I am a mean, mean wife

Ok, once more I come to the conclusion that I am a mean, mean wife. As I write this, I am gasping trying to catch my breath I have been laughing so hard.

 I know my husband likes to read Harry Potter fanfic, so just a couple minutes ago when I learned online that there is actual fanfic of male pregnancy, I strode into the bedroom to tell Ron about it. Then I shake my head at him and say, you know, everyone thinks the grass is greener on the other side. 

And I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed where he is lying and reading, saying 'but this particular grass is not that fun' (referring to pregnancy) as I reach over and I pull on one (or more) of his belly hairs as I say 'and labor pain is a lot worse than this!' and he yelps in pain (I am SO mean) and I laugh and he looks indignant, then he scowls at me; I whoop and run through the house and he chases me. He corners me in the office, he tries to pull certain of my hairs as I am laughing uncontrollably and dodging his hands....and his face is red and he is laughing too and we kiss and he goes back to bed, to read more Harry Potter fanfic.

 And lucky me, no teenagers in existence to roll their eyes at our antics. That was fun.  
Next month, married 21 years!

Its the Little Things

In the Out-Of-The-Blue department, I confide here that in the course of our 20-year marriage, we have, over a decade ago, with the help of a marriage counselor, determined that we must always hire someone else to mow the lawn.

It was one issue that was a cause of the majority of tension, anger (ok, more like fury) arguments and resentment for both of us.
Now, we happily pay someone else to do it, and our marriage is much more peaceful for it. We still have disagreements over other issues, but nothing like the ongoing summer-long battles over the lawn.
  And for some reason, it doesn't translate over to snow-shoveling,  even though we live in Minnesota; he is always willing to shovel the drive and I am always willing to sweep off the porches and throw handfuls of salt down.

 But grass....grass is the enemy in our marriage.

Geek Love

So yeah Ron and I are geeks, nerds and married almost 21 years. Tonight we had a great pillowtalk about the Lawful Good - Chaotic Evil alignment system and attempted to use it to class people and characters we know or have known...such as Dan Savage, Peter Hollens, Dr. Daniel Jackson (SG1), Friday Jones (from Heinlein), Chris Kluwe, Rachel Maddow, George Zimmerman, Edward Snowden, John Boehner, the Boston bombers vs. suicide bombers, my old DnD character that was an illusionist-thief and practical joker.....you know, as you do. And half the time of this chat, I was giving the husband oomox. (That is not dirty, its just nerdy.) 

So yeah, Geek Love, that's what we got right here. So any of you young awkward geeks or nerds, take comfort, loving relationships are not out of your reach. So who is looking forward to CONvergence this weekend? 

Guide on Alignments

The Alignment System

Wil Wheaton Gives Us All a Message of the Heart

Ok this may not seem relevant to you right at first, but it is if you listen to it, Wil Wheaton speaks to every person on the planet technically, with the most awesome, sincere, and humorous message about being who you are and doing what you love to do.

 It started when baby Violet's mom was at a convention and asked Wil to give a message she could record about why its cool to be a nerd...and thus we are all gifted with this 4:14 message.

 I intend to share it on all my social media today and my blog page, I never want to forget this. 

http://youtu.be/H_BtmV4JRSc            http://youtu.be/H_BtmV4JRSc

My husband's experience with a haunted house in Idaho

[I realize this telling is a little jerky, because I kept having to consult with my husband on various details, to be sure I got the story right, to the best of my ability.]

Ok this really happened to my husband in Idaho around 1988.  A family of 5 people had rented a house and after living there a while, things got too creepy from being haunted and decided to just move out as fast as they could. My husband was one of the dozen or more helping them move out.   Most of these details they learned later that night, when they shared these stories amongst themselves while resting, at the new house.

Two of the helpers were sisters who were actually psychic. There were five or six vehicles, and it was autumn but not yet chilly.  Its a two story house with a basement, on a normal neighborhood street with houses on each side. 

