High Noon

So as you may have noticed I will be on a certain theme for a bit. Hubby is driving me insane. I love the man to death but I may have to hurt him. He found through his researching the net a book on Solar Heating. This thing has everything; walls, chimney's and rooms. He starts reading it to me. As his words float over my head all I'm thinking is 'I'm in Solar Hell.'

Hubby's mind is amazing. He can see these things in his head, while I on the other hand can only envision up to the last six inches. And Artist is not throwing me a life line here. She's right into this and Hubby loves it. We have another set of friends, I shall refer to as Leo and Aquarian. Both are the stereotypical of their Solar Signs. Leo loves to play and she rarely holds a grudge. She is into the solar thing too, while her partner, Aquarian is on my side of the fence. She and I agree, whilst this is a good thing, we are a little nervous of the outcome.

I'm referring to Hubby and I as Eco-geeks now. I'm on a rampage of removing plastics from the house and using alternative solutions to chemical cleaners. Hubby is coming up with ways to reduce our household emissions and incorporate both wind and solar. Of course then there is the garden we are planning. I'm calling it my Victory Garden. It will be a victory if I get a bean or a tomato from the damn thing.

Oh look the sun is out. A shining orb in the sky to remind me of the hell, it's rays will emit upon my household. God I miss the fishpond.

On the Road to Solar Hell

I love my Hubby, and I don't think any would argue that our marriage is a good. We work hard at it and keep the channels of communication open. Yes indeed I love my husband. Now that the issue of organic seeds has been resolved, I now find myself in a totally different argument. And its not that I even disagree with what he is doing, its the visions that haunt me.

I have discussed on previous posts the cursed DNA that Hubby is inflicted with, which is the getting the last six inches done. I am still waiting for the floor thingy that holds the floor down to be placed, the bathroom to be finished, the front entryway finished, I know I am missing a few things but the point is made. Yes I agree that I could do some of these things myself, but that is not the point. The point of it is that no matter what my Hubby tackles, its never finished.

Now Hubby wants to build a Solar Water Heater, with the idea and mind it will take the heat (pun intended) off our bills. He is toying with the idea wind mills on the peak of the roof. (I envision little headless birds laying around our yard.) I agree this is a good plan of action and I am trying not to be freaked out about the cost of things.

What I am freaking out about, is the fact with all the projects on the go, it will yet be another thing that will remain undone. I will be honest and say that I am envisioning a bulky mechanical thing with tubes and piping running all over the house, holes cut every where and outside walls torn apart.

I have tried the "you must finish everything off first before starting on the Solar Project." Have you ever tried to stop a stampeding bull with a mission? I haven't but I think I'm about to be embroiled in the battle. Stubborn and Obstinate are not the adjectives to use here. Its more like tunnel vision and the world outside is cast away.

Hubby grew up in a house like it and it never bothered him. Why would it, he is the one not doing the cleaning so its not important to him. I grew up in a house without baseboards. For some odd reason no matter the house we lived in (and it was alot. I was a pulp mill brat moving on average of every four years) my father removed the baseboards and never put them on until they were selling the house. Its one of those male things but now that I live with it, I want to take a cattle prod and a whip and beat out my frustrations on the man.

So Hubby sits night after night planning and researching his project. On his days off he is restless and anxious to get started. I would like him to use that energy on the house at present but I get hit with "We don't have the money." Yet he has the money to go by a solar panel. Now I'm ripping my hair out.

Deep breath...gulps of coffee...where's my damn lighter...Okay, I'm fine now. So as you can tell I'm getting more and more stressed out about this. Hopefully you can see the bind I'm in. Like I said for the title, I'm on the road to Solar Hell, and can't find the turn off.

Life is about to get interesting.

One of those days

It was a great morning until I looked outside and saw the blanket of white coating everything. Not enough to be called a snowfall but just enough the dogs are able to get their paws nice and muddy to track through the house. Of course the Chihuahua sees white and runs the other way.

I'm having a bad day with the joints. Everything decided to complain the second I got up. It wouldn't have been so bad except the head is pinging just to add more fun. I probably shouldn't have gone out in the cold wind yesterday. The ever changing pressure is a little hard for the head to handle. One minute sun, the next is snow and rain. All I want is serious fish pond time this summer and if all of this up and down weather leads to fish pond days, I'll grin and bear it.

Hubby was at a info meeting for a product his store sells. It happened to be for ponds. Hubby was telling the sales rep how I at first didn't want the pond and proceeded to live by it for the entire summer. Hubby said if he has a stressful day, he heads straight for the pond during the summer to sit and relax. The Sales Rep started to laugh and say that he and his wife were the same with theirs. Kind of nice to know that we aren't the only ones daffy about our pond. I think the best thing about it is, I can truly relax or get totally absorbed in my writing without worrying if the Beagle wanders off I won't need to clean up the wake of his destruction.

