Monday, May 14, 2012

Mother's Day & Chopping Tables

I'm determined that I must write a post today, lest the quality of this blog be utterly reduced to my sister's rants. 

It's been a busy week, so I'm trying to decide what to include and what to leave out.  I think I'll go ahead and write about Mother's Day, the lizard, and the rat.  I think I'll leave out my Builders Club Award's Night and all of the stuff I've been doing to prepare for my summer job, which I find interesting but you'll find boring.

Okay, Mother's Day.  As Shan mentioned, we took my mom and dad out for an early dinner on Saturday.  It was so much fun.  We ordered this incredibly delicious wine called...crap, I can't remember what it was called.  But it was crisp and smooth which just the right touch of sweetness.  We ended up going through two bottles.  After dinner, we decided to walk the mall for a little while.  The text I sent Clint at this particular moment said "We're walking the mall attempting to sober up. :-)"  At the mall we met up with Jeremy and the kids, and somehow we all wound up in a shoe store where I'm pretty sure everyone in our party bought shoes.  After leaving the mall, I went back to my car to discover that I had locked my keys inside.  No surprise there.  I called Triple A and one of their guys came out and retrieved my keys.  The guy was very chivalrous and a little flirty.  Later, I was thinking how great a profession AAA would be for a man.  90% of the time, they're rescuing females from stupid mistakes like draining our batteries or leaving our keys locked in our cars, and they come out of the whole thing looking like knights in shining armor.

On Sunday, Clint, the kids, and I did a little shopping, and then went to my favorite sushi restaurant (the one half-way up the mountains in the middle of nowhere).  After we came back, I reupholstered six dining room table chairs.  It was supposed to be eight, but I ran out of fabric.  This job was grueling.  My Fiskars wouldn't cut through the fabric (it was ivory-colored vinyl), so I ended up having to use a bare razor blade.  Since the razor had no handle, this meant having to push hard into the top edge of the blade with the pads of my fingers.  I managed to cut out the pattern for six chairs without any accidents, but just the force of pushing on the top of the blade over and over again put all of these nasty little lacerations onto the pads of my fingers.  I eventually had to put band-aids on them because they were bleeding, but the thing that sucks the most is I can't text right now with these band-aids in the way.  I should be able to take them off by tomorrow and be back to merrily texting away.  But if anyone wanted to take my fingerprints right now, they'd be screwed.  You know, cuz there's such a huge probability of that happening.  Either way, my fingertips look like minced meat, but the chairs look great!  The previously stained-to-hell fabric is gone.  The next step in this project is a little more drastic...I'm going to saw off the legs of the table and chairs to make them shorter.  We have a tall bistro-style table, and Clint refuses to sit at it during dinners because his ass falls asleep since his feet can't reach the floor (his words, not mine).  So I figure a few little swipes of a chainsaw will take care of that problem.  I'll be sure to post a follow-up entry when we're out shopping for a new table because I got a little chop-happy--or hormonal--with my chainsaw.   

Oh yeah, Clint got me a beautiful little wine rack for Mother's Day.  It's sort of rustic-looking and has these metal spirals that holds four bottles of wine upside-down, sort of like bananas.  Okay, that's a terrible description.  I'll have to take a picture of it later.  The kids made me five bookmarks, but they are not your run-of-the mill bookmarks.  These ones are really hilarious and creative.  Again, I'll have to post a pic, because I can't really explain them with words.

Okay, the lizard and rat will have to wait for another time because somehow I ended up rambling about our stupid table.