It's that time of the year, so Rolf took Freyja and headed to Sauvie Island to procure pumpkins.  To tell the god's honest, shit has been a little intense around her and I have not been in the running for mother of the year award.  I have purchased zero pumpkins.  I have also not murdered anyone, so I am calling it a WIN. the bathroom is semi-finished, I have no idea when it will be all the way finished. 

The drama of our home improvements continue onward. 

We decided to do the bathroom too, while we are at it- what's the lack of a shower between family members?

Last week was a very intensely stressful week, that came to a somewhat explosive conclusion which involved me yelling at the contractor, over the bathroom vanity, that was made of particleboard. 

Not even nice looking, it just looked terrible. 

My mother had already nixed it's installation but when I saw it, I snapped.  I lost all confidence in the contractor and his ability to understand me and my house needs and well, frankly, I was not that shit hot on him to begin with. 

I don't enjoy being pitched, or wooed or up-sold.  I enjoy straight talk and keeping even that at a minimum.  This guy is a bit of a taker and he irritates me.  I should cut him a little slack, because I am pretty unusual, most people enjoy a bit of chatter and salesmanship, but I don't. 

That is just that,  

I DON'T

Then my mother drove to industrial NW Portland looking for a replacement vanity and found one, but by cracky when we went to pick it up Friday evening, it was lost, the warehouse couldn't find it.  I had already had my little breakdown, so at that point I was just sort of numb.  It all turned out fine by Saturday, when we found a Alder vanity at another place, but MAN, OH MAN, what a pain.

Life is terribly complicated and difficult.

It's true friends it is. 

I am remodeling our kitchen, our 100 year old shitty kitchen,

remodeling,

YES.

My 7 year old cat is lying on my computer mouse and not being one iota ironic, and my

14 year old poodle is wailing upstairs, while I write. 

My 14 year old boy, is ignoring the poodle, either that, or he is wearing headphones. 

Either way, life is complicated, and difficult.

I am writing this post in a format that would suggest poetry, but I am giving only the most cursory thought to form, or function. 

I am being,

in short,

SLOPPY.

I am not writing a lune, or a haiku, or a poem, or refined prose, I am being insolently sloppy and negligent, 

even     though    I    know    better.   

They might revoke my ENGLISH degree.  

So back to the kitchen.  My kitchen is currently a large square room with appliances.  My mother, god bless her heart, is designing something that should make me very happy at some point in the future, but for the present, is only making me very nervous. 

We are talking back splashes, and subway tile. 

We are talking about making the archway into my mudroom 6" smaller, we are talking about oven vents, which makes me want to stick my head in the oven.  

It will be beautiful. 

My mother is a mountain of talent.  Ashley, you used that term years ago and it remains brilliant, stealing it here.

I am keeping my day job, as expert worry person.   I am working overtime, in fact. 

That is the long and short of this poem to no one, and nothing.