Thanks be to the ferret

nobody@vox.com(cliopatra) — Thu, 24 May 2007 06:55:11 -0400

Yesterday I stopped at the communal mailboxes on the way home to get the mail. Posted above our section of boxes was a notice that someone had found a ferret and it was at domestic animal services and scheduled to be destroyed next week.

The notice reminded me that there is a community bulletin board at the end of the mailboxes. I stop by there sometimes to see what's what. Things for sale, services offered, lost and found, coupons, maps, the usual.

Yesterday there was a notice that almost made me drop my mail: someone in the community was selling a bed. Not just any bed, either. Queen sized. Mission style. $250. OBO.

We've been thinking about buying a new bed for a while. We are currently sleeping on a full size that I've been dragging across the country since the late 90s. No head or footboard. Just frame, mattress and box springs.

This is perfect. The size we want, and includes the head and footboard? And mission style - my favorite? Not even a year old?

Queen sized mattress sets alone are upwards of $400. The head and footboards are probably at least $400.

I snatched the whole notice off the board and called him when I got home, figuring the bed would be gone. He called me about an hour later and we walked over to his apartment to take a look.

It's gorgeous. The mattresses aren't even 5 months old! I offered him $230 (I should have said $200, but hindsight is 20/20). We're going to pick it up on Sunday.

All because of a ferret.

*************

In other news, work is going well. I am much more caught up than I thought I would be at this point in the week. I'm going in a little late this morning so I can do some cleaning here at home because of the next news item:

My brother H and his brood, and my brother R and his brood and coming down to Naples tomorrow for the day. We're going to the beach and having a cookout and just generally hanging out. I'm so excited.

Irish and I both have the day off from work tomorrow, and he's got a list of chores for tonight, since he'll be home and I'll be at a dinner meeting. But that's why I'm going in late this morning, to do some stuff so I don't feel so overwhelmed tonight.

After Friday I have a whole long weekend filled with nothing. I'm looking forward to that, too!

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QotD: I Remember That Summer…

nobody@vox.com(cliopatra) — Sun, 13 May 2007 21:52:57 -0400

When you were younger, did your parents ever send you away for the summer? What was the experience like?
Brought to you by the movie Georgia Rule.

My parents didn't "send me away" but the summer I was 12 my cousin Kelly and I went to southeastern Oklahoma to spend the summer with my maternal grandparents. My grandfather was sick with emphysema, though he would get much worse in later years.

That summer was so hot. I don't remember a summer ever being hotter. We spent most of the time inside under the air conditioning, and when we did go out we were always armed with our swimsuits and popsicles.

There was a boy down the street who had moved in sometime during the past winter. His name was Shawn and he was 15. He was cute, and I had a huge crush on him. Unfortunately for me, I was mousy and goofy and far too introspective. Plus, did I mention I was 12?

Kelly was 14, glamorous. She smoked, I remember, which scanadlized me to the core. That summer she was constantly bumming cigarettes from whoever. She looked 16 or 18. She set her sights on Shawn and I'm sure she had him that summer, whatever that meant to a 14 year olf girl and a 15 year old boy at the time.

One day we went to someone's house to go swimming. I don't remember whose, I just remember there was a pool, and I had a yellow and white one piece bathing suit. I swam and jumped into the pool and swam some more until I was wrinkled. There were other kids around, so it may have been a public pool. I remember I was getting a lot of looks and snickers.

Seems my bathing suit went completely transparent when wet. Kelly remembered to tell me this after we had left to go home.

I was mortified.

She was fearless, where I was fearful. I had lived in that area for a year back when I was 10, so I still knew people who lived nearby. I had heard through the grapevine that a bunch of kids were going to the roller rink one afternoon, and some of my friends would be there. Shawn would also be there, and so, of course Kelly had to go.

I'm not sure where my grandmother was at the time, but she wasn't at home. Kelly and I were home alone with my grandfather. He was old, sick, and hadn't driven in years. Neither one of us could drive, so she convinced him to take us to the roller rink, which I thought was a horrible idea.

There was a bird house on the corner of the driveway on a long post. He nearly took it out trying to back out of the driveway. We made it to the rink safely and I remember spending my usual time being a wallflower, watching my 5th-grade boyfriend skating with his then-girlfriend, and catching Kelly and Shawn making out nearly everywhere.

My grandmother picked us up later that afternoon and boy was she mad. She was most angry at Kelly for forcing my grandfather to drive us, but she was also mad at me for not trying to stop her.

Story of my life. I'm the responsible one, so I'm always responsible, whether something is up to me or not.

The funniest part of that summer was that whenever my grandmother was calling one of us, she would call roll. When calling for me she would say "Come here Kelly, I mean Candy, er Cheryl." Or when she was calling Kelly she would reverse it: "Come here Cheryl, I mean Candy, Oh! Kelly!"

Candy was the dog.

********

Funny thing. About 10 years ago I had just moved to Mississippi, and I got an e-mail from Kelly. She was living in Tennessee, and getting ready to marry her third husband. She had tracked me down and wanted me to come to the wedding.

I wasn't able to attend, but we did exchange some e-mails and we had one of those weird discussions you could only have as adults. Somehow we got on the subject of childhood, and I admitted to her that I had always been jealous of her because of her looks. Everyone always talked about how beautiful she was, how she should be a model, such stunning eyes and beautiful features. I always felt so frumpy by comparison. I always felt like I lived in her shadow.

She told me that she had always been so jealous of me. I was the smart one, and everyone always talked about how intelligent I was and how capable. They always expected me to do great things. She always felt stupid by comparison.

It was pretty liberating to get that out in the open. We had a really nice talk after that.

I think her third marriage lasted a couple of months. Last I heard she was somewhere in Oklahoma, working for one of the Indian casinos and snorting her paychecks. Damn shame, too. She was a beautiful girl.

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Thanks be to the ferret

QotD: I Remember That Summer…