I'd better get you all caught up.
I killed two roosters with an ax because, well, they're roosters and they were crowing at 3 in the morning and we have neighbors, and they bother the hens and the hens are actually useful and really cute. There were little splats of blood on my muck boots and I felt a little like Louise in Thelma in Louise when she found that little speck of blood on her face. It was my first killing on that scale and it really wasn't too bad. When it's practical, it takes the edge off.
The secretary at the Chamber of Secrets has terminal cancer and has been given a 25% shot at making it 2 years. She started chemo this morning. Obviously, this changes things a bit. My chamber job is probably going to go full-time, which doesn't leave enough money for a secretary...unless we do get the tourism money and can apply some of it towards that. How death does intermingle with practical matters.
Kevin quit smoking! But he seems to have largely given up on helping around the house, too. Note that I have a full-time job with its own set of demands and lots of evening meetings yet I still do, oh, 90% of the grocery shopping, at least 98% of the cooking (less if you count toaster waffles in the morning as cooking), 99% of the out-of-kitchen house cleaning, maybe 50% of the kitchen cleaning, and nearly all of the animal care. I help Stevie with his homework, still make all the doctor and dentist appts., AND do all the bills! Now I'm just getting pissed.
We haven't been out. We never go anywhere. Well, I occasionally fly places to work for the Hill (including a January trip to, yikes!, Buffalo). That's about it.
We're broke as hell, as usual. I might get a raise after the dust settles around my jobs. I'm still the only one bringing home a paycheck, but the shop is picking up. I was a couple of HOURS late paying our biggest credit card balance and the APR shot up to 28%. I would rather lose parts of a finger than pay that shite. I asked Kevin to call because he is the primary, and he needs to ask them to bring down the rate or else we really won't be able to pay the minimum. It's been 1 1/2 weeks since I've asked. He hasn't called.
I didn't intend for this post to be a rant against my ordinarily wonderful husband! I have been pretty irritated with this stuff lately, which transfers into much less affection and that's no fun. He needs to step up his game around the house. He's a fricking hero at the shop, but I feel like he treats the house as a place to sleep when he can't be at work. Same old shit.
Don't worry--our love isn't in jeopardy or anything. But when I read those articles that say things like 'even though women work outside the home, too, they're still doing all the house crap as well', I am one of them and it pisses me off. I was one of those budding feminists who saw--and spoke out--against the gross inequity that played itself out at every big family gathering. You know the ones--the women, most of whom worked outside the home, invite everyone, clean, shop, cook, and serve. Everyone eats. Then the women clean up while the men sit on their asses and watch football. It was bullshit then and, even though overall things are much, much better now (oh, how I squirm waiting for certain generations to die off) it still happens. And it's happening to ME! Urgh.
Positive side...I love my family, I love my work (and have work), a home, animals, and some choices in this world. I might rant and rave, but things aren't all bad. I read a really interesting article on slate.com about the movie "The Reader" and how it's part of a disturbing Hollywood trend of forgiving Nazi monsters--in this case because the heroine was gasp! illiterate. I'm reading quite a bit. I have three lovely little ewe lambs and one runty ram. They all have great names. One (Leia) has one bright blue eye like David Bowie.
Mark, after having been given a little bag of animal crackers from a big box of the same, peered into the box and asked, "Do you have any cracker barns?" Stevie asked me just this afternoon what a 'mortgage crisis' is (we were listening to NPR) and listened, with interest (ha!) to the answer. I even managed to avoid the terms "fat cat bankers" and "stupid greedy asshole Wall Street types". So that's good!
Enough for now, dear reader.
The secretary at the Chamber of Secrets has terminal cancer and has been given a 25% shot at making it 2 years. She started chemo this morning. Obviously, this changes things a bit. My chamber job is probably going to go full-time, which doesn't leave enough money for a secretary...unless we do get the tourism money and can apply some of it towards that. How death does intermingle with practical matters.
Kevin quit smoking! But he seems to have largely given up on helping around the house, too. Note that I have a full-time job with its own set of demands and lots of evening meetings yet I still do, oh, 90% of the grocery shopping, at least 98% of the cooking (less if you count toaster waffles in the morning as cooking), 99% of the out-of-kitchen house cleaning, maybe 50% of the kitchen cleaning, and nearly all of the animal care. I help Stevie with his homework, still make all the doctor and dentist appts., AND do all the bills! Now I'm just getting pissed.
We haven't been out. We never go anywhere. Well, I occasionally fly places to work for the Hill (including a January trip to, yikes!, Buffalo). That's about it.
We're broke as hell, as usual. I might get a raise after the dust settles around my jobs. I'm still the only one bringing home a paycheck, but the shop is picking up. I was a couple of HOURS late paying our biggest credit card balance and the APR shot up to 28%. I would rather lose parts of a finger than pay that shite. I asked Kevin to call because he is the primary, and he needs to ask them to bring down the rate or else we really won't be able to pay the minimum. It's been 1 1/2 weeks since I've asked. He hasn't called.
I didn't intend for this post to be a rant against my ordinarily wonderful husband! I have been pretty irritated with this stuff lately, which transfers into much less affection and that's no fun. He needs to step up his game around the house. He's a fricking hero at the shop, but I feel like he treats the house as a place to sleep when he can't be at work. Same old shit.
Don't worry--our love isn't in jeopardy or anything. But when I read those articles that say things like 'even though women work outside the home, too, they're still doing all the house crap as well', I am one of them and it pisses me off. I was one of those budding feminists who saw--and spoke out--against the gross inequity that played itself out at every big family gathering. You know the ones--the women, most of whom worked outside the home, invite everyone, clean, shop, cook, and serve. Everyone eats. Then the women clean up while the men sit on their asses and watch football. It was bullshit then and, even though overall things are much, much better now (oh, how I squirm waiting for certain generations to die off) it still happens. And it's happening to ME! Urgh.
Positive side...I love my family, I love my work (and have work), a home, animals, and some choices in this world. I might rant and rave, but things aren't all bad. I read a really interesting article on slate.com about the movie "The Reader" and how it's part of a disturbing Hollywood trend of forgiving Nazi monsters--in this case because the heroine was gasp! illiterate. I'm reading quite a bit. I have three lovely little ewe lambs and one runty ram. They all have great names. One (Leia) has one bright blue eye like David Bowie.
Mark, after having been given a little bag of animal crackers from a big box of the same, peered into the box and asked, "Do you have any cracker barns?" Stevie asked me just this afternoon what a 'mortgage crisis' is (we were listening to NPR) and listened, with interest (ha!) to the answer. I even managed to avoid the terms "fat cat bankers" and "stupid greedy asshole Wall Street types". So that's good!
Enough for now, dear reader.
posted by lulu | 4:31 PM
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