There are some things that I’ve put off ridiculously long, and this is a brief picture show of what I finally got done within the last week, in order of least pathetic to most pathetic.
**This is not the best of the before and after Bowser pictures I’ve ever taken. . .
3) BOWSER The first specimen is my dog Bowser. It had been at least 4 months since we’d gotten his hair cut, and he was developing what I like to call his “homeless man” face, for lack of a more politically correct term. What’s worse, he had this ridiculous clump of fur that would stick right into his eye. Neither Brian nor I wanted to take him in, so I finally won the honor, when I became so embarrassed and sorry for the dog that I couldn’t take it any more. And now he is as cute as a button all over again.
2) SOCKS I got a gift certificate from one of the stores I’m boycotting, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do it, so I went and bought 9 pairs of black socks. Nothing fancy, just something to replace the sad socks with the big-toe holes that I’ve been hobbling around on now for a year or two. Really, sad, I know. This shows you how little I like to shop or maybe how crazy I get about trying to conserve things. (I actually took a picture of my old socks, too, but I was worried I might frighten anyone away from ever reading my blog AGAIN.)
1) LIGHT BULBS. This is the most ridiculous of all the things we have put off because of the obvious inconvenience and safety hazard imposed by this omission. Let me first explain that I am not a completely ridiculous, helpless girl when it comes to light bulbs. I change light bulbs, especially if I already have the bulbs. I have been the one to change the light bulbs in the dining room light fixture, and I have changed bulbs in our living room lamps. However, these two hallway light fixtures have been a little more challenging; first, because I did not have the bulbs nor know exactly what wattage and size they were; and second, it was rather difficult to reach them. At some point during my mutterings and strugglings in the dark (see dark picture), I noticed that Brian had gone so far as to dismantle the covering from “Ridiculous Light Fixture #1”, and so I saw my opening. There was no way I was ever going to get to Ridiculous Light Fixture #2. Even if I got up the nerve to knock on my neighbor’s door and ask for a ladder and was somehow able to divine the size and wattage of those light bulbs up there, my ridiculously designed landing step is not a landing at all, but rather a criss cross of large triangular stairs, such that it is unlikely either Brian or I will ever have the nerve to come anywhere near those high-in-the-sky light bulbs. (Why does anyone ever put light bulbs in a place that high, anyway?) So, I grabbed a kitchen stool, hoisted myself up, grabbed a bulb, and read the fixture label. Armed with a bulb and the wattage, I finally went to the hardware store, came home, and directly changed the 3 bulbs, rejoicing in the end of my torturous evening traipsing, the termination of my flimsy dependence on my not-so-cat-like vision to keep me from tripping on the stairs and plummeting to my death. What actually makes this item the most pathetic of all is that it hasn’t actually been taken care of at all. Yes, it is back on my “to do list”, for, alas, my triumph was short-lived when 2 of the bulbs shorted out the very night I replaced them, and the last of the three died the following day. Clearly something is wrong with the fixture, which means we will have to find a man or woman on stilts to take care of the cloud-high bulbs, if we ever want to see up the stairs again. Fortunately, my ingenious fiancee found a quick tentative solution (see our final picture). He took one of our Christmas gifts, two timer-ed battery-operated snowman candles, and stuck them on the ledge of a window beneath our sky-high bulbs. Not ideal, I know, but now the stairwell is slightly less of an ominous cave.
So, there you have it. Finally getting things done — or not. And of course, this is only a touch of the wackiness of our day-to-day lives. (Don’t even get me started on the garage-door opener in Brian’s car with the month-long dead battery. . . I told him I WILL NOT get out of the passenger side and open the garage door for him when it’s snowing. . .)