Hey, Anna-Liza here. In one of those weird synchronistic things, Lyda and I are both in the process of moving. (As you know doubt have deduced from recent posts). I am a little ahead of her in this process, as I know where I will be living and have got all my stuff here, and she is still in the packing-and-deciding phase … not at all unusual for me to be a bit ahead of her, of course. (Just kidding, Lyda!)

(Really!)

Ahem, so my life has been all moving, all the time for the past month or so. While I have a wild and spontaneous side, I also know that I require roots. Specifically, in order to stay sane I must have my own space and know where all my stuff is, and preferably be able to find it when I want it.

This is pretty difficult to acheive in a house with another adult, two kids, and two cats, but at the moment it’s damn near impossible.

We’ve got the entire contents of our old home moved into the new home and its attendant garage (at last), but it’s almost all still in boxes, and lots of the boxes, though labelled, did not make it to the appropriate spot in the new home.

And of course, a number of the boxes were re-used for new things once they’d been emptied, but not relabelled. And some were never labelled at all. Or the labels were from the last time we moved. So it’s like an old hoarder/cat lady’s house a treasure hunt without a map around here.

And then Mr. B started throwing up last Friday. We thought it was because he’d eaten an entire bag of gummy bears, but no. He was contagious. Mr. R started throwing up in the middle of the night Sunday. And Darlin’ K is coughing and feeling pretty tired and achy, but no fever.

Witness Anna-Liza, barely sane.

So what am I doing to cope? Consciously, I’m not doing anything. My body has taken over and made me sick, too. I have a pretty bad cold, plus laryngitis. And the laryngitis is worse today than yesterday. Yesterday, I could croak audibly if absolutely necesary, but I can’t even do that today. I had to email in sick this morning! Thus this middle-of-the-work-day post. I’m trying to restrain myself from doing much physical work, but I just had to empty at least one box yesterday, and I will probably have to do that again today.

Half my brain wants to take this down time to balance the checkbook, and the other half wants to have real down time – curl up on the couch and reread The Lord of the Rings (I’m about a third of the way through The Return of the King) or maybe watch the first LOTR movie and knit. Maybe both. Maybe all three.

However, this place is starting feel a bit more like home now, even with having to thread my way through a maze of boxes. It’s larger than our old place, and even more charming, and we’re only half a block from the library now. And despite the non-self-cleaning oven (I got spoiled), the kitchen’s nicer. And it has an arched front door! I just love unusual front doors – arched, carved, set into a corner instead of flat, love love love.

See? Charming. Arched door. Love love love.

So wish me luck on the organizing/unpacking/putting away. And wish Lyda luck in choosing what she wants to do (and figuring out what she really wants to do instead of what all her friends and family are telling her to do. Except me, of course. We all know that she really wants to move to Colorado. She probably won’t make it in time for our annual Christmas Tree Hunt this year, but she might be here in time for Mr. B’s birthday!

Lyda here. Wow, yesterday’s post was a bit of a downer. Sorry about the unmitigated whining.

Today, only fun stuff! And how better to have fun than to Lick the Pig – which we haven’t done in way too long.

So, in no particular order, here’s some pig-licking:

1.)  Did you know it’s Movember? Check out this post of cool moustache-related silliness from Fashion in Motion. Check out her Fashion Faux Pas posts – we get to vote on what we like and what’s a fashion disaster. Fun!

2.) Several blogs mention that today is Button Day. Like this blog, and Button Floozies (cool name, yes?!). Who came up with this? I suspect someone just invented it one year. And who am I to quibble? Button button, whose got the button? The National Button Society, of course.

3.) My mom had a round blue tin full of buttons. I played with it as a kid, and “borrowed” buttons for my doll clothes. A few years ago when we were all together, Gorgeous and Available Engineer Brother pulled it out from a box of her stuff he’d been saving. When we pried it open (the box had rusted shut), inside was a big rhinestone belt buckle. Not a cowgirl belt buckle, but a buckle that would have been on the belt of a cocktail dress. I grabbed it and I have it where it reminds me of my mom and her glamorous and fun style every time I look at it.

And now I’m out of time, so today’s pig licking is done.

More soon.

Really.

Lyda here. I’ve been doing a bit of catching up on my blog reading (though obviously not my blog writing). As a way to escape the uncertainty of my life. Where the hell am I moving? What’s it going to be living away from my son? On my 50th birthday, what state will I be living in? And what will be the state of my mind? And will the state of my finances ever be better? 

And of course, as a way to escape the sorting and packing.

