Katydid, Rozmo, and I had planned to ride our bikes today. I mapped out a 50-mile route and made sure there were sufficient store stops for refueling. I ate a breakfast to give me enough energy to pedal to the first store stop. I aired up the tires on the tandem and got out the chain lube. I was excited to spend a day on the bike.
When I went out to get the newspaper this morning, it was drizzling just a little bit. I checked the weather on my favorite news channel, and the weatherman said it would rain in the afternoon but not in the morning. Even the radar showed no rain.
Katydid and Rozmo both called to see if we were still on for riding, since both of them live an hour away. I said it was drizzling but it was certain to blow over.
Yeah, that's what Noah said.
As soon as I aired up the tires, it began to rain in earnest. Katydid arrived first, and it began to rain harder. Rozmo called from 2 miles away and said she was waiting at a gas station under the cover so her bike wouldn't get any wetter than it was already.
We sat around my living room gossiping for about an hour (which sent Hubby upstairs to watch television), and we decided it wasn't going to get any better. Rozmo left, and Katydid and I decided to go to the store where I had decided to get my new bicycle.
It was raining so hard we could barely see the road. I thought, "We shouldn't even be DRIVING, much less riding our bikes."
Then the sweet young precious adorable helpful cute salesman at the store said he was excited about my ordering a new bike, but I would have to call during the week when the manufacturer is open so he can make sure they have what I need in stock.
I almost called him last week, but I stopped because I thought he would think I was dumb, ordering a bike over the telephone.
So Katydid and I had lunch and came home. And naturally this afternoon the sun came out and shone brilliantly enough for my sister-in-law to come use my pool AGAIN. Oh, and before she left, she didn't mind going in our motorhome to show it to her used-to-be-boyfriend-now-just-a-hanger-on.
To top it all off, Hubby in one of his impulsive maneuvers last night bought from one of his buddies a bedroom suit that is too big for our bedroom. Hell, it's too big for our house. It may be too big for the state of Rhode Island. He is adamant about having it, though, so we are going to have to do major renovations to the upstairs. As in combining two bedrooms into one. One of them is our junk room, and the other is our ........ other junk room.
Guess whose job it will be to clean out the junk? I realize I have fallen into his mode of keeping stuff that should have been thrown out long ago. My sweet precious daughter (**ahem ahem**) has also kept everything she has ever possessed, and she left most of it behind when she moved out seven years ago. I don't mind weeding out and reducing the amount of clutter in our house, but I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate doing it with a deadline. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to hate doing it alone when SOMEONE ELSE will probably be at the golf course.
Here are just a few of the things I have to get rid of sometime in the next couple of weeks: a queen-sized bedroom suit (Katydid may take that one), a cedar chest (belongs to Katydid, but I don't know if she has room for it), a gargantuan L-shaped computer desk (along with the outdated computer and printer), a craft table, an armoire that belonged to Sweet Girl and still has middle-school stickers all over it, a sewing machine and cabinet that belonged to my former mother-in-law, a small bookcase, a dresser and mirror, a dining room table, and a china cabinet/hutch.
I jokingly said to Hubby while we were at his buddy's house looking at the bedroom suit that it would be easier if we just bought his house. (His buddy is being transferred to Fort Lauderdale and is getting rid of everything in his house.) Hubby actually entertained the idea for a little while and allowed his buddy to show him all around. He eventually nixed the idea, though, as I was pretty sure he would.
At this point I wish he would just call his buddy and say we made a mistake, our house won't hold that bedroom suit, just tear up the check and sell it to someone else.
But he's way too stubborn for that.
3 comments:
Can you make that phone call? That's a lot of work for bedroom furniture.
Now if you were coming my way with the motorhome I would beg for some of your discards.
And now that I think about it, renovating your upstairs to accommodate bedroom furniture makes as much sense me driving to Georgia to buy your dresser, dining room table and craft table....
Sorry the ride was rained out. That stinks!
LMAO, I was so there just a couple of weeks ago! My parents gave me the bedroom suit that had belonged to my maternal grandmother. Grandpa bought it for them as a wedding gift.
Now, I have two boys in college, and rarely do I see them even on summer breaks. They're either working and living somewhere else, or following their girlfriend around to the four corners of the earth. I told the boys that I needed their rooms cleaned up, and the things they wanted to keep boxed up and put in the closet. Just take a wild guess who got stuck moving all the furniture out of one of the bedrooms, cleaning out and collating all the stuff to be put in boxes and move the heirloom bedroom suit in, all in one very exhausting day? Just guess?! My oldest even threw a little hissy, asking where his room was going to be. I told him the same place, just with much nicer furniture!
I will take the bedroom suit, the cedar chest and the sewing machine if you can't sell it. I will also help you all I can with this endeavor!
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