Teddy should know the reason. Bless his little heart for trying to get me engaged. A blog should be a fun place where you learn things. Not just how cute cats are (they are!) or about your kids or your grand kids or your kitchen or whatever. Reading a blog should be fun, educational, and interesting. Not pitiful and sad. So during our pitiful periods, we simply do not post.
Here at Lucindaville we are having a continuation of our sucky year and frankly, you do not want to hear about it. Fine. The entire month of May we had water issues. While I am convinced that nothing would stop me from surviving the zombie apocalypse, I can assure you that not washing my hair would be the end of me.
I can live through hot temperatures.
No Internet, though I would be very cranky.
No television, though I would miss Gilmore Girls reruns...and NCIS.
No overhead lighting.
I could even go for days, weeks, months wearing the same jeans and sweatshirt...as long as I could wash my hair.
No shampoo. No conditioner. No life.
It is a pretty tacky thing to state given that hundreds of thousands of people die each year for lack of clean water and I bitch about my hair. So actually, my life could be exponentially worse. However, in a month without laundry...I was faced the prospect of a closet with one old prom dress, a tattered tutu, and bleach stained Harley shirt. While I would have turned nary a head at ye ole Walmart, the prospect of blogging in a bright orange prom dress with dirty hair was simply inconceivable.
As June dawns, all appears to be working again. We have water on a consistent basis. The washer (repaired after breaking during a late spring snow) and the new dryer (the old one died the day AFTER the washer was fixed) have us flush with clean clothes.
And, yes, it would be very funny if it wasn't me. In keeping with that, one last "woe is me tale."
While being without water to properly wash dishes, I managed to drop a nearly full jar of coconut oil. The good news is the oil was rather solid, so while the glass broke into a hundred pieces, the oil kept the jar close by. I set it in a bowl and it sat on the counter for weeks. When I got water, I decided to wash the bowl and dispose of the coconut oil.
I took my mother's old Tupperware colander that has been around the kitchen since before I was born and dumped the glass and oil in it and set it out in the sun to separate oil from glass. In my excitement over having mounds of clean clothes, I forgot it was outside. During the night, a raccoon stole my colander. This colander had survived at least twenty moves, three generations of cooks, and my carelessness in leaving it on a hot stove resulting and lima bean sized hole that had to be plugged with finger when washing lentils.
A raccoon stole my colander! This is my life.
So, if you see a raccoon running around with an old, green Tupperware colander, it's probably mine. Tell him I want it back!