After a birthday party this weekend involving much in the way of delicious, delicious face stuffing at May’s house, I found myself wandering around the kitchen this afternoon with no laundry to do, a sink empty of dishes, and a clean floor, bathroom, even rabbit cage. My usual Sunday afternoon Family Guy sit-fest, it would seem, was on hold in favour of some golf tournament or another. Well shit. It’s not like I’ve got a ton of other channels since I refuse to pay for cable, so after passing on the thrilling options of foreign news, some shitty cowboy family drama, a CSI knockoff and some right wing debate over American drinking ages, I decided to forgo the squawk box and get some cleaning detailing done.
I’ve got one of those apartments that are old, tiny, and shoddily put together. There are nooks and crannies you just can’t get into to clean, and the appliances are ancient. The gas stove has been here since who knows when, andI guess it’s been a while since anybody thought to clean around the splashguards behind the knobs. It’s normally the kind of q-tip and bleach job that I wouldn’t bother with in a place I plan to leave behind by the end of the year, but I was bored and it was grossing me out. An hour of the Fugees later and you can see the difference.
gross on the left, better on the right
In other news, I blew my power out again. Stupid microwave-spaceheater combination gets me every time. But the last time the landlord was here, he mentioned that the lady at the laundromat downstairs has a key to the utility room underneath the building. So since the power was knocked out a few minutes before midnight, I just slept through the night and waited until morning to see if she indeed had this free pass out of an embarassing phone call. Microwave gravy over homemade poutine and enough battery power in the laptop to watch a few episodes of Family Guy kept me happy enough. I even ate by valentine-shaped chocolate scented candles.
In the morning I went down and convinced the weird old lady in this tiny dusty shop that I seriously just needed to flip the breakers back on and wasn’t trying to stash a body or something. When I got down there it seemed like I wasn’t too far off. I swear they could rent the place out by the hour to malevolent knife welding maniacs in search of a dark corner to stow a rolled up stained carpet.
"Hi, my name is Dr. Jason McKruegerMeyers. I live in a cellar with a dish of rat poison. Please come in."
But at least once I braved my way inside the technical aspects were easy to figure out – there are only four apartments, each with it’s own box clearly labelled, and a set of switches. One of mine was flipped, and so naturally I flipped it back up. Return the keys, climb back upstairs, and presto! I fixed my own power!
I also sold another pair of wrist warmers, although technically that wasn’t this weekend. I’m working on a shawl right now. I’ll have pics of that soon enough, as well as a super romantic project I’m working on for Josh for our anniversary. You’ll see that soon enough too, it’s March 11th! Holy crap, I can’t believe a year has gone by already.
Anyways, it’s taking me quite a while, but it’ll totally be worth it. In the meantime, here are some pics of the Orange Blossom wrist warmers.
oh so pretty!
cutest pair ever
That’s all for now, I have more stuff to get working on!
800 Miles 