seryan

It was just the door lock. Ten minutes and I had a working washer again. So now I'm spending the day catching up on about 2 weeks worth of washing, less what I did by hand. (Which would be all the underwear and socks and which is NOT recommended unless you absolutely must.)

I also spontaneously decided to clean under the bed. This is something I have to be spontaneous about more often, it seems. I shall plan for it.

Actually getting the bees exterminated has, so far, been the simplest thing that happened in the past five days. The most difficult part was popping the screen out of one of the living room windows to run the cord in for the pump thing. (There isn't an outlet on the outside of the house.) Guy showed up, checked the places we'd seen bees, treated the hive, packed up his equipment, and I paid him. Then I walked down the street, turned the corner, and caught the bus with only about a ten second wait at the bus stop. I was on time for the quarterly meeting, and the whole thing took place over my lunch break, meaning I don't even have to make up time.

According to the exterminator (or bee hitman) we might keep seeing bees for up to two weeks. He'll come back and check periodically & we can call him back if we see them after that timeframe's passed.

While we were waiting for the four hour all clear to pass we went for dinner and had this conversation.

Steve: If you get back tonight and I'm dead? I was a bee.
Me: No you weren't, because bees obey their queen.
Steve: Yes, and do you know what that means?
Me: You make a very poor bee.
Steve: ...it means you're not a queen.
Me: You say that, but I don't think it's right.

Steve checked the next day and was worried because there were still bees flying around the entrance to the hive. He checked the basement and didn't see any bees, but could still hear them buzzing angrily when he thumped on the wall in the workshop. (It's seriously weird, it sounds like the wall is growling in the voice of the Legion.) I did the same check last night and it was more like one or two whining so I think we're OK even if the problem wasn't fixed instantly. Bumblebees are seriously freaking loud.

Now we're just waiting on the washer to be fixed, and the part should be in in a few days. We'll have to handwash some socks and underwear and put them up on the drying rack - the clothes line is also broken - but that's hardly the end of the world. One of Steve's friends has offered us the use of her washer and dryer when she gets back from a trip next week so that's good too. I think I'll bring her zucchini bread as a thank you, or maybe some fresh herbs. (So much basil, so much delicious basil...)

So there are bees in the basement now.

Steve caulked up the hole in the windowsill where we thought they were getting in. Proving that we're screwed if the hive mind ever takes an SF turn, the bees promptly began to look for another way out. They found it! Remember how the top half of the foundation is cinderblock? Remember what cinderblock looks like, with the holes? Yeah, they found a way to move through the foundation into the section of the basement where the walls are not finished to the top. There's a good six to eight inch gap between drywall and ceiling. We were downstairs last night moving the dryer off the washer, since you have to unstack them before the tech shows, and there was a bee! We're like, ok...bee. Just one. We caught it in a jar and released it outside and didn't think much of it.

Why yes that is the same mistake people in horror movies make! We'd just set down the dryer in it's temporary new spot when Steve stood bolt upright, looked at me and said:

"Shh! Do you hear bees?"

We looked and I saw a bee climbing over the edge of the drywall. I pointed. "There, there!"

"Where? Where is it!?"

"There!"

We caught him and put him outside as well. That wasn't the end of it. Of course it wasn't. I went down this morning to tidy a few things away and there were two more bees. They were up near the ceiling where I couldn't get them. (And I don't trust myself standing on a stepstool with a glass jar trying to catch a flying, stinging insect.) But I figured hey, one or two bees, no big deal. They're not hornets or wasps, they'll not sting you if you leave them alone. And yes, like the twit in the horror movie, I was hoping they'd go away.

No. The first words out of the repairman's mouth? "You have bees down here?" So I had to apologize and explain to him that this was a new development we hadn't had time to look after yet. He did the diagnostics and determined the washer needs a new locking mechanism, which is - dun dun dun! - on order. He also refused to come back until the bees are gone. Since I'm refusing to go into the basement for the same reason I don't blame him. There were four bees, this time, buzzing around the light and the basement, trailing little bits of insulation from their legs like tiny flying mummies or zombies. Zom-bees...

I called Steve and he wanted to find a way to block the hole up. I was like, "no, because apparently they can and will make holes in drywall to get out we are calling the exterminator." And then I did. They're coming tomorrow. (It was that or two weeks from now and this will not solve itself by waiting.) I feel bad, because I like bees and they aren't doing so well, species-wise, right now, but at the same time having a fucking hive in the foundations of the house is just a huge problem waiting to happen. Apart from the bees, the honey can attract other insects and predators and I just do not need that. Sorry, bees.

