Monthly Archives: December 2012

Dec8

Poked in the what?

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We have our tree! Bought last Sunday and left to drip water, needles and dirt on the floor for two days. Oh lawsy it was filthy! Looked great when propped sideways in the pile of lesser trees, in the pitch-black gas-station parking lot where we bought it. Not so lovely when it left smears of dirt on the door frames and walls as we dragged it inside.

After it dried off, we wanted to put the lights on first, as you do.

When it was time to do the lights, I sort of “forgot” that putting the lights on the tree is my job. Ok, I tried to pretend that I forgot. iDJ is always so happy and, um, proactive, about putting the lights in our windows. I pretty much attempted to make him think that all of the lights are his job. He copped on right away but decided he would still give it a try. Win! Sort of.

I was in the room when he started. For moral support. Because when he does anything new, he requires an audience, and everything he does must be narrated. As you do. Of course, I got to hear a few complaints/comments on how I wrapped up the lights for storage the year before (well, yah, I wrapped them up in a way that made sense to me. I do the damn lights, after all). And I had to give tips on where to start (leave a bit extra so you can poke it up into the tree-topper, don’t forget). Par for the course – I’m used to his foibles by now. And I had beer. Nothing could perturb me.

A little bit of back story now. Just to set the scene, and give you an idea of how very brave iDJ was in offering to put the lights on the tree.

For the last two years we’ve bought a short-needled tree, of a totally unknown genus, because I don’t like the long-needled pines they have here. They are too soft and droopy for all my heavy ‘Merican ornaments, and, well, I just prefer a tree with shorter needles. For me a Christmas tree is not any variety of pine. It took me five years to convince my hubby that a short-needle tree wouldn’t kill him.

You see, he has told me that about ten years ago, a tree did try to kill him. He was putting lights on a tree at his workplace and got poked by the needles. Apparently he had a very bad reaction to this. I’m a very unsympathetic person and while I remember the story, I didn’t take it seriously at all.

However, when he started to put the lights up, he only got this far:

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Yeah, it’s hard to see. It’s my only photographic evidence, however. He wrapped a tiny bit of the string of lights around the very top of the tree and then he had to stop. Immediately, and quite vocally.

Because he got poked in the dick.

Yep.

He got pricked in the prick. Lanced in the langer. Skewered in the sausage. Needled in the…well, I’ll stop with the comparisons there, I think.

Needless to say, that was the end of him putting lights on our tree that evening.

Being the unsympathetic person that I am, I said that it was no problem, I would finish the job the next day. And then I bit my lip until Oirish Tirsday when I could giggle over the story with Socks.

Socks got to laughing so hard over the idea of iDJ wussing out and running away from a tree that it became contagious and I forgot to be grumpy and realised there was indeed something funny in my life after all.

But it gets better. Socks loved this story so much that she told her hubby, Bear. Today, I got this photo in my inbox (face changed to protect the sarcastic):

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This is Bear, making fun of my hubby from 3,000 miles away. I love this man!

And yes, when putting the ornaments on the tree tonight, iDJ got poked in the dick again. Sigh.

Dec4

Whatever.

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I did take today off, and did not let my work know that my hospital appointment was cancelled. I slept in until the lazy-ass hour of 9:30, drank coffee until my smokes ran out, and then walked into town, even though hubby left me the car and biked to work. I’ve not had a walk into town by myself in months, and I’ve missed it. Used to go nearly every day with the dog…

So, icy rain, and a lot of it. I can deal with that. I do own a hat and boots. I bought my smokes and had a chat with the ladies at the paper shop where my mother in law works, and then met her, herself, on the street and had another chat. Then I bought popcorn, and my addiction: Snyder’s of Hanover Buffalo Wing Pretzel Bites. I’m drooling just typing that. American snacks are rare here, and plain pretzels are considered rather disgusting. But the Snyder’s ones have managed to stick around for at least a year. Cost €2 a small bag, too. They are a real day-off treat.

