rising (Creedence Clearwater Revival)

To drive up attendance at the Rotary Halloween party, two clever members rewrote a verse to Bad Moon Rising, and performed it in front of the meeting today, complete with ukulele accompaniment. It was cute and those of us of a certain age and demographic enjoyed singing along. I tried very hard to tamp down the feeling of inescapable dread that this song occasionally inspires in me, and take it as the bouncy tune it is on the surface. I promised the person I usually sit next to that I'd tell the backstory, so let's see what memories I dredge up.

In high school, I used to sleep with my radio playing all night. I still like having noise going when I sleep, in the form of music, audio books, or news. Back then it was the rock station out of Oklahoma City that lulled me to sleep. One autumn night, I woke up a second before the first chord strummed to Bad Moon Rising. I was filled with a sudden joy that came out of nowhere, briefly wide awake in the pre-dawn hours. I fell back asleep when the song ended. I woke later that morning with an ear infection, hurting deep inside my ear canal. I dragged myself the two blocks around the corner to where we practiced marching band, at the field next to the middle school. My friends alerted me that my cat had been either hit by a car, or something more nefarious that is for another story, in the street between my house and the school. I saw him, lying still on the edge of the street, blood congealed in the same spot on his head as where my ear infection was hurting me. Needless to say I was an emotional wreck for the rest of the day, after calling my stepdad and asking him to come retrieve Noa's body. I did the math in my head, and remain convinced to this day that he was killed at the very moment that song woke me.

This was not the only strange event I associated with that song. Twice more it involved cats, another one dying a mere week after the first, and then a few months later, my friend showing up at D&D with a found kitten, who was immediately adopted by my cousin (the game was at his apartment anyway). I know there were other spooky coincidences, but none stuck in my mind as thoroughly as the cat episodes. The first time it happened was almost 40 years ago, and I can remember as clearly as if I were still there, on a humid autumn night, next to an open window. I can smell the warm wood smell of the house. I can feel the firm mattress and the carvings of the bedframe. I can hear the tiny speakers of the clock radio that was always on. I can see my beloved tuxie cat lying in the street, in the gray, foggy light of that next morning. I've had more than a dozen cats come and go in my life since Noa, but I will never forget. 

I don't think I have any surviving pictures of him. He was a handsome, handsome boy. What I do have is a picture of a lovely young lady who was not feeling well at all today. I picked her up from school, and her teacher told me she had a cough and a runny nose. That wasn't the half of it. We needed to do a quick Walmart trip on the way home, and she voluntarily lay in the shopping cart, and curled up and slept while I grabbed the few things I needed. She was pale and her coughing and massive booger nose were pitiful. When we got home, I set her up on my couch, with fresh fuzzy blankets, Disney+ on the iPad, lemonade with added honey, and microwavable mac and cheese. I wonder if this unlocks a new core memory, getting pampered at grandma's house when she feels yucky.

I Wish This Was My Picture

Inspirational song: Rock Around the Clock (Bill Haley & His Comets)

I was invited to go view the comet currently visible in the western sky, and I just couldn't convince myself to get up and go. By the time night had rolled around, my units of "get things done" were completely depleted, and even walking to the door was beyond me. Pity, that. My housemate was the one who invited me, and they have good equipment for star-gazing. They only brought fancy binoculars this time, and that was enough to see the nucleus of the comet and detail in the tail. They took a three-second exposure photo over the pond at the park where they went, and it was an insanely beautiful shot. I said if it had been my picture, that would have been plastered all over social media by now. So, with their generous permission, I will put it here. 

I didn't end up submitting my ballot today. I wasn't sure whether it was still considered a bank holiday today, as this particular holiday is controversial. (Personally, I fall into the group who prefer the newer "Indigenous People's Day" version, but that is neither here nor there to my point.) I assumed that the county offices would be closed, and as my entire motivation for handing in my ballot in person is to get that sweet, sweet sticker, I elected to wait one more day (pun intended.)

I have overbooked myself for this week, and I've started culling projects already. I had a few food and drink items planned to prepare for game night, and I'm going to simplify there. I am keeping my costume for the Rotary Halloween party to mostly items I already have on hand, both to save money and because I want it to be easy. I'm just trying to make it to next Monday without overload, at this point. I don't have a snowball's chance in outer space of achieving that, but here we are.

 

So That They Leave Me Alone

Inspirational song: Shambala (Three Dog Night)

October is taking its time becoming, well, October. Saw our favorite weatherman Chris Bianchi (Crispy Donkey) refer to it as "Scorchtober" today. Finally there are cooler days in the forecast. Not necessarily tomorrow, but in the long-range, and that's enough to give me hope. The overnight low tonight is supposed to barely kiss the 30s, but make it to second base with them in a week. I need to bring the last of the plants in this week, assuming I can make the last adjustments so they have places to overwinter. 

The one thing I am not ready to do is turn on the heat. We came in to watch a Marvel movie and the most recent episode of Agatha All Along, and the bedroom was chilly. A couple of hours later, with two each of adult humans, giant dogs, and cuddly cats, and this room is broiling again. I'm not interested in heating it further. I actually considered turning the ceiling fan off this evening, before the room heated up. What was I thinking. That thing will stay on until January, at least.

I didn't walk the next section of my neighborhood today after all. Instead, the only GOTV effort I made was my own. I did the last of the research on judge retention, which was thankfully detailed in the blue book the state sends out, and the few amendments and ballot initiatives that I hadn't fully considered until today. I filled out my ballot, and I am comfortable with the choices I made. I feel a little hypocritical, because I didn't exactly consult the voter guide I'm papering my neighbors' homes with, although I probably came to most of the same conclusions my compatriots did. I'm going to return my ballot inside the county offices tomorrow, instead of using the drop box next to the DMV, in hopes of getting the sticker. That's why I always waited until actual election day before. But they say turning in your ballot early stops the texts and emails, and I'm willing to trade a sticker for some peace any day.