is there any more pie?

I just received a call from the owner of the consignment store.  She was not happy about the quality of my furniture (I guess my photos made it look better than in person?  I dunno).  I was afraid she was calling to tell me to come pick it all up.

That would not have gone over well with Banjo Man.  He did okay after the brutal Cornhusker loss Saturday night, but I’m not sure if he would see any humor in our furniture being rejected by a secondhand store.

She explained that she was pricing everything very low.  Just to get rid of it, was the unspoken meaning.  I knew how she felt, though I still miss my red chair.  She told me how much her rent was, and basically how much valuable space my crap was taking up.

I really felt bad.  Guilty.  As if I’d been caught trying to scam her.  I didn’t disappoint her on purpose!  I liked my stuff, even if no one else did.  Deep down I didn’t think it was so awful.

I hope she doesn’t google my name.

The woman who worked at the store yesterday loved my red chair.  She called it “adorable” twice.  She petted it.  But then I heard someone else call the owner on her cell and inform her that “someone brought in the ugliest furniture I have ever seen”.   I skulked out of there as fast as a woman could skulk.

Which proves you’re never too old to be embarrassed.

…and crying won’t bring her back.

There goes my red chair. I called it my “Two-dog Chair” because there was enough room to put a little dog on each side of me while I watched tv.  Then no one’s feelings were hurt.  I’m sure a picture of that exists somewhere, but you get the idea.  (If Banjo Man reads this, he will cringe.)

My mother said she will miss the yellow chairs.  In fact, several people have said, “Not the yellow chairs!” in a rather stricken way.  They were very comfortable.  And very, uh, bright.  Marigold bright, especially in the daylight.  I’ll bet the other people on the road wished they were getting this delivery instead of the consignment store.

I don’t care about the couch.  Or the tables.  Move on down the road, you marble things.

Come back, Two-dog Chair!!!  I made a mistake!!

My husband says this is one of the happiest days of his life.  He suggested I visit the chair at the store, because he’s sure it will sit there for a long time.   But he doesn’t know that if it doesn’t sell in 90 days, I have to take it back.

Don’t count your chickens, Banjo Man.

”]Check out this cake.

I saw the Nordic Ware Stadium Bundt Cake Pan in Marshall’s three years ago and I resisted buying it.  And then it landed in the clearance aisle and still I resisted.

Because how many times can a person who no longer gives football parties make a cake shaped like a stadium?  Banjo Man and I would be eating this thing for weeks.

It sort of looks like Memorial Stadium–home of the Cornhuskers in Lincoln, Nebraska.

”]Tonight Nebraska plays its first Big Ten game ever.  At Wisconsin.  In the world of college football, there are many, many differing opinions as to who will win and who will go down in flames.

This game is a very big deal in our family.

Our two Texas sons have planned–for weeks, if not months–to watch it together.  They will call their father no less than six times.  There will be cheering (I hope) and screaming (I hope not) and way too much cussin’.  In times of Cornhusker chaos, Banjo Man tends to fall on his knees three inches from the television screen, raise his fists in the air and shout the kind of words he only uses when he’s alone.  Or thinks I’m not listening.

But I’m always listening.  Aside from enjoying the games, I feel it is my wifely duty to be in the room so I can call “911” if Banjo Man has an apoplectic fit.  I am not kidding.

Now that Son #1 has a baby, football-watching is much quieter in his house.  He and his brother have learned to muffle their cheering by throwing themselves face down on the couch.  Any cussing is whispered.  And when they call their father, they go outside on the deck.

My sweet daughter-in-law runs a tight ship.  I love it.

GO BIG RED!!!!!

Is anything more fun than visiting your big brother at college???

After all the research into which one of these particular “things” was the best quality and best value, Amazon.com had it on sale.  With free shipping.

Its contents will remain secret. And might have something to do with what my adult children receive for Christmas, if I have time before December to open the box and learn how to use it.

I tried to explain this brilliant, genius-like, winter-night, techno-geek project to Banjo Man, but he wanted to watch “X-Factor”.

Between the heat, humidity and just-about-constant sorting stuff, there hasn’t been much free time to sit at the computer and blog about anything remotely interesting.  Or even to blog about anything boring.

Speaking of boring…

I killed my keyboard Tuesday.  Banjo Man came into my office to ask if I was going to varnish the coffee table that morning (he’s very anxious to finish decorating the living room) and I said it was too humid.  And just so he wouldn’t continue to argue, I pointed out that we didn’t have mineral spirits with which to clean the brush, even if I was foolish enough to risk bugs sticking to the top of the table.

And he suggested I varnish the table anyway and just throw the brush away.

Gasp!!! Throw a thirteen-dollar special varnish brush away???!!!

I then spilled my coffee all over the keyboard.  And drowned the mouse, too.

Yesterday I bought brush cleaner, a new keyboard, a new mouse, 2 small, old pie plates shaped like pumpkins, flounder and celery. I donated 100+ paperbacks and 3 bags of clothing to charity, set up a time to bring stuff to one of the local consignment stores, returned books to the library (no time to read!), mailed 7 packages at the Post Office, checked out freezers at Home Depot, washed 4 loads of vintage curtains and drove to the middle of nowhere to look at a freezer advertised on Craigslist for $100.

Today I exchanged the keyboard and the mouse for different models, tried the new peach sundae at Burger King, bagged stuff for the Salvation Army, discovered a possible treasure while cleaning my closet (a story for another time), baked the fish and made 8 chicken pot pies.

Tomorrow I varnish.

Riveting, isn’t it?

Are you Idaho folks sure you still want me to blog from Rhode Island????? 

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