Thursday, March 8, 2007

this is the way the volvo ends, this is the way the volvo ends, this is the way the volvo ends, not with a whimper but a bang

girls up at 6:30... I rise, bake potatoes, start coffee, play a bit with the girls, start laundry, feed cats, have a cigarette with my coffee while the girls clean up their play-space in the window. Put on BBC World Service, enter some books online, putz around and tidy until 8:15. Start breakfast. Hannah rises and we dine on scrambled eggs with tomato and sweet pepper, bacon for big people (bake it in a pan in the oven at 375, 7 minutes on one side, six on the other - for those who prefer "wet" or "limp" bascon to crunchy), potatoes with rosemary, orange juice, coffee, forget the toast in the toaster oven (as usual). Hannah off to work in Shelton, then into Oly for a spell. Girls demand to run around sans shirts. I grudgingly acquiesce.

Day is filled with computer work, shirked household chores lazily accomplished in sloth time and eventually completely abandoned and put off "until tomorrow" (wink wink), curse words over my broken volvo. Tried to start old Puff up to go to the post office (have to ship everything priority now goddammit) and she spat something out her tail or mouth, couldn't tell which but I suspect, from the plume of smoke issuing from her nostril region, it was something under the hood. Couldn't get 'er to turn over after that. Had a talk with the girls about "member 'ast time tow twuck come 'n take-ah owr cah away?" a few tears when "papa not fixxxxx it!!!!" right away. Lyli issues with an adorable whine: "Papa get in ouh an' fix 'eyo things and tuhrn... it... on!" So we walk out to the mailbox instead and they get totally wiped out running over a quarter mile. I carry them most of the way back to the house until my arms cramp, mail crammed in the back of my pants down my long-johns. It's windy and Lyli & Scarleht's sun-kissed hair blows back in golden slivers, their little bright blue eyes squinting into the afternoon sun. We enter the house, eat some leftovers from breakfast and the girls excuse themselves for a nap. I try not to take it personally that they sometimes just want to go to bed with each other and not me. Then I come to my senses and revel in the bliss of independent twins.

Work is piled up around my house in the form of piles of books and stacks of boxes full of more books, bookshelves full of books, gardening I need to get crackin' on, wood to be split, housework (&*% *#$% &#$% &*$%&$), computer work and springtime yard work. Sometimes I loathe working on the computer but I suppose I enjoy at least having a wide variety of different things to do on one. Although that does tend to just cause things to back up even more at times. I sort my e-mail for an hour. Whittle it down from 159 to 67 and then quit in disgust. Glance at myspace inbox at all the unreplied incoming messages. Decide to delete the 22+ superfluous messages from the answering machine instead. Instead of cleaning I try to just not make anything else dirty (excepting dishes of course). Tow truck gets here, drags volvo away to mechanics again. Rent due again in two days. I shudder at the frail balance of my bulimic checking account. Put more books online until my brain is fried. Make dinner and cuddle with the girls to watch a movie. I fall asleep. 7:00? 8:00?

Wake up at 9:15. Girls have gone to bed on their own sometime. Window is clean but rest of downstairs trashed. At least they dig playing with empty cardboard boxes. I try to read, fail. Sit and think about old friends lost in the wind. Put more books online. Fret a bit. Watch The Godfather. Stop fretting. Try to psych myself up to see a show in Portland later tonight. Should probably nap with the girls before Emma arrives tomorrrow so I'm not absolutely shellshocked.

Lyli and Scarleht have been really high energy the last few days, an energy I assume can only come from me, since it appears to have a directly proportional draining effect on me as it shoots them through the roof. I take my vitamins and a quick shower (that was this morning after breakfast, I just got around to typing it now).
At least their obnoxiously high energy levels are filled with giggles and practical jokes and light-hearted piercing shrieks and circles run around in. At least we live in this beautiful place.

More books online. Remember to eat a little snack. Prepare to collapse. Replay upon awakening with minor modifications.


Honky-Tonk Dragon said...

I hate that Volvo for you.

Gavin said...

You write the blog forwards, but I read it backwards. March 8 I turned 26. A show that my girlfriend likes, L Word, features a character named "Papi" - she is the most promiscuous lover that group of gay ladies has ever met. "Papi" like as in Nick "Papa" Kho?

I forgot my point, but, Sky, I like to read your original content much more than the other stuff - I usually skip the links, etc.