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that was no weekend, that was my life
September 22, 2014
I am so damned tired. Another weekend where I had no chance to regenerate. It started on Thursday, with me coming home from work, making dinner, cleaning up, and doing three loads of wash before bedtime. Then I worked like a dog on at work Friday, and once I got off, I really started busting my hump.
First I had a few calls back and forth with my doctor's office. I got my test results back and everything is fine except for my bad cholesterol (good went up, but so did bad). Doctor want me on a low-fat, low-calorie diet. There's a frickin' shock, huh? And I since they didn't send a new prescription for my thyroid pills, I needed them to re-authorize the current dose.
Once I got that in motion, I was ning around taking care of necessary errands like getting my prescriptions picked up, getting the oil changed in the Ford,and, once I got home, it was more work, getting all the laundry and weekend chores done that I could manage. Then, once Spouse got home, we immediately went out and did all the shopping.
Before we went home, we made a swing down to Zion to pick up a pizza for dinner, then came home, hurriedly put everything away, and gobbled dinner, because it was late, and we were both famished. All I had managed for lunch was some sharp cheddar slapped on rye bread, when I got home from my errands.
I was up at my usual weekday time--4:30--on Saturday, and out the door by 6:06 to head down to Dad's. I took my second coffee to go, and only stopped once--in Richmond, to grab a couple Egg McMuffins for breakfast. It was a pretty good trip down, next to no traffic on my route for most of the way. Even 39 by Rockford was fairly quiet.
Got to Dad's at 8:26 (I'd told him 8:30, so he was pleased. He loves punctuality!) and we sat and talked for a while out front, before going in and setting to work. We cleared out the 2 kitchen cupboards that were left to do, plus the top pantry shelf. boxed up a bunch of boxes of stuff for the auction (more about the auction later), and loaded up a bunch of stuff for me to take home, and threw out several bags more.
And he put his birthday present to good use! After going through my usual contortions of trying to think what to get him for his birthday, I had a flash of inspiration last week--he has been going on for months about how he needed to replace his document shredder. He must have told me 18 times in the last 3 months that he really needed a new shredder. So when we went to Sam's Club on Friday, I picked him up a nice one. Now my dad rarely shows any kind of enthusiasm when you buy him a present, and usually he just scolds you for buying him anything. Well, I caught a mild scolding for this one, but he was actually tickled to bits to get it. I was feeling guilty for buying the $50 one instead of the $100 one, but then he told me this is the one he wanted, but he wouldn't buy it because it cost too much! He couldn't wait to open the box and get it all set up and running. In fact, he got so excited that he accidentally shredded something he was supposed to keep. So I was feeling pretty chuffed about that.
One of the items we packed up and put in my car was my mom's KitchenAid. I bought it off my dad for $100. (Plus an additional $20 for the meat-grinder attachment, which has never been used and cost my mom $60.00 at Bergner's. That was a special present for Spouse!) Here's the thing about that mixer--it was one of those things that was a status symbol, and a move in the decades-long game of one-upsmanship she had going with Auntie in Arizona. 15 years ago, she was dying to have one.
If she used it a dozen times, I would be shocked. And as I said--she never used the meat grinder. Mom, in a nutshell. Wait--one more thing to tuck into that nutshell. Although she had that thing sitting on the counter for a decade and a half, my oldest brother was able to go down to the basement and bring up the original packaging--box AND styrofoam inserts. And, even the box was in perfect condition! Las time I was down there, I found the owner's manual in the cookbook rack, so we had that, as well!
To sum up--I have a like-new, Kitchen-Aid Heavy-Duty 5-Quart Bowl-Lift stand-mixer (in classic white) with all original tools (whip, beater, and dough hook) and owner's manual, in its original packaging. Easily worth $300.00 if completely new.
But (I hear you ask) why? Don't I already have one just exactly like that? Well, yes, but Nephew is getting married in a few weeks, and it is the fondest wish of his bride to own a KitchenAid. I wanted to make that dream come true sooo bad--even if I couldn't get her the one she's registered for.
And I came within a hair's breadth of pulling it off.
But then Nephew's wealthy step-uncle went and sent them a new one for a wedding gift.
And since that IS the one she registered for, and it's brand new, and you only need ONE...Spouse and I were left holding the a mixer that was apparently not needed.
Well, actually...not really a problem.
Want to know how to make a 21-year-old culinary school graduate--who just got her first job a professional chef and her first apartment--VERY happy?
Niece is thrilled. She informed me that her first recipe in it will be Challah bread, and she is "so excited for homemade bread, I might just die!!"
Now--back to Dad's. After about four hours of hard work, we took a break and ran out for some lunch. I ended up having a shrimp basket--popcorn shrimp & fries, and a little bit of chicken soup. Way to eat healthy, huh? (it gets worse)
After lunch we finished up the stuff we were working on, and Dad came up with a few more things he wanted to do, so we did those, then took a little break to relax and cool off. I went through some pictures, and found a few I want to copy and send to my cousin in AZ, along with her earrings. Then we put in another hour or so in the kitchen and laundry room before deciding we'd had enough for the day. I told Dad that he was never going to be able to work on it till he was finished, so he should just work on it till he'd had enough. So we sat around and talked for a while, then he decided it was time to think about dinner.
