Friday, January 16, 2015

One month two days

So our first night in our hail mary townhouse No...peaceful? know that feeling you get when you are being water boarded? Yeah - that one. I'm not one to complain, well hell, yes I am but I am attempting to spray maple syrup on this bitch and find the silver lining. The house, which creaks and whistles and last night, I was certain I heard breathing is, well, haunted. Okay that's a strong word since no actually haunting happened. Let's go with the fact that there are more than just six living here. Can you just trust me on this? The master bed is a bit of canoe when you lay down and since I have always loved my time on the water, I will stay positive and commandeer the SS Smith to Slumber. When you open the trundle in Livvy and Maddie's room, you can't close the door so hey - lots of air coming in from the hallway, who doesn't need fresh air? Especially when the heat, no matter how hard we attempt to manipulate the heating element from 800 BAC, can roast a chicken in the bathroom. Open some windows you say? Great idea, and we can all share in the whistling what's a girl to do? Whistling and freezing winds or Florida in August - we vote for whistling winds and so did our neighbors who enjoyed midnight telly of old reruns of Matlock. And I am not complaining!? Who else under 70 loves Matlock reruns? This girl! The room that Jack and Ava share has a double bed and double in British is large twin. The wifi is abnormally clear, like freakishly good...I think the wifi password is, wetracedthecallanditscomingfrominsidethehouse. Hell if I were a ghost, I would need good signal. Don't underestimate the power of good post mortem communication. After rifling through our 16 bags and racing up and down two flights of stairs to get said pajamas and necessities to said children, my thighs have never looked better. Yes, if I have to turn this into a positive fantasy experience, my legs will rock. After getting Maddie picked up from school at 9:00pm (U of Maryland does night classes, again, lovely - everyone loves three hours of lecture after a day of moving and packing!) we settled back in the Whistler and began locating everyone's tablets and phones and chargers. It was particularly delightful to find that we don't have enough adapters to charge everything. Awww, those Brits...those silly Brits. Just more family time to talk about our day and how completely fuc...I mean grateful we are. We just don't get enough time together these days and the last seven weeks of living in a hotel together has shown me that love conquers all and wine...err family is all one needs. After a restful four hours of sleep, like they did on the farm, waking up to take Ava to school because she is a rockstar and turned down the parental gift of taking Friday off, I stumble down the creaky mine shaft and figure on my way down there is a way to avoid the just has to tread delicately on either side of each step, like a weird game of hopscotch and then at the bottom landing, avoid it completely leaping from the last step to the tile floor, sharp right, just don't ram your hip on the banister and drop the F bomb, not that I did that. Just sayin' Into the kitchen, which is now a meat locker (so glad it caught up with our radiator banging - see? still positive!), there. is. no. coffee. pot. Racing through cupboards like a I have 5 mins to live and the key to my survival lies within the shiny white formica cabinets, I see NO FUCKING COFFEE POT. WHAT KIND OF POW CAMP IS THIS?????????? NO WAY. I am DONE. Get me the hell out of here...what kind of @#% and @$!...and then, like a beacon on the bay, like the moment you see your baby for the first time, I hear the sleepy words that change my life..."I bought a french press last night and some coffee"...lyrics to my new favorite ballad, written by my knight in shining dark roast who saved this maiden from an untimely demise. Gd Save the Husband. Forget the queen, she didn't get me a french press. So here I sit, in my whistling, haunted town house, drinking coffee and feeling grateful, or hateful...watching the sun rise over the calm waters from my balcony and wondering if once the morning light hits, will I see the body. Happy Friday.


  1. Love your wifi password....all I can say is...I think I'd much rather live in Whistler's dead mother's house than constantly be worried about the skittering of cocka-roaches across my feet while I you remember that movie back in the 70's or 80's where the guy was really rich (like Howard Hughes) and he hated bugs and germs and he finally relegated himself to this time acrylic room with just a white leather bed/bench and a vent for oxygen and then suddenly millions of roaches came through the vent and surrounded him and he couldnt' get out and then the whole clear acrylic room was roaches and he was, I guess, devoured? Ah..good times...anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, I'd much rather have a whistling ghost house over bugs. Do you have any sheet music you could leave out so the ghost could learn a tune to change things up a bit...or, perhaps, like in BIG you could learn to play the creaks on the stairs? Thoughts? :)