August Can't Take It Anymore: August Mini-Rants

We have a two-story house, and rent the bottom floor. We have had superlative tenants, in a good way, for many years. But yesterday, it blew up completely, due to actions I had taken. The sad thing is my actions have been really reasonable—my great crime was using a path through a common area of the yard (straight from the house to the alley, not in front of any windows) to get to and from my work-from-home space. Their complaint is that I’m on this path too often, way too many times a day. They want me on a schedule.

They had said they’d need to move soon anyway, and I suspect that are Other Things going on (some I know, though I don’t want to post them online, but probably some I don’t), but man, do I hate being cast as the bad guy in someone else’s life story.

Wait, you’re the landlord/owner, yes? Damn, that’s balls - to complain about your landlord’s use of his own outdoor living space.

Mini rant #1a: I am physically hungry, but have no appetite and no desire to fix/buy anything in particular.
Just low blood sugar & rumbly tummy.

Mini rant #2b: it is fly season here in western Mitten State, and although I remind myself that it beats hell outta mosquito season down South, it’s still annoying.
To me, not to my young cat, who views “Sky Raisins” as tiny, tasty, flying toys.

For many decades I never mise en place’d when baking. I was always sure the baking shelf was kept full. My daughter, the baker, pounded it into me that having everything prepped and ready is best. I now mise en place everything- going to sew? I set a feasible goal to accomplish and pull threads versus stopping and hunting for the right color. Cooking? Everything lined up according to when it’s added.
Except today. Blueberry lemon bread was calling my name.
All the liquids mixed, sitting in the bowl.
Guess who was short on flour?

If you write an article that refers to a picture or video then that pic or vid (or direct link) damn well better be in the first paragraph!

Similarly, if you write an obituary, the cause of death and circumstances (even if it’s “not known at this time”) better be right at the top.

I’m sick to death of “authors” who can’t write

Another friggin’ sideshow (a couple dozen cars taking over a major intersection, spinning donuts, smoking tires etc) around the corner at midnight last night. Almost 45 minutes of revving engines, squealing tires, and probably 100 or so people gathered 'round to watch the show. Besides the noise I could actually smell burning rubber from their tires.

San Jose Police declared they were going to step up enforcement months ago and asked people to call 911 to report sideshows. When I called–after it had been going on for 15 minutes–the dispatcher already knew about it and said units would be on the scene ASAP. Well, 20 minutes later I heard the first sirens…after the festivities had died down and the boy racers were long gone.

Well, we’ll know what caused your demise…it’s right there in the third paragraph.

Normal work vacation policy is that you can carry over one week, to be used by the first quarter of the following year, yanno when it’s still pretty much winter in the northern hemisphere. Last year, there was an exception made due to pandemic, you could carry over two weeks, to be used up by end of second quarter.

Given that the pandemic carried over into this year & earlier in the year, the world was still on lockdown, & because of that many events which normally start their planning in the winter either delayed whether they would happen, postponed their traditional date, downsized, or outright cxl’d this year one could assume a reasonable possibility that the two-week carryover policy would occur again this year. Except, as of Friday, the last business day of the seventh month (of 12 for those who are counting challenged) they hadn’t made a decision. Ummm, when do you plan on letting us know how much vacation we have to use this year vs. what we can defer into 2022?

& I forgot to mention; Halloween candy has been in the supermarket for a week already.

I should have put two and two together when Pluto, our field spaniel started exhibiting mud clots on his legs and between his pad pads, necessitating unpleasant (for both of us) removal.

But it wasn’t until I mowed his wonderful fenced and partly shaded yard today that I realized what he’d been up to.

That little stinker had been busy excavating not one, but three separate tunnels in an attempt to escape from his backyard paradise. One of them was maybe a day of determined digging from his being able to wriggle through to freedom.

It was like a scene from The Great Escape, which I never should have allowed him to watch with me.

Would “Shawshank Redemption” have deterred him?

I’m gonna see a friend soon. She’s gonna compliment me on how skinny I look & how much weight I’ve lost - I know her, and I just know that’s what she’ll say.

Thing is, not all of us are stuck in the 90s worshipping Kate Moss and the starved, protruding hipbones look.

Some of us LIKED having books, and a functional blood sugar level. Some of us miss those things, when we are not well.
Do not compliment me on the signs of mental illness, ferchrissakes.

A. P. Bio reference?

Speaking of flour …

I made spanakopita today. And managed to forget to put the flour in the filling. And didn’t realize it until the thing was built, so the only thing left to do at that point was to chuck it in the oven and hope for the best.

It’s cooling on the counter right now so I’ll find out shortly if it’s good enough to serve for dinner or if I’m going back to the store.

Interesting. My filling has no flour: Spinach, feta, eggs, dill, parsley, green onions, olive oil, ground pepper, and nutmeg. Haven’t had any issues with the layers separating or squishing out.


Thanks, auto-correct!

I meant: some of us liked having BOOBS.

Yeah, because a dog who possibly rolls in/eats poop would have hated the idea of swimming through a sewer pipe.

I can’t sleep on my stomach, or left side, I have an ostomy and the bag and stoma are on my left side. I have never been able to fall asleep on my back unless sedated in my entire life [no idea if I manage to sleep on my back when I am asleep, because asleep] and I can’t sleep on my right because my armpit and a good bit of my right side boob have blisters and open sores from the radiation treatment. FML, I just want to be able to sleep.

If I were a vampire at least I could hang from the rafters …

Mine is similar but with leeks instead of green onions and no olive oil (and of course the flour). Came out OK - a little squishier than normal, but the eggs were enough binder and it tasted fine. Needed about 15 minutes more cooking time too. Whew!

I’ve been in a similar fix once. I have too much boobage to sleep on my belly and have never been able to fall asleep on my back. Then I did something that caused BOTH of my shoulder to act up at the same time, meaning lying on either side for more than about ten seconds caused agony.

I discovered I could sleep quite comfortably in a nice padded easy chair, with a hassock to keep my feet/legs up, and a coverlet tucked over the top of me and wrapped down around my legs and tucked under my feet to keep me warm. Maybe that would help you?

Added: I also used a pair of pillows beside my head, one on each side. Otherwise my head would sometimes roll over to one side and then I’d wake up with a killer stiff neck.

And if you’re writing an obituary, please learn the difference between interred and interned. Lost count of the times I’ve seen the wrong word used in obits.

Yep. It’s more proof that editing is not a lost art; it’s an abandoned one.

When my spinal stenosis first kicked in, I “slept” in a recliner for the first six weeks. I couldn’t even get into bed, let alone sleep there.

After abdominal surgery I was told that I HAD to sleep on my back. Well, I figured I’d be awake forever, but DH suggested putting one of those body pillows on each side of me, and it worked. After one night of unhappiness my body finally accepted that this is it and I was able to sleep.

Good luck to you, aruvqan. I’ll be thinking of you.