Then, after I called the exterminator and made the appointment for tomorrow, I realized that tomorrow is supposed to be the quarterly meeting at work. The exterminator comes at one, the meeting is at two. Unless this is the speediest pest treatment ever, I probably can't make it on time, and I can't just log in from home because you need to vacate the house for four hours after the treatment. I can't reschedule, because again a) two weeks and b) washer that won't be repaired while bees are present. So I get to call my boss and explain that I have to work from home tomorrow and might be late to the meeting because of bees. (I also can't make it to the company dinner tonight, but weeks before I had made other plans that I can't move, so that's too bad.)

This would be rejected if it were fiction. I'm sure of it.

Steve removed eight bees from the basement tonight. He also removed the caulking from the original hole, because if we must have foundation-bees, we'd rather they go outside thank you very much. I can tell they're back and guarding because when I went out to try and weed the side garden (which tends to get left because you can't really see it) that runs along that side of the house? They chased me. I don't care if bees are mostly harmless, they're not when they're defending their hive and I don't want them to get defensive.

So I got chased by bees. How's your night going?

Fridge: My seal's going to fail and I'm going to fill up with condensation, alright?
Foundation; S'okay if a hive of bees sets up in me, right?
Washer: Yeah...I don't think I want a functioning door-lock. It's not a problem if I break down in the middle of the final spin cycle, right?
Me: *facepalm*

I'm not even kidding about the bees. That's what bugs me most. Fridge going? Normal problem. Malfunction on the washer? Call the repair guy and maybe have to go to a laundromat or bribe a friend with baked goods for loan of their machines. BEES IN THE WALL? WHO EVEN HAS BEES IN THE WALL? HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN? (The foundation is poured concrete on bottom, cinderblock on top, and they seem to have taken advantage of a hole in the exterior window caulking of one of the basement windows and a flaw in a brick. It doesn't help that it's not the original foundation. But still. BEES. IN. THE. WALL.) You can put your ear to the workroom wall and hear them buzz. It's just...it's the weirdness of it that bothers me. Who does this happen to?

We had to replace the fridge. Getting the new one in the house and the old one out was less of an adventure than doing so with the washer and dryer; no interior doors, doorframes, or banisters needed to be removed although the delivery guys did need to take the doors and hinges off the fridge to get it in.

We built new steps for the back deck. The steps are unpainted and do not match the deck, but they function so that's good enough. It's not like we can use them for about half the year anyway, or that you can see them from the street. Replacing the whole deck involves figuring out how it's attached to the house, if it is, removing it, and probably leveling the ground, part of which is paved. Plus, it was clearly built by...enthusiastic amateurs and we're not sure we want to try and figure out how to safely undo whatever they did. We don't want to do it unless we absolutely have to.

I put a garden in again this year, half vegetables and half herbs, roughly. I have two lovely basil plants out there, growing very enthusiastically, and practically begging to be made into pesto, sauces, salads, dressings...mmm. I did not attempt tomatoes this year, since mine never ripen. The former herb bed got taken over by the mint and now I think it's trying to take over the lawn. Which would smell lovely, but is not exactly what I want. Always plant your mint in a container so it can't escape! There's seriously about a 3x4 area patch of mint out there, and it's trying to spread. I have no idea what I'll do with it all, as you can only drink so many mojitos. Possibly see if I can try and make peppermint essential oil - which is lovely for your hair BTW - out of it. I've moved some mint to a planter (better late than never) and I think in the fall I'll dig it up, line the bed with newsprint, and use it as a compost area the following year, then a regular garden bed the year after.

I did not make the same mistake with the perennials I planted this year. They're in separate containers. I can be taught.

Apparently, when able to spend my own money and buy things to my taste, I go for shiny/sparkly and embroidered. My bedroom curtains are satin-y, my office curtains  have a touch of shimmer to some of the panels plus embroidery with sparkles, and the cushions I just bought for the new couch/bed/thingy in the office (officially it's called a Klik-Klak bed, but I have a Thing about cutesy spelling) are shimmery with embroidery and sequins! Not many sequins, just  few here and there. Three of the cushions are shades of lavender, and these have the sequins and embroidery, and two of them (for accent) are a pale gold color. The lavender cushions complement the curtains.

Apparently when left to my own devices I go girly. It's kind of...unexpected. Although, when I was little I did want lots and lots of cushions on my bed - I think I must have seen something like that in one of the old movies Mom used to watch after church. Now, I have them on my couch where I don't have to move them every time I want to sleep. So, delayed/deferred wish fulfillment?

( If you're curious, pictures. Collapse )
I'm thinking I'll paint the walls of the office a cream color. Does anyone have pointers on painting a room with angled walls? (It's an attic, essentially. Surprisingly few people have made madwoman jokes when I point out I spend most of my time in an attic room.) No yellow wallpaper.