I just read Laurie’s post about her Procrasticleaning. I feel like I’m doing Procrasti-purging – getting rid of stuff as a way of avoiding making decisions about my life. The cleaning will come later, because no matter how upset I am about my situation and the way my landlord is handling all this, I am too proud to leave the place a mess. In that post, Laurie also talks about wanting to look into other people’s spaces as a window into their life. I totally do that too. So often she writes stuff like this and it sounds like it is coming out of my head. But a lot funnier, and with more cat-hair references. But I digress.

Right now, I’m purging. I’m going through everything I own. Every book, every knicknack, every stick of furniture. I’m getting rid of things, moving boxes of books and piles of stuff into the “sell” section of the garage. Which is taking over the garage, and soon will threaten the entire world.

I’m only keeping what I love and cherish, what I need, and what will fit in one bedroom. Because at this point, I may end up in a friend’s spare room for a while and I’m so grateful that I won’t be sleeping in my car which I was afraid would happen.  

So – I’m keeping my bed, my TV, and my Terry Prachett books. My sewing machine, fabric, yarn, and computer are non-negotable keepers. Pretty much everything else is being evaluated. Do I like it enough to move it? Is it useful? Is it small enough to fit it in one room with the bed?

If I were moving straight into another apartment, I would probably take everything. But I don’t know if I am going into an apartment, or my friend’s bedroom, or moving out of state. The not-knowing is driving me nuts, even though it is my own doing – just make a decision already!

But I’m choosing to use this as an opportunity to purge with a capital P. How many vases does one woman need? A woman who does not often get flowers from admirers and by “often” I mean “never”? Not a zillion, that’s for sure. I only get flowers when I buy them for myself, and because of the four-footed demons I live with and also my finances, I haven’t bought myself flowers in a very very long time. I used to get myself daises – they are cheerful and inexpensive and they last a long time. Perhaps I will do that again after I move.

The other day I was upstairs doing something at work – probably filing, I have such a glamorous job – and when I came back to my desk there was a vase of lovely flowers and also three helium balloons. One of the balloons said “Happy Anniversary!” I was very surprised and also rediculously pleased because I just recently had my one-year anniversary at work, and I thought one of my bosses had sent me flowers.

But there wasn’t a card, and I was puzzled by that and I kind of knew they weren’t for me. I moved the vase – which was blocking my work space - and got back to work. And about 15 minutes later, one of my coworkers came into my office and picked up  the vase and asked why I had moved her flowers and “did you think someone had sent you anniversary flowers?”

Oh, I don’t know. They were sitting on MY desk.

She had put them there for some reason she did not explain – because my desk is just a waystation for random items that people need to set down for a few minutes? – and then come back to collect them as she left the building for the day. At 2 p.m., but who am I to notice such things?

It was stupid, but it hurt that she was so dismissive of the possibility that I could receive anniversary flowers. I could have had a torrid but brief love affair with a man romantic enough to send me flowers every year on the day we had met. It could have been the anniversary date of my Pulitzer Prize. It could have been the anniversary of my sex-change operation. How would she know? This casually cruel remark of hers cut me too deep. I know I’m tender right now – what with my whole life going up in flames and not knowing where I’m going to live or if I can keep my cats or see my son regularly, or if I’ll get hauled off to debtor’s prison at any moment. But still – what is wrong with people being just civil to each other? Especially someone who is using  my desk as their dumping station? But I digress again.

And then, on November 10th, I was wondering all day why the date seemed significant. Important work deadline? No. Family birthday? No. Historic milestone? Nope.

And then I remembered.

Twenty-five years ago, I married the father-to-be of my child on November 10th. Weird to think that it could have been my silver wedding anniversary. Perhaps in an alternate reality, it was. Perhaps in that other universe, we happily toasted each other and our lives together and made plans for the next twenty-five years of our lives together, and our son and his younger siblings rolled their eyes but secretly enjoyed seeing mom and dad be all romantic together.

And for a bit, I was sad that we all aren’t living in that reality. And if that isn’t a Black Valentine story, Marin, I don’t know what is.

See? I have anniversaries.

Weird, science fiction alternate-universe anniversaries.

But anniversaries nonetheless.

So there.

Hey, Anna-Liza here, surrounded by full boxes and empty shelves. We’re living in the new house (if you can call this living – it’s sort of like camping without the s’mores) but not completely moved out of the old one yet. I thought I should take a moment to bring you up to date. Might be two moments. Or so.

Let’s see, we started moving on the first, and we have until Sunday to be completely out of the old house. There’s still lots to do, although all the big stuff is moved, mostly small stuff that just didn’t make it into the first, second, third round of boxes and stuff in the garage. We’ve had good weather up ’til now – but today it got cold and started snowing. More of the same expected all weekend.