So the helpers, once they arrive around 6pm, its getting dark out, and they start moving furniture into  the trucks as the family continued to pack frantically.  At some point one of the helpers needs to make a phone call, a family members says the phone is in the living room, pointing that way.  The helper goes to the front room, which by this time was empty of furniture, a couple packed boxes still to be taken out...but no phone.  The helper looked behind the drapes, behind the boxes, in the closet, no phone anywhere, so he figured the phone must have been packed already, shrugged and went back to moving stuff out. 

Much later, hours later, during a last walk-through to make sure things hadn't been missed, this helper walks into the now completely empty living room to check for anything left behind, and there, in that empty room, on the floor, along the wall, was the phone.....where he knew it had not been before.  So he picks up the phone to make a call...and the phone is COLD AS ICE.  His words were, 'as cold as if someone had put it in the freezer'.  

=====

Another helper packed the main floor bathroom, the shower curtain, the bath-rug, all the toiletries, stacking the filled boxes out in the hallway to be moved to the truck by someone else.  She checks the medicine cabinet, under the sink, inside the tub, makes sure she got everything out, she turns out the light and closes the bathroom door, picks up a box and takes it out.

Much later, during the final walk-through, that same woman is checking the rooms for anything left behind.  She knows the bathroom is empty, because she packed it herself, but as she is walking down the hallway, she notices the light of the bathroom is on, under the closed bathroom door.  So she opens the bathroom door to turn off the light...and on the mirror, in lipstick, is written "We are ARCO".  So she calls to the female renter of the house to come see, and both agree neither of them own that shade of lipstick color.

======

Upstairs, others were hastily packing up bedrooms, making sure closets were packed and windows securely closed, setting full boxes in the hallway to get taken downstairs. 

Later, during the final walk-through, someone opens the bedroom doors, one by one, walks in, checks closet one last time, turns out the light, closes door after them.  One of the bedrooms, he opens the door, the light is already on, and the window-shade is pulled all the way down, and there is a single wire clothes hanger that has been poked through the shade, as tho someone had pinched the shade and pushed the wire through both thicknesses of the shade.  He leaves it there, turns off the room light, closes the door.  (Later, at the new house, the owners confirm, they never owned any wire hangers, theirs were all plastic hangers.) 

======

Now, its getting to the end, most stuff packed in boxes and on trucks or in cars. (There were at least a couple of cars getting loaded out in the back alley as well.)  People are throughout the house, some lights are on, some are off.  Upstairs most bedroom lights are off but the hall light is on, for instance.  Outside its fully dark, about 11 pm, but there is a little light from the moon and porch lights dimly from neighboring houses.  People are loading vehicles by the light of the porch light and one street lamp, people carrying boxes and items out have been trying all evening to just move quickly, to focus on the packing and moving so as not to notice too many of the obviously creepy things going on in the house around them. The mood is tense, and people are tired and nervous.  

AND THEN SUDDENLY THE ENTIRE HOUSE GOES DARK. Freaked out, screaming, every person runs for the door nearest them, so half end up out the front door, half out the back door.

Husband is with the group in back, they are clustered together, staring back at the dark house, everyone asking what is going on and grasping at each others arms and clothes out of fear. 

AND THEN THEY HEAR A LOUD SCREAM.  To the group in back, it sounds like it came from someone out front; to the group in front, it sounds like it came from in back!  So both groups of people run towards the other, meeting at the side of the house, hearts pounding with adrenaline, no one knowing what was going on, everyone is talking excitedly but quietly when...

SUDDENLY THE LIGHTS IN THE HOUSE GO ON AGAIN.  But...they notice that now, all the lights that had been on were now off, and the lights that were off were now on. The upstairs, all the bedroom windows were lit up...but going in, the upstairs hall light was off.  

======

At this point, since everyone is outside anyway, the renters decide they can't handle anything else, that's it, just lock the doors and lets go, anything left inside is not important.  So half go to the vehicles in the front, and half go to the vehicles in the back (all in a clustered groups, no one wanted to be left alone at that point). My husband was in the group in back. So was the woman renter. As vehicles are starting their engines, she goes to close and lock the back door of the house, reaching for the door handle but she stops.  The back porch light is off, but the mudroom light is on, and the kitchen, beyond it, is well lit too. And there sitting on the kitchen counter, roughly 20 feet from the back door, IS HER PURSE. 