Had another long talk with a good friend at his workplace on the main street, and got home in time to put up most of the tree lights before hubby got home for lunch. After he went back to work, I finished the tree lights (but nothing else) and turned on the TV for 2002 reruns of CSI (great to nap to) and curled up on the couch with not only both cats, as usual, but the dog, too.

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Neko irritates the shit out of me, because if I ask her to come up on the couch, she runs and hides. But if I get my blankets sorted out and act like I’m going to lie down for a bit, she invites herself up. I do not get this behaviour. Sigh. I expect her to be happy to be invited, and obey. The couch is an invitation-only space for her. Or it’s meant to be, anyway. iDJ can ask her and she jumps right up with a smile. Did I kick her off for the presumption? No. She’s already terrified of me, why make it worse? I miss my previous dog. Not been able to talk about him here, yet.

Well. Anyway. I’m a bit sad as today is the one-year anniversary of the day I got the most hits on my blog. Not come close since, and with an hour left in my day, I’m at one of the lowest counts ever. Why do I even care, really? But I thought maybe today, as it was meant to go, might have been interesting: instead? the above. Yay for having a job again, hmmm? All I can do on a day off is be a slug. I can’t even say that I’m less stressed for having more money. I’m more stressed. Way, way, more stressed. I’m exhausted, I feel terrible all of the time, and I do nothing that is fun. If it might actually be fun, I get no joy of it.

Whatever. I have to go to bed. Got to get up and brave the icy roads in the morning.

Dec3

QuickQuiz

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Hey, do I go to work tomorrow or not? Took the day off for a medical appointment, came home to find it cancelled. I have 12 holiday days left before the end of year, which they will pay me for if unused, but I’m also about 2 months behind as there’s so much work.

Answers by comment please, I can’t seem to put up a poll!

Dec2

What I learned this week Nov 19-Dec 2

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Oh, dear. The first thing I learned was right after my last post. I learned that my husband doesn’t know how to wash a really, really, sharp knife.

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He’s lucky that at the bottom of that deep cut there’s the green scratchy bit that didn’t slice so easily. Or I would have been learning, again, about Ireland’s A&E waiting room. I also learned he never even knew he did this.

I learned that when I squeeze the old water and suds out of a bifurcated sponge, it squirts all over me, and the floor, and it is best to just retire it and get a new one. I’m thrifty, and will use it for something disgusting before I throw it out; but I’m not so thrifty I will put up with a squirting clown-flower for a dish sponge.

I just learned there was a bad car crash locally, and I might be going to another funeral soon. We were out driving about the same time, the fog was pretty bad. Hope I’m wrong about the funeral.

Speaking of cars and driving, I learned that black ice is quite possible in Ireland. And I learned my car is a deathtrap. It’s only my years of driving in Ohio snow that kept me on the road, albeit not in the direction I wanted the car to go. Warmer weather this week, new tires next weekend I hope.

I learned…no. I knew, but just confirmed, that I will never spell tire ‘tyre’ on my blog. I might have to do it at work but NO, not here. I also will not pronounce the letter Z, when spelling something out loud, as ‘zed.’ It’s a Zee, and that is that. I also will always say vy-tah-min and not vit-ah-min. I just cannot do it.

I learned that my Irish and English coworkers still know what I mean when I say zee and don’t even raise an eyebrow. Heh.

I learned that the socks that tried to kill me are about the warmest damn socks ever, and I love them.

I learned that after all the years I’ve done it, I still expect my animals to be freaked out when we bring in the Christmas tree. I’m either really good at having/training indoor pets, or I somehow picked ones that are entirely laid-back and mellow. We brought in a tree seven feet tall, nearly five foot wide at the base, stinking of tree and all the places a tree could possibly have been and of all the animals that could have possibly peed on it, or lived in it, not to mention the parking lot and van we shoved it into. And they ignored it entirely. All of them. Even the cat that never sees or smells a tree until we drag one into the house once a year. Not learned much here about them, just about me wondering why they are such good ‘kids.’