I'm convinced of it, because I live in a house that dates from '47. Had a new futon/sofabed/thing delivered today and the delivery guys gave up getting it up the stairs after twenty minutes and taking everything off my hallway walls. Fortunately, the mattress was attached to the box only with bolts, and Steve and I were able to take it apart, bring it upstairs, and reassemble it. The stairs are narrow, with a 45 degree corner at the bottom, and a high railing. Getting anything larger than a mid-size bookshelf up and down them is, as you see above, a bit of an adventure.

When you look at pictures from the 50s, all the furniture seems so huge and solid. (Except dinette sets.) Maybe it was a rebellion?

But! It is up here, and assembled, and now I not only have somewhere for guests to sleep other than an air mattress on the floor, I have private space to read in. There was no seating up here beyond a couple of swivel chairs before now, and I like to stretch out when I read. I could read in the living room or the bedroom, of course, but those are common areas. Steve's pretty good about not bothering me - unless he's bored, sometimes - but I wanted space of my own.

Plus, now I can build blanket forts and leave them up however long I please! :D Dreamcherry's coming over Tuesday to build the inaugural one. Because maturity is boring and blanket forts are awesome.

Random fact: this is the first piece of furniture I've ever bought that is a) new and b) didn't (by default) need to be assembled.

Random fact 2: My next-door neighbours, in the rental, are moving out. Who wants to move to Canada and be my neighbour? In addition to me, there's a pizza place, a comic store, and a sex shop all within walking distance. :P

Found this gem in an old post re: my previous job: "But at least the new job has never laid anyone off, or reduced their hours."

Well. We all know how that turned out, don't we? I look back over posts from that timeframe and I'm just amazed I was ever happy about getting that job, considering how it turned out. (All those mentions of booze in the Tales? Not just in there as jokes. I spent the last 3 months or so at that job getting through the day on a travel mug of coffee and rum. I couldn't keep anything else down until I was done with my shift.)

Of course, without that job, I'd never have been able to afford the house, and the cars (yes! we bought a new car!) so it wasn't all bad. I suppose.

In my office/den there is a small door that leads into the under-eave storage. Normally I have things in front of it both because I don't use it and there's no point in keeping it clear, but also because, quite honestly, it creeps me out. This isn't helped by the time I stayed up ridiculously late discussing horror on the phone with a friend, only to catch out of the corner of my sleep-deprived eye, what looked exactly like the silhouette of a person standing in front of said door reflected in the television screen. Naturally it turned out to be just the way some things were stacked, but even so I had to put my friend on hold to disassemble it and even then I kept glancing over to make sure it hadn't come back.

Intellectually, of course, I know that the door doesn't open into any kind of vortex, other plain, or any variant of dimension full of creatures waiting to break forth. It opens into a very prosaic, very narrow, very boring storage cupboard. But it's still creepy.

But today we're having work done on the house. (FiOS, yay!) I sincerely doubt the workmen will need to get into the storage area for any reason, but Steve was insistent they might and shoving a few boxes out of the way is easier than arguing. So there is now nothing in front of the door, and it's bothering me, daytime or not. I'll be fine for a while, sitting with my back to it, then I'll remember it's there and have to turn around to check it's still closed and zombies haven't come through or something.

This is what happens when you read Poe's The Black Cat at age five, don't sleep for two weeks, fall in love with the horror genre and never look back.

If I don't post again, either I've fallen off the Internet for a bit once more, or the storage-zombies got me.

It's May, for God's sake. Why do I still have to have the heat on in order to not freeze in the house? Bad enough I freeze all day at work with the air conditioning pouring down on me...

I think the contents of my in-law's basement have been largely shifted to my house. At least I have some new dishes out of the deal? And Pong. Yes. An original Pong console. I have no idea if it will even hook up to any of the TVs in the house. If it does, I will refuse to play unless by the light of the lava lamp. Because.

The daffodils have bloomed in the garden, and this morning I noticed the tulips are up. (See, weather? I have flowers. You are not to be cold.) Last I checked the herb garden, the mint was up, at least, and attempting a takeover. *ruthlessly prunes mint* I see a summer of mojitos in my future. Mmm. What else can you do with mint?

CAMs is coming up in 18 days, and I have yet to finish anything new. Lots of stuff near the painting stage, though. (If you think this means I am going to finish something that's already started - well, I might. It's not impossible. Maybe.) We've set aside a couple of days each week to work on models together. It'll be interesting to see if we a) stick to it and b) finish anything. Where 'finish' means 'on or ahead of time', as opposed to three o'clock in the morning before you have to leave at six. I'm TOLD this can happen, but I have yet to experience it. If you're in a Tims between here and Fredericton the morning of May 28 and you see a bleary redhead muttering something about coffee and drybrushing, say hello.