 She stands there, outside the door, silent for a moment, as she stares at her purse on the counter, sitting there like it is bait on a hook. She is afraid to step foot in the house, but knowing there is no way you can leave a purse behind.  A purse holds everything, credit cards, to-do lists, photos of the children.

My husband and a couple other helpers notice her and goes to her to see what is wrong. She tells them, her purse is in there, its right there, able to be seen clearly from the doorway, and she is afraid to go get it but she can't leave it behind.

So my husband, he decides he will be the one to go in and get the purse, just real quick, in and out, and in full view of everyone watching from the doorway. It can't be that far, maybe 20 feet from the door to the purse. Should be easy, right?  

So my husband goes, quick, easy, through the mudroom, into the kitchen, grabs the purse quick and turns back toward the door with purse tucked under his arm...and suddenly he feels two icy cold hands on his shoulders, heavy, very heavy, holding him back.  Moving toward the front door is like he is walking in wet sand, like he is in slow motion, and the short walk to the purse that took only seconds, now took much longer to get back to the safety of the people outside.  His heart was pounding in his chest, the kitchen and hall lights seemed to be far too bright as he he fought hard to get back outside, fighting against the cold hands holding him back. Once outside, the three others said he looked extremely pale. He says he felt pretty shaky at that point.

Ok now they lock the back door, leaving all the lights on inside, no way was anyone going back inside that house tonight.  They secure the loads on the trucks and cars and they leave, driving together down the street to the new house.  The woman renter, the wife, she is driving alone in her car, leading the procession of cars, trying not to get too far ahead because she knows not all the drivers know the way to the new place, but she is a little ways ahead, and SUDDENLY HER STEERING WHEEL STOPS WORKING....AND HER BRAKES. 

 The car is still moving, maybe 30 mph, she panics (as would I in her situation!) she can't steer, can't brake, but straight ahead the road ends in a field, so her car ends up stopped, 50 feet out in the field, she turns off the key quickly and reaches for the door handle to get out of the car.  But the car door won't open! Its unlocked but it won't open!  She really starts freaking out, screaming, crying, yanking at the door handle, pounding on the window to get out, just from fear....and her husband runs up to her car door, and he yanks on the door handle from the outside and its not working either, then my husband runs to the passenger door side and EXACTLY the moment he opens the passenger side door, the driver's side door finally opens as well. 

===============

Ok so my husband and the two renters are standing next to a car in a field, late at night, in the dark, and all the others in the procession park their cars and run to the car in the field.  Now the two psychic sisters speak up and say they have determined that, somehow, the family's pet hamster, whose cage is in this lead car driven by the woman, is somehow possessed and has caused the car malfunction.   

Now, its been 25 years since this happened, so husband is not clear on what happened exactly next, but its possible they decided to let the hamster out of the cage, to go free into the field. He doesn't remember that they killed the hamster but that is also possible. After freeing, or killing the hamster, the car worked fine, the male renter drove the car out of the field and the procession went on to the new house without any further problems. My husband says this does not imply that the hamster caused the issues at the house, just the car. 

Every day for three weeks after that, my husband was drawn, compelled beyond his own will, to drive past that haunted house two or three times a day for three weeks, to stop in the street for five or ten minutes, JUST TO STARE AT THAT CREEPY HOUSE.        'The End' 

Yummy artisan bread 'Sicilian' from the Hy Vee in Faribault

 

Ok its way past time for an explanation of why I have a photo of a loaf of artisan bread on my blog.

I have ADD.  This means, among other things, that my memory doesn't work really well. So I am always keeping notepads of notes, calendaring every little event past, present and future, and at the time, this was a handy way to help me to remember where I could go back and get this delicious bread, and that it exists, in case I ever wish to try to duplicate its salty beauty.  

[I think they brushed on those tips some Toasted Sesame Oil before baking; I love Toasted Sesame Oil, my favorite condiment.] 

But I discovered it at a grocery far from my home, 2.5 hours into our 11.5 hour trip home to Kansas, to bury my mother, who died on Memorial Day, May 28, 2012.