And Mr. B started throwing up tonight. After Darlin’ K had gone to a fire show in Boulder with a friend. Not sure if he’s contagious or if it’s just from the entire bag of gummy bears he ate earlier in the evening. I’ll tell you what, nothing quite matches the aroma of barfed gummy bears. He mostly made it to the bathroom before throwing up, and he didn’t cry very much. Pretty good for just five years old. Poor kid.

Tracking back a bit, Knitting Sprite’s baby shower was last weekend and I gave her one of the handmade things, a knitted snowsuit made from a “furry” brown yarn, with bear ears on the hood and purple-and-green buttons. I wouldn’t describe it so completely except that I am losing my mind every single day forgot to take pictures before I gave it to her. I’ll have to get some from her, and then I can show you. It’s ridiculously cute.

Speaking of forgetting things, I have been losing stuff right and left. I know it’s mostly because we’re in the middle of moving and whatever isn’t still packed doesn’t always have a permanent home yet, but still. It’s driving me nuts. I have lost my reading glasses twice, my phone charger (luckily K’s is the same kind as mine), the blanket I’m working on for Wee Sprite (twice also), and … and … well, there was something else that was really pissing me off earlier because I couldn’t find it, but now I’ve forgotten what it was.

Damn and blast. I’m going to go put books on shelves. I know it’s weird, but having the books on the shelves will calm me down. See ya when I surface again. Maybe after I’ve figured out where to put the food. The kitchen has tons of storage space, almost all of which I need a two-step stepstool to reach.

Oh yeah, it was the duct tape. That I couldn’t find. To tape the kids to the walls. Still can’t find it.

Hey, Anna-Liza – you done with that duct tape yet?

The “two rambuntious kitties helping me pack” thing is getting old.

Thanks.

Lyda

Lyda here.

NOW I understand why I have no short term memory.

And here I was blaming the college years …

I know, crazy, right?

Wait…

What were we talking about?

… possibly right before checking into a nice room with padded walls…

Lyda here. Whole lot of moving and shaking goin’ on.

Anna-Liza is in the process of moving this month. I’ll let her give the details when she surfaces. Last I heard, she was looking for the duct tape. She did mention something about taping the kids to the walls.

I’m sure she was kidding.

Pretty sure.

I’ll be moving soon too. By January 2nd if not before. The reason is financial, and too depressing to go into. So I won’t go into it.

Places are lining up as possible new living areas. Seattle. Texas. Ohio. Pennsylvania. Colorado may even have an outside chance.

Shh. Don’t tell my employers that I may be leaving the state.

As that wonderful role model said, “I’m reviewing the situation...”

I wonder where my Zombie Army would feel at home?

Lyda here.

I am surrounded by cuteness.

A month or two ago, we adopted two kittens from one of my coworkers (they were free – she had even taken them for their shots). They are adorable and playful and energetic, and they make us laugh. We both need to laugh more. And they cuddle with me at night and that helps me sleep. I hesitated a lot before taking on the additional responsibility, but I think it was the right decision. I am battling the Dread Demon Depression (now as always) and it was horribly bad after Tommy’s death and I wasn’t sleeping at all. The kittens help.

Of course I still miss Tommy, and Jason too. How strange it would be not to miss them. I lived with them for so long, fourteen or fifteen years. Much longer than my marriage.

Which I don’t miss at all.

But I digress…

And the kittens are company for me when I’m alone, and that is more frequent now, what with the Resident Sith Master being an adult now and attending college and all. This fall he’s a full time student at the community college near our place – have I mentioned that? He’s taking Economics and Political Science and a history class that is called “Current Issues” and… another class I can never remember. Have I mentioned that I seem to be losing my memory?

Have I mentioned that I digress a lot?

So, we now have two short-haired gray tiger striped demons kittens. The slightly larger, slightly grayer cat we named Cato* because he attacks everything all the time and without warning.

Cato in an uncharacteristically mellow mood

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

We named the slightly smaller, sweet-faced cat with darker stripes Mace Window*, because he likes to hang out on the window sills between the glass and the blinds. Although RSM was saying the other day that his name should be Juggernaut.

Mace pretending he is not evil

.

.

.

.

.

.

They certainly create chaos, but it is mostly really funny. Every few hours Mace discovers his tail and does Olympic-level gymnastic flips chasing it. Every few hours. If I had a video camera, we would absolutely win on America’s Funniest Home Videos.

Mace is crazy. Not just chase-your-tail-for-hours crazy, but OCD-evil crazy. Mace will not be turned. Once he gets an idea in his tiny kitty brain, he will continue to try it out. Like attacking the blinds. He pulled one set of blinds down off the window finally.

