Friday- My First Spring Break Photo
My first official photo of Spring Break was for my driver’s license. I got a postcard in the mail on Thursday reminding me that I had a birthday over a month ago and that my license expired at that time.
This was not even remotely on my birthday to-do list because I just got a new license about a year ago since I thought I had lost my license at the time. It turned out that the old license was against the wall under the hoosier cabinet where any number of furry paws must have pushed it. “It slides on the tile! Wheeee!” The lesson to be learned is that I should more frequently and more thoroughly clean under furniture.
Friday after school, officially free to run wild, I went to the DMV. Fortunately, on a Friday at 4:00 there were few other people who thought that standing in an overheated room that wreaked of cigarettes and old lady church perfume was a good idea. Two people away from being called, I had a tiny DMV flashback/ panic attack brought on by listening to the employees continually ask, “Will that be cash or check?” The DMV is the only place on Earth still not set up for credit cards. I quickly ransacked my purse, checking all emergency cash spots. If this was over $25 and some change, I was out of luck.
I was able to swing the $25.75 down to the last little penny I had, and got to pose. It was so exciting! First picture of Spring Break! Whoooooooo!
DMV employee: “Ma’am, please put your top down. We need to be able to see all facial features.”
Saturday- Oh, It’s Clean Enough
I don’t like cleaning. Sure, it looks good and feels good when it’s done; but with myself plus four cats, it’s a never ending battle of dust, dirty laundry, and fur. Among my many projects over break, cleaning would be one starting Saturday.
I can attest that all the surfaces in my bathrooms are cleaner. Several loads of laundry and some rugs were washed. However vacuuming and putting laundry away is TBA. I lost my momentum after a trip to Target and two hours of tech support bingo with my home computer.
The cats were having a contest to see who could be least helpful to mommy. I’m not sure who won, but all four melted into sun puddles that day.
Can’t help clean. Meeelllltttiing
I eventually said screw it and made cookies.
Sunday, I traveled to exotic and “warm” Southern Ohio for pizza lunch and familial visitations with Gpa and company (All the people I know who went south to Florida, Vegas, and Mexico are totally jealous). Having a few hours to kill before meeting up with Mom-Bert, I hit all the available flea markets and antique stores in town. Not many, but enough to fill some time and leave me with a reasonable nap time on her couch.
At one shop, the resident feline greeted me and then trailed my progress through the place. I’m not sure if the cat was about working a sales pitch or if I looked sketchy and needed to be followed for security reasons. If I failed to acknowledge him/her frequently enough, the cat would jump up on tables and chairs near me as a reminder that it needed petted and talked to. Every shop needs a cat.
“Let me talk to you about our table selection.”
I didn’t make any purchases, but I did come back to an item that attracted my attention on earlier visits. It’s a yard long embroidered flower garden of bright, cheery flowers. I like the colors, the variety of flowers, and the non-standard shape of the piece. However start combining embroidery with all my other tchotchkes, and suddenly this will turn into a grandma’s house. I polled an honest friend and my Facebook connections, getting pretty much the same response: it says old lady. I’m conflicted. It’s pretty, I’m drawn to it. If it were a painting or multimedia piece for the same price, I probably wouldn’t second guess buying it. Just something about embroidery……
But it’s pretty.
Ricktator versus Porch Dick—This should probably be its own post.