He knew what he wanted, so we went to a bar across the river that has amazingly delicious fried chicken. Their chicken "strips" are really more like boneless split chicken breasts, you get FOUR of them, and and the batter is perfectly amazing; light, crunchy and seasoned to perfection. So what happens? I have the chicken, and he, who specifically wanted chicken...orders steak, baked potato and salad. Which he regretted, because it was a mediocre steak. But he got one of my chicken strips, so he was fine pacified a little. Once we got home, we were both so pooped that we said goodnight and retired to our rooms to read (BIG reader, my dad--that's where I got it, I guess) and I conked out before 9, even though that guest room bed is horribly uncomfortable.
And was up at 3:40. Because he was. And since he can't hear himself, he has no idea how much noise he makes, futzing around. I fought it till five or so, then I just got up, got cleaned up and dressed, tidied up the bedroom and bathroom, and went out to the kitchen for some coffee. I while trying not to get up too early, I'd written out a list of stuff I wanted to get done before I left, so after my coffee I went to work.
Mom was hoarder, and among the many things she hoarded, food was a biggie. My brother and my dad had filled two moving boxes with unopened packaged mixes that needed to be gone through, so I started with a first pass by date--2009 and earlier, pitch it. 2011-2012, set aside for further deliberation. 2013 and newer, they're probably fine, keep them.
And because my dad has a very hard time letting this stuff go to waste, I ended up sorting out a few items I figured were easy enough that he would use them--muffins, cornbread, drop biscuits. All the rest of the stuff 2011 and newer...I took home, sorted once again, kept what I wanted, and pitched the rest.
I find it weirdly hilarious that my brother and I regularly have to haul trash to another state to throw it away, so Dad doesn't have to face it. I mean--don't get me wrong. It makes me heartsick to throw away all of that wasted food. But that ship has sailed. The food isn't wasted when you throw it away, it is wasted when you let it expire without using it. The throwing away is after the fact.
Anyway--After we dealt with that (and it is only a small portion of the whole) he ran to the convenience store for a couple of donuts. While he was gone, I threw some more stuff into the trash and then took it out right away, and I loaded more crap in my car. And while we had our apple fritters, we decided that since he doesn't like to go shopping by himself, I would run to Dixon with him and we'd do it together.
So he went off to get ready, and I busied myself with de-registering my mom's Kindle Fire HD7 that she had to have, but never used. He was all het up about that thing, and worried sick that he was stuck with a brand new-never used, expensive item that couldn't be transferred to someone else. (I think he read some horror stories about IPad owners dying, and Apple not allowing the tablets to be transferred without the dead person's signature. ) Fortunately, Kindles are not IPads, and it was quite simple. It wasn't like my mom had anything on it, for one thing, and except for the fact that I couldn't get the offline method to work, it was very easy. As for having to do it online, hey! I got to try out my new phone's mobile hotspot capabilities!
Well, what started out to be a simple Walmart run ended up with us going to Walmart, then going over to Sterling to Kohl's so he could return some shoes that had been giving him buyer's remorse since April, and shop for some new ones. He bought a pair I know he's going to hate, then he turned around and bought a really nice, lightweight winter jacket. And he apparently knew he was going to end up hating those shoes, because he said that he wanted to look at shoes at ShopKo. Mmmkay...ShopKo, Dad? You didn't say ANYthing about going to ShopKo, and it's getting late; I need to start thinking about getting home...all right, back to Dixon to the ShopKo. Where he came dangerously close to buying more shoes he didn't really want, and picked up another throw rug to match the gorgeous new ones he'd already bought.
He wasted no time getting rid of my mom's awful cheap rugs; he hated them with a passion. So he shampooed the kitchen carpet and treated himself to all new, high-quality Mohawk rugs as a birthday gift to himself. I really never understood why they had carpet in the kitchen in the first place, but they do. And since it's pretty worn in high-traffic spots, and Mom dropped the iron one time and burned a huge hole in it by the cupboards, and my Dad has no plans to spend the money to redo the floor? Rugs are a necessity.
So at this point, it's around 1:00, my pulled hamstring is killing me (did I mention I somehow managed to pull a hamstring in my GOOD leg?), all I've had all day is two cups of coffee and an apple fritter, and we are still in Dixon. Frankly, I just want to get going.
So Dad decides we need to go eat something. Lunch at Culvers's, which he dragged out as long as he could, and then the ride back to his house, for which he took the long way, and once we got there, I had to help put away all the shopping. So. Time to go, right?
He made me go through the closet full of purses, because there were certain good ones he wanted to make sure I got. (The leather bags, ones I'd bought as gifts, her Michael Kors, etc.) I ended bringing home about 8 out of the 25 or so bags she had in there. (She cleaned it out last year and got rid of the really old stuff--about thirty more.)
I'm not a dim woman--I know what he was doing. He didn't want me to go home, and kept finding reasons for me to not leave yet. But eventually, I really had to put my foot down.
So finally, at 2:30, with a car load of stuff--including a large metal armillary sundial, wedged across the backseat. Since it had been a Mother's Day present from me years ago, she told dad before she died that I should have it for my garden. I didn't really want it, but he jammed it in there and I wasn't given the option to refuse.
And the mixer, and several boxes and bags of various stuff; the food items, the purses, the miscellaneous junk. I zipped straight home the fasest way, and pulled in at 4:54 pm. Texted Daddy that I was home, kissed my hubs, snuggled the dog, took a badly needed potty break, unpacked the car, sorted the contents, put away what I was keeping, threw away what I was discarding, and sat down to a big bowl of hubby's chop suey and rice.
And after the dishes were washed, I finally got the chance to breathe.
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