Mace climbs the screens without mercy, and has taught his brother to try too – definitely not funny as the window screens are old and poorly fitted (so we could lose kittens to the Evil Outdoors) and the screen doors are brand new – so we need to keep them nice for the landlady – and… poorly fitted.

Have I mentioned that my apartment is full of poorly fitting items? It seems to be the major leitmotif. But I digress.

Mace actually found himself outside on one Monday, when my bedroom screen fell out and so did he. At the time, I didn’t even know they could reach my bedroom’s high windowsill. Luckily I hadn’t left for work yet – another 5 minutes and that darn cat would have been outside until RSM woke up and noticed he was gone.

He learned nothing from this experience.

Needless to say, we keep all the windows closed now.

Their favorite place to hang out

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Like Marge, Cato keeps himself in a state of cat-like readiness – the first week or so he twitched almost all the time. He is mellowing a bit now.

But it is a certainty to him that his brother must die. He continues to attack without mercy.

Lucky for all concerned, kittens are easily distracted.

You might even say, they digress.

* I linked to the relevant movies, and here is more info. Cato is the namesake of the character played by Burt Kwouk in the Pink Panther movies (in this clip, Cato is hiding in the freezer). Mace is named after this Jedi character from Star Wars.

Yet I am trusting that most of y’all will understand both references without the links. Only one person at work got it – she’s the only one who has seen both sets of movies, and we even discussed the color of Samuel L. Jackson’s light saber. Oh yes we did.

One other person at work got the Peter Sellers reference (but not the Star Wars one). The rest of them were clueless.

I weep for the lack of culture in my work place.

But I digress again.

Lyda here. Good day for a meme. I took this quiz from House Beautiful magazine’s September 2009 issue, which focuses on finding your color personality.

Here’s their quiz. It asks for one color, but I had multiple answers to most of them.

What’s Your Color Personality?

1. What’s the first color you see in the morning? Other than the ones on the cats’ faces? White, because I rent.

2. What color are your eyes? Hazel. Depending on my mood & colors I’m wearing, they can be vivid green, gray-green, or almost gray – the happier I am & the better I feel, the greener they are. Who need a mood ring? I’ve got mood eyes. But I digress.

3. What color do you wear the most? Royal purple / royal blue / black

4. What color(s) do you never wear? White and pastels

5. What color(s) do you wear when you want to feel sexy? Black

6. What color gets you the most complements? Deep green or rose. A color tester once told me to wear rose if I ever had to testify in court because it is so flattering on me.

7. What color is your lipstick? Uh… don’t wear lipstick, so I guess… nude?

8. What color was your living room when you were growing up? Alice in Wonderland Blue. Really. That was the name of the paint color.

9. What color was your bedroom when you were growing up? Lavender and pink. Shudder.

10. What color(s) are your sheets? Black and white.

11. What color was your favorite crayon as a child? I could never choose just one! I loved all the bright rich colors.

12. What color is your car? White, but my ideal car color would probably be green.

13. What color was your prom dress? Spring green.

14. What’s your favorite gemstone(s)? Amethyst and rose quartz.

15. What is your favorite flower? Yellow daisies. I really like yellow flowers; they are cheerful.

16. What color makes you happiest? Royal purple, yellow.

17. What color depresses you? White. Cool gray. Cool beige.

18. What color calms you? Blue.

19. What color makes you grind your teeth? Pastels. I hate pastels.

20. What color would you like to try, but are scared to? Orange.

Here’s a different color personality quiz from Life Script. Their quizzes are annoying, because before they give you the results, you have to decide if you will subscribe to their email offers. I always put in a fake name and email address, which works fine. But it is still annoying. I included it anyway this time, because “Pollyanna” is one of the answers to Question 8. Heh. I love being an answer, even if I’m not the only choice. This is what it said about me:

YOUR RESULT: Blue Violet

Lyda here. This is the third installment of my adventures at the Orange County Fair. If y’all are interested, here’s part one – fair animals and part two – fair fiber. Yes, I went to the fair in August, and it’s now the end of October. Let’s just say this whole post is a diversion from my fall. And I’m not talking about the season.

I only took two pictures of the quilting, both of the same of the award-winning quilt:

Blue ribbon quilt

.

.

.

.

.

This was a beautiful baby quilt. I even took a close up:

detail of blue ribbon quilt

.

.

.

.

.

I love the colors, the design, and the lavish quilting in golden thread. It was perfectly executed. Something to aspire to.

But I promised obscenity, and I’ll get there, y’all. Heading into the produce section, I saw that the fair has a huge… floral clock.

Time to flower.

.

Yes, that is just one carrot on that plate...

Broccoli-Spinach

The mind boggles...