The Quirks That Make Me, Me

I was contemplating unpacking. The mover just called and confirmed that he’ll be in Friday Harbor sometime before noon tomorrow. (I love decisive meeting times.) I immediately started mentally arranging my new home … for at least the 37th time. One of the things I keep coming back to is the new habits that I will have to form.

If it weren’t for deliberately conditioned habits, I would never be able to find anything. For instance, in Hawaii I kept the car keys on top of the microwave. Amoeba preferred to keep them in his pocket. Since we only have the one set of keys you can see how this was a problem.

There will be other problems as well. After I shower the first several times I will finally figure out the best place to leave my glasses so I can find them later. I am blind as a bat and if I don’t have the darn things on, I cannot see to find them!  And I can’t just leave them anywhere.  I need a place safe from flapping towels and such.

Unlike Hawaii, where our room was barely wide enough for just the bed, here I know exactly where I’ll put my glasses when I go to sleep at night since we just ordered cool new night stands.  Actually, we decided to be a bit non-traditional and ordered end tables with magazine/book racks to sit on either side of the bed.  They are roomier and should hold all of our possessions.

We will also have to find our comfort zones and make our own personal sweet spots in the new furniture.  I have already scoped out the end of the love seat closest to the fireplace for myself, but I keep ending up in the dining room.  I love siting at the table.  It is brightly lit with natural sunlight since it has windows on three sides.

I am happy and excited and can’t wait to put our new home together — and in the midst of all that I am already worried about misplacing car keys, glasses and other such things.  After spending this many years with myself — and moving as many times as I have — I know that planning deliberate routines from day one is the best way to keep me sane.

Our House

We just got the ETA on our personal belongings — March 4th. Here is the living room of the house we’re not living in yet.

Welcome to our house. As you can see it is raining. Be sure to wipe your feet.

front door

Leave your shoes by the door and join us in the living room.

another angle

The couch and chair come to us courtesy of our landlords, who are very nice people.


These couches are firm, yet fluffy. I very much like them.


Here’s a view of the lunch bar and dining room. The table and chairs also come to us courtesy of Walt and Judy.

more seating

And last but not least a nice close up of the thermostat controlled fireplace.

fire place

Stay tuned for more ….

Creature Comforts for a Creature Who Loves Comfort

We spent the first night in our brand new bed and I slept like a baby.    OC says he did, too.  You have to know that’s quite amazing, because despite making Ella a comfy bed on a great big cushion, sometime in the middle of the night (typical kid)  she managed to squeeze between us.

Ella likes the big bed!

She likes the big bed!

In fact, though OC and I have been up for almost an hour, our lazy house guest is still a bed.  I suspect she’ll be up soon though, because I am on my way to making omelets for breakfast.  Ella has requested broccoli and spinach in hers.  Sounds good.

If you would like Ella to visit you, contact Melli at Insanity Prevails.  She is Ella’s legal guardian and travel agent.

One Year Later

OC and I just passed our one year anniversary as a cohabitating couple. A few things have changed between then and now. THEN.


I woke. OC was still asleep. I left the room quietly so I wouldn’t disturb him.

In the living room I read my email, checked my feed reader, and commented on a few blogs. OC slept. I went into the kitchen and emptied the dishwasher. He slept. I got the waffle iron out, mixed up some batter — from scratch! — and set the table. OC slept. I mixed some orange juice. He slept.

I returned to the couch, leaned forward to retrieve my laptop from the coffee table, and looked up to see an intruder come through the lanai door. OC slept.

I stared at the intruder in terror and thought briefly about screaming, but that’s too much drama even for me. Instead I lept from the couch, dashed to the kitchen, grabbed the bug spray, and blasted the intruder with at least a half a cup! The intruder writhed on the floor in agony. OC still slept!

I grabbed a piece of old newspaper and bundled the intruder up in it, squeezing until I was certain it was well and truly dead. OC slept.

Having vanquished the intruder, I headed to the bathroom for a well deserved shower. OC slept. However, when I emerged from the bathroom, he was awake and ready to start the day. He was overjoyed to see the waffle iron out. I plugged it in and took the condiments from the fridge. OC sat on the couch and opened his lap top.

I said, “We had an intruder this morning.”

OC looked up with great concern. “Who? Wha–”

“A centipede,” I said.

OC looked around. “Where?”

I pointed at the can of bug spray. “I murdered it.”

“Oh,” OC said. His attention returned to his laptop.

“It tried to murder me,” I said. “And you slept right through it!”

OC grunted.

“Hey,” I said. “It could have killed me. You’d have come out here and found my dead body on the floor and the centipede doing high kicks on my nose.”

OC looked up from his computer, raised his eye brows and said, “Right.”

“You are the hero,” I said. “It’s your job to save me. You’re not supposed to be asleep when I am in mortal peril.”

“Uh-huh,” he answered, eyes still on his computer.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I queried.

“When’s breakfast?” He asked hopefully.

* * *

Happy Anniversary, OC. I love you. Aren’t you glad to have me?