Bodacious Boomer

Whenever I come home I always do a head count- or perhaps I should say a paw count. Since Daisy is such an escape artist, I have to make sure that the furry kids that were here when I left are still here when I return. (Luckily, when Daisy gets out, she just sits in the front yard and waits for us to return.) She doesn’t want to go anywhere else, she just likes the thrill of the escape. I guess she’s an adrenline junkie. We’ve placed big concrete blocks against the bottom of the fence in an attempt to prevent her escape. However, she still tunnels under the fence like one of the POWS in the movie The Great Escape.

We’ve decided that the only thing we can do to contain her is to dig a trench at the base of the fence and fill it with concrete. So that’s on our agenda, hopefully for next week. When we came home the other night I did my usual count. We were missing someone- Blondie. I called and called for her, but no Blondie. I looked inside, Doug outside, no Blondie. We got a flashlight and looked for holes under the fence or a broken picket- no holes, no broken pickets. The gate was still locked and needed a key to open it.

Now I’m starting to freak out and my calling for Blondie is becoming urgent. (I didn’t think the aliens had beamed her up to their spacecraft after all.) After calling for a couple of more minutes I heard whimpering. I got Doug and we headed towards the sound coming from the garage. Most people have cars in the garage; some have boxes, bikes, BBQ grills and even Christmas trees. This is what I have thanks to my resident hoarder-

(I took this photo today. Believe it or not, it was worse the other night. )

So Doug started climbing into the heart of darkness AKA the garage, trying to find Blondie. Of course, the bulb in the overhead light had burned out long ago; so he was crawling over the clutter in the dark. I was aiming the flashlight towards the whimpering. He finally found her in the garage, on the opposite side right by the big garage door, which of course doesn’t open since the electrician jammed it while opening it last summer. Apparently she’d gone in there, then all the clutter shifted and she had become trapped. Even when he found her, she wouldn’t move- probably for fear that something else would come tumbling down. Doug had to carry her out. (Lucky for Doug she wasn’t hurt.) Blondie was very happy to see me when she was finally extricated.

Blondie doesn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from her experience. However, she does now seem to prefer being in somewhat confined spaces. She makes her bed during the day in an Elfa drawer at the right of my desk; and at night, she now likes to sleep in the corner closet in our little home office.

Now I make sure that the door to the garage is ALWAYS closed; at least til I can get Doug in there with a steam shovel and a dumpster nearby. (Of course he may have to be darted before we start to clean.) Anyone know where I can rent a tranq gun?

I was sitting at my desk today going through a deep drawer of assorted crap that at some time was deemed necessary to keep. It’s kinda like my junk drawer in the kitchen, but this one has papers too. I found a coupon for dishwasher soap from 10/2007, an old voter registration card good for the 2004 election, and many, many names and phone numbers written on tiny scraps of paper and the back of envelopes. There must’ve had at least 30 business cards in there too.

Of course by now, I have no idea who any of these people were or why we would have kept their info to begin with.  Doug gets frustrated with me because I always use a tiny piece of paper when I write something down. (Perhaps I am clairvoyant and am foreseeing the huge paper shortage of 2010, when everyone has to write lists on their arm.) What really peeves me though is finding 2 rebate slips that I forgot to send back- one for $50, one for $25. (Of course they’re expired by now.)

I found some batteries. Are they still good? Who knows? Semi-dried out markers, staplers that are permanently jammed and floppy discs with no labels all happily cohabitating; thirty-six cent stamps, pencils with no points or erasers. I found a Wee Sing tape. (Brett and Amanda are both in their 20’s now.) It’s a cornucopia of clutter. I even found some liquid paper. That hasn’t been used that since God knows when-the last century?. The question is why is all that junk still here? I know. It’s the giant clutterbug I’m married to. He thinks everything is fixable. I think if it’s broken and you can replace it at the dollar store pitch it.

I even found an order for some lab tests for Doug. The appointment was for May. He never gave me the form. No one ever called us the day before to confirm, so he missed the appointment. (We’ve both been to the Dr. since and the Dr. didn’t mention anything to him so perhaps the tests weren’t that important anyway.) Amanda taught me a couple of years ago how to use the calendar on gmail. It’s great. I use mine every day for my appointments and other important stuff.

I’ve realized over the years that now I must keep track of all of Doug’s appointments as well as my own and all our dog’s. The orders for the labwork didn’t get on my Google calendar. That’s why he missed the appointment. He’s no dolt. He’s got an MBA. However, sometimes, he can’t seem to walk and chew gum at the same time unless it has to do with sports, business or tools. He has no idea of what prescriptions I take, or he does, for that matter. I finally laminated a card with all his meds listed and stuck it in his billfold in case of emergency.

As I sift through all this stuff I realize that this drawer is like a snapshot of my life. Keep the good stuff and get rid of all the junk.