blessedly alone

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Okay. I feel like a bit of a jerk, but I'm craving some time alone. 

Between the neighbor (who's last name I still don't know) being at my house for the last two days and will be sleeping on my sofa again night and the harrowing drives to work and the constant decision making about the weather and such, I am frazzled. 

The only option for being at home alone involves my basement, which is pretty damn chilly with the -15 degree weather and all.

Sweetie got a service call to fix a leak at a neighborhood bar. When I asked to go along I think he assumed I was going to help and hold wrenches and stuff.

We walked in the back door and I hightailed it to the bar, tossing him the tools I was holding as I ran. 

The glow you see in my delicious Vanilla Porter is my Kindle downloaded with the latest Janet Evanovich novel. 

This feels like a mini vacation!

power

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I'm still close enough to my days of living paycheck to paycheck and juggling utility bills that my first thought when the power goes off is that I forgot to pay the bill. I immediately run to the window to look down the street to see if any of my neighbors have lights. 

While my lights were only out for about eight hours on my side of the street, they still don't have power across the street and a good chunk of the neighborhood. 

It feels like I'm bragging by turning on the porch lights. Hey, lookie over here! I have lights, and heat, and water and you don't! Nannie nannie boo boo! 

After yesterday's storm the temperatures crashed to below zero and the frigid air was starting to take its toll on fingers and toes and water pipes and people's nerves.

I was grateful to be able to open my door for cell phone charging and toe warming.  I met folks I'd never seen before and was glad that old friends walked over.

In fact I've got a neighbor sleeping on my sofa tonight. I'm pretty confident of his first name, but I don't know is last. Nothing weird about that, right?

our lady of perpetual shoveling

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Indianapolis got socked with a foot of snow today. 

It fell really fast, over an inch an hour. 

At least it is one of those pretty snows. Big fat flakes that make everything look clean and beautiful. 

It was all fun until the lights went out. The whole neighborhood was dark. 

Sweetie and I took shelter at his sister's house. And a lovely house it is. Wood burning fire, football game on the TV, beer in hand, and a pug at my feet. 

I was ready to stay for days when I heard that the power was back on. 

Back to reality I went.

ireland here we come!

So. I'm going to Ireland later this month. Mom is traveling with me for the first week, and then I'll be joined by my sisters, their husbands, and Dad. 

We invaded AAA today to book the tickets. If the chaos and noise that was part of the airline ticket purchasing are any indication, this will be a raucous trip! 

 Cheers! 

home is where the parsley is

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Except for my unnatural affection for my iPhone and MacBook,  I pretty much live like it's 1957.

I listen to a transistor radio, hang my clothes to dry, read actual books, hand wash my dishes, and love my old refrigerator and stove. I'd totally raise chickens in the backyard if it wasn't for the occasional wild dog that wanders through. Or that fact that I had enough of feeding and watering and butchering and plucking chickens as a kid.

I've been getting fruits and veggies and other groceries delivered to my doorstep every other week for about a year now. I'm eating better and enjoy coming home to the Green BEAN green bin on my doorstep. Packing my General Electric 1950s fridge makes me happy and feel like a grownup homemaker.

It's about time, I guess.

city snow

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It's not pretty, but I got the sidewalk in front of my house and most of the driveway shoveled by 7:00 this morning.

Even if I'm the only one on my block that shovels the sidewalk, I feel weird if I don't. And as the landlord, I also shovel the driveway and a path for the tenant to get from the driveway to his side of the house and a path through the front yard for the mailman.

As a kid on the farm the most delicate tool we used to move snow around was a scoop shovel - the same one we used to "clean out" the cow barn, I might add. At least shoveling snow with it knocked some of the stink off.

Snow removal typically involved the John Deere B tractor and the attached front scoop. I loved being part of it when I was younger even though that meant freezing my little arms off to do it. Note the lack of cab or any sort of windbreak.

Shoveling snow is the city is a privilege that I enjoy. We're supposed to get walloped with snow again this weekend. I'll be the one on Winthrop with my shovel, Uncle Cletus' potato fork, and a big frozen smile on my face.

new year

If the old adage about the way you start the new year sets the tone for the rest of the year, I'll be spending a lot of time under this quilt.