Ah, the power of Cheese

Remember this post? Well, it seems that not only am I capitvated by spoons, but I’m also fascinated by cheese, as many of my friends can attest. I’m in the final packing process, and I went through my kitchen cabinets this morning, then moved onto my freezer. In my freezer I found 5 pounds of frozen shredded cheese.

Never know when you just might want to make lasagna, you know?

Five pounds. I used to be like this with butter, too, every time I went to the store I’d pick up more because I couldn’t remember if I had any or not, so at some point I had about four or five boxes of butter sticks.

Green House Project

This week, while listening to NPR while I was getting ready for work in the mornings, there was a story about a Nursing Care facility in Tupelo, MS. This Elder Care facility, as they call it, is unlike any other in the United States. They call it the Green House project; their mission is to protect, sustain and nurture.

It amazes me, sometimes, how the smallest thing can make such a HUGE difference in people’s lives.

This is the most amazing story I’ve ever heard on NPR. And I mean it. Take a look at the NPR coverage, but really, you MUST take a look at the Green House Project’s website.

Read the legend of the Shabaz.

My dad’s mom lives in a nursing home in Wilmington, DE. And although I love my grandmother, it breaks my heart to visit her because she doesn’t remember me and she looks so sad. It’s not that she’s not well taken care of, they do an excellent job of making her life more comfortable. I don’t think she would be a good candidate for the Green House, because she cannot walk unassisted and she’s lost her grip on our reality, but it does my heart good to think there are other places that are less sad and forlorn for our elders to live.

The Happy List

Things that have made me happy so far this week:

*I got to see Erica and Ray and Cheryl and Mac for breakfast on Sunday. It was nice.
*Lee came back, and we spent the day together on Sunday. That was the absolute highlight of my entire WEEK.
*My broken ceiling (from the home inspection for my personal circle of hell) was repaired. Yay for Mr. Fixit!
*I went to my mama’s tonight and baby Lucy actually came OUT. That’s a big step at the cat ranch.
*I found out my friend Pam will be working with me again. Mucho happy-o am I.
*I went to McDonalds and had apple dippers yesterday.
*I will be going to Boca Raton for work for a couple of days in July.
*I’m buying a new “big-girl” (not from goodwill) couch for my spectacular new house.
*I went to dinner last night with my neighbor Kathy, the only one with whom I speak.
*The buyers have asked me NOT to paint the red room. That’s right, it can stay red. Whoop!

T-minus

7 days! One week! One week! I get to permanently hand over my own personal circle of hell in one week!

*Editors note: I will actually be physically LEAVING the horrible hell-like place sometime next Monday or Tuesday.*

I couldn’t have said it better

Just today I was thinking of friends of mine that are flakey, by my standards. I went to Stationery Queen’s, and she had a post with exactly what was on my mind.

I hate hearing “I miss you, we’ll get together soon, I’ll call”. I hate that. When I say it, I mean it, and I do it. If I miss you, I’ll call. If I say we’ll get together soon, I’ll make the effort.

I know friendships wax and wane. I know that. But it’s especially tough when the friendship might be more cost than reward.

Weird!

I realized a couple of days ago that not only am I a Becky, I’m selling my house to a Becky and buying a house from a Becky.

Huh. Is that bizzare?

Signs

Do you believe in signs? Just yesterday, I was thinking about a friend with whom I’ve lost touch. I was thinking about this particular person because he happened to be central to a dream I had the night before and it was disconcerting. So while driving down to Georgetown to work and see my sweetie, I saw one bumpersticker with his name as part of it (Lee University) and then a street sign with his name on it. Now, I understand the role of coincidence and me reading way into things, but that’s just odd.

Huh.

Just a piece of advice

When cheating on your fiance, it might not be a bad idea NOT to choose someone with whom you work and with whom the sister of said fiance works as well. And, why not try to stay away from apartments and houses of friends with whom the sister works, too. Becasue this particular sister is quite a nice gal, and doesn’t have a hard time finding things out.

Jesus christ, there are some stupid motherfuckers out there.

And all that from a phone call I received at 11:30pm last night. And no, it wasn’t a dream.

Becky, get your gun

So, in the 14 days I have left here at the cat ranchette, apparently I’m going out with a very big bang.

Last monday, Catherine (my sellers agent) got a phone call from the president of my homeowners association saying that the “planks in back of my house” just had to go. My house is not eligible for sale until they are removed.

*Let me give the readers that don’t know of my crazy neighbors craziness some background. When I moved in, the crazy neighbor lady came out onto her deck one day to tell me about the “spiritual bridge” that was behind my house. There are a couple planks of wood suspended up on concrete blocks behind my house, spanning a ditch. This particular ditch fills with water when it rains. So the planks form a bridge when it’s wet outside. Apparently the crazy neighbor lady and the guy that previously owned this house built this bridge together. It’s a spiritual bridge between our two houses, the wood is. Right. Crazy.*

So I call this man back, and tell him that I will move the planks with a large smile on my face, but that I didn’t put them there to begin with and my crazy neighbors may raise a ruckus if they are moved. I asked him to put in writing, to which he agreed. He also tells me that if they do raise ruckus, to call the sherriff’s department.

So Sunday, I moved the planks. While moving them, crazy neighbor lady comes out to tell me that I cannot in fact, move the planks because they belong to her. Right. So I tell crazy neighbor lady (CNL for short) that the planks that belong to her are now on my property, making them my planks. She again tells me I cannot move them, and I tell her, that in fact, yes, I can. That if she wants someone to take it up with, to call the homeowners association or I could take it up with the police. She makes like she’s going to come out and start something, to which I replied, I will call the police if she were to set foot on my lawn.

So I go inside, and like any good woman, called my daddy. While calling, I made no sense, and although my father and I don’t see eye to eye on everything, I have to give him credit for saying the following words “just tell me what you need and I’ll be over”. So daddy shows up with a circular saw and extension cord in tow, and we take care of the planks, then shove them in my trashcan and roll it around to the front of the house.

Afterwords, I called my sweetie, and tell him, still furious, about the whole incident. Jason tells me that he might begin to fear for my safety and was thinking about getting me a baseball bat. My response to that was “forget the bat, get me a shotgun!”

14 days! 14 days! I’ll be out of here in 14 days!

New House!

As promised…pictures of my new abode:

The Front:

The Back:

The Inside:

Yay for my new house!!!