I do have some news to share, my novella that I wrote, was released yesterday. Its a sweet story so everybody can read it. (Apparently I still need to work on my blogging techniques as I was hoping the picture would appear right about ...Here.) Its dedicated to my parents whose love story is pretty remarkable except the dedication didn't get printed with the book cause I normally add that during the editing process. Now I know to add it at the beginning. Hey its a learning process.

The coolest thing happened with this cover art. I was showing it to a friend at my mom's. She in turn was showing it to her mother-in-law who was there as well. My mom was telling her that I wrote in erot... then turned and asked the category that I wrote in. She couldn't remember the word, but as soon as I said, erotica, she said, that's right, as if I had said mystery. She was so cute. I just want her with me when the first book deal comes along. It would be really cool to share that with her. Of course, if leads to a book signing outside a sex shop, I'll take Artist with me. My mother would come up with too many outlandish schemes. Thrusting Thighs was one of her suggestions as a character for a novel. Trust me, with my mother's imagination, it gets a whole lot worse. At least now, I know where I get it from.

I can feel the sneaking up of the sub-conscious telling me to get the synopsis done for the hopefully above to happen. I'll confess, I'm procrastinating. avoiding it and coming up with what ever else to do before facing it. But its hanging over my head like a cloud. Its in my thoughts as to how I'm going to tell a story without telling the story. But I should get it done. Hubby has been gently nagging at me to finish it. He's right, then I can get to the others that are rolling in my head. I know that if I get the ideas down the stories will formulate themselves. But a synopsis is different, its taking three hundred pages and condensing it down to five or six. Of course I wasn't smart and kept my outlining notes. The next one I will. Hopefully it will make the task easier.

Damn! My coffee cup is empty. Guess this means I'd better fill it. Sigh, but at least the dishes that need doing will give me ten more minutes of procrastination.

Kitchen Fever

I had visions of getting up Easter morning, making coffee, frying the bacon for the Hot Cross buns I made last night. Having breakfast in bed with the dogs lazying around us and the sun streaming through our windows. Put a bubble around that and prick it with a pin. I won't get into the gory details but its sufficient to say that the above fuzzy warm vision from my mind did not happen.

Instead it has been a battle of wills with the canine creatures of this household. I have made a discovery this morning that Beagles are the equivalent of a Canine Donkey. They both bray, both are stubborn and both can be led by a carrot.

Mind you I will say one thing about the Beagle, at least he avoids the muck and mire in the backyard. He hates getting his paws muddy. The Airedale and the CorgieX on the other hand I swear seek them out then run through the mud at least five times ensuring the muck will be tracked in. I could grow a garden with what gets tracked in. Have you met Bleach? Its my new best friend. My mop is threatening to go on strike with the overtime its been putting in. I don't dare put the laundry out until things have dried up. I envision my greyish white sheets with mud splatters from the dogs galloping by.

I was looking around my kitchen as I was kneading the dough last night and a memory came from a deep recess of my mind. I had to have been very little because my Grandmother who was a very tiny woman, (she weight 98lbs when she married my grandfather and was four feet eleven inches in height) seemed so big to me. She was baking something and pulled up a chair for me to help her. She opened a drawer and there was a rolling pin just my size. The kitchen was long and narrow with huge cupboards. Sometimes when I'm baking bread (its always bread for some reason) I can sense her. I realised last night that everything I want to do to the kitchen if very reminiscent of that kitchen from her house.

In the middle of the summers here I love to walk into my mother's kitchen early in the morning. It smells like my Nona's kitchen and there was always aromatic smells wafting from the windows. But its a certain combination of the scent of coffee, the promise of the heat in the cool of the morning and a linger of something baked. It was a homey smell. I think because we moved so much, my Nona's house was a rock. She was always there. At Easter time she would send up Scallili, (Sp?) a deep fried Italian cookie dripping in Honey. I used to look so forward to it. In someways it was so much more anticipated than the chocolate.

No wonder my kitchen is so important to me. Its like my zen room. I can pound out frustrations on the bread, contemplate the meaning of life as I'm washing dishes or reminisce as I'm stirring a sauce. With everything Hubby is planning, I'm now nagging that we arrange the room so it will be a practical room. Right now, everything is haphazard as it was all just a temporary solution. The purple cupboard is getting to me now along with the too high green counter with no space, and the one that isn't anchored down cause it was supposed to be makeshift. I'm really sick of makeshift after 10 years.

Its just cabin fever ranting combined with an itch to clean out everything but can't until the ground has dried out. Or it could be that Hubby never seems to work anymore. This week alone he has had four days off. I finally asked him if he still had a job or was this the company's polite way of letting him go. He says he still has a job.

Well the coffee cup is empty and that cannot happen in this house. A full cup of coffee is necessary for the creative energies to flow...Why do I hear Artist laughing at me inside my head...Okay... how about I'm a caffeine addict that can't be more than four feet away from the coffee pot or things get really ugly around here? Yup, that got rid of the voice from down the street cackling at me. My daughter informed me that Artist and I cackle. I told her to remember who cackles and not to mess with us lest I pull out my wand.

Remember, girls giggle, women can't be bothered, we outright laugh.

Happy Easter Everyone.