John Cole Presents “This Fucking Old House”

Lots of awful in the news, our President is still a fucking loser asshole sociopath, so I am not going to talk about any of it. I will talk about the very vivid dream I had last night.

I dreamt that I had a 90 year old tortoise who had been passed down through generations, and I was very attached to him. His name was Gary. At any rate, Gary developed some rare disease and his shell started to deteriorate into gel, and I had to have his upper shell removed to save his life. I then fashioned a temporary shell out of a very large copper mixing bowl that I found at the consignment store, and then had a friend fashion an elaborate permanent replacement shell with a 3d printer.

In other news, the wildflowers I planted in the front yard walkway bed three years ago are back with a vengeance:

If I lived in the country I would just plant fields of wildflowers.

*** Update ***

No sooner did I hit publish on this post when I turned around and found this majestic motherfucker:

I love him so much.

Thursday Night Open ThreadPost + Comments (177)

Apparently two weeks ago I left my ferns out on a night that it frosted, and it killed all the ferns I got dirt cheap. I guess they were dirt cheap because they knew it was going to frost again and they wanted to get rid of them without a loss. At any rate, I was going to take them down and try to trim away the dead stuff and see if they could be saved, but it looks like I am just going to have to let them be because we have several families who have moved back in:

Additionally, the bird’s nest in the corner of the column that I left up all winter was a couple weeks ago torn down- I walked outside to go do something for my parents, and it was gone. A couple hours later I returned, and it was rebuilt. I have not taken out the stepladder and inspected it yet, but I know there is a lot of activity going on because the top rip is lined with bird poop and small downy feathers, so I know there are some more babies in there.

I was going to take a picture, but I got distracted because Thurston was raising a ruckus in the back yard, and it appears he found a garter snake. I had to chase him into the house (the neighbors got to hear me yell “NOOO LEAVE THE SNAKE ALONE”), and I went back and the snake was still alive, so I made sure Steve was inside and then closed the doggy door.

Full time job keeping everything alive around here. At any rate, super excited that in just two years we have gone from one bird nest on the front porch to now THREE! Next year maybe we can get closer to max occupancy for the spring rentals out front.

Operation Birb 2020Post + Comments (77)

I had a panic attack today for the first time in forever, and it was because, unsurprisingly, I had convinced myself briefly that I somehow had contracted the virus and spread it accidentally to everyone I had interacted with the past few days. In all likelihood I do not have the virus, just a continuation of the cold I have had for two days, but I worked myself into a lather. I used to have these quit frequently before I quit drinking, now I think I have had one in the past six years. Longtime readers will remember about a decade or more ago when I was diagnosed with a GAA, but only after having every test run to man because I thought I was having a heart attack and then convinced myself, with the help of WebMD, that I had MS because my hands and feet were going numb- all of the above are symptoms of anxiety attacks.

At any rate, it’s no surprised I am having a panic attack, and it would not surprise me if a lot of you are as well. This is an anxious time, our President is a malignant nincompoop, a lot of people are going to die, and shit is just crazy. On top of all that, I am at a point in my life where it feels like literally everyone around me needs something. Other than Tammy, it seems like everyone I know or interact with is having a problem or needs something done or needs me to do something. I legitimately can not go an hour without an email or a phone call or knock on the door about something that needs to be done. You have to do this because we can’t do it, we need you to do this because x is happening, so and so is pissed and you need to do this. On top of everything else, it just overwhelming. Can’t everyone just fuck off and deal with their own fucking problems, and beyond that, stop turning everyday issues into life altering disasters. Get a fucking grip.

For my mental health, I am just locking shit down. I have to make a god damned trip to South Carolina on Friday to load up stuff from my parent’s winter place, and I am going to get in the car with food already prepared, stop at gas stations for gas and pull over and piss on the side of the highway, get there, load up the car and go to bed, and then drive back the same way the next day. Other than that, I am done. I’m not leaving the house, I am not interacting with people. You need me, email me or call me, or leave a note on the front door. I don’t need to leave the house, so I am not. I’m not going to be responsible for killing someone.

I am stressed out and going caveman.

High Anxiety- Time to Just Lock This Shit DownPost + Comments (256)

I have a mouse, apparently, which means if you have a mouse you actually have mice. I should back up.

A couple weeks ago, I found two dead mice in the basement. I picked them up, threw them in the trash, yelled out “Solid work mate” to Steve, and went about my business. Today, I was cleaning up the kitchen, and I threw a bunch of leftover duck sauce and soy sauce packets from yesterday’s Chinese into the drawer where I keep that kind of shit. You know the kind of drawer I am talking about, because everyone has one. It has condiments and seasonings and unused disposable chopsticks and a couple random bandaids and some batteries (probably all dead) and that kind of shit. You never actually use anything in that drawer- you just put things in it that you are not ready to throw out YET, and then once a year you open it and say “MY GOD THIS IS A DISASTER” and throw everything out.

At any rate, I opened that drawer, and I saw shredded seasoning packets and mouse poop and all sorts of mess. So here is where my headspace is.

I don’t like to kill things. I definitely do not like to kill things with poison. And while I know that you definitely do not want mice in your house, at the same time, I have seen too many tv shows and cartoons and have anthropomorphized the little bastards to the point that I kind of like knowing that there is a mouse family in the house, much like I enjoy having birds nest on my front porch and the rabbit warren underneath the shed and the deer that visit the abandoned lot next door because I throw apples and stuff there.

So I think what I am going to do is just thoroughly scrub and sterilize all the drawers and cabinets and throw out anything that attracts the mice, make sure all dried goods are in impenetrable containers, and see if we can come up with an amicable living arrangement. They’re on their own with Steve, but I am willing to try out this non-aggression pact.

Mouse in the HousePost + Comments (140)