The Case Of The Missing Poncho

Last night was hard. All the clothes I wanted to wear today went missing and I had to spend hours looking for them. Well, a good part of an hour. That is a long time to be searching for clothes when you live in a small house with lmited space. How many places could they be?

The first item to go missing was my new black Ann Taylor poncho. I thought it was in my top dresser drawer with all my other wraps. After searching several places, I developed the following theories:

1. The pup had dragged it into the backyard and buried it
2. I accidentally threw it away
3. It got trapped somewhere in the bedding when I made the bed
4. don dokken hated it and hid it somewhere (there has been precedent on this one; well, maybe even on all of them.)

I looked under the furniture and stripped the bed. The pup loves when the bed is stripped and made because he thinks it is a game just for him. Thankfully before I actually dug up the whole backyard, went through all the dirty garbage, or left an accusatory message on don dokken's machine, I found the poncho in my pajama drawer. I am sure I put it there I just can not remember the logic.

I then turned my attention to the top I wanted to wear. Last year at the Ann Taylor's in Houston I bought the same top in pink and black. Either one of them would have worked but both of them had gone missing. I looked through both my closets and all my sweater drawers several times. Theories on these:

1. I had clothes at the dry cleaner that I forgot about. Need to call them.
2. I had stuck them somewhere that I could not remember because they needed to go to the dry cleaners.
3. The cleaning lady had washed them and left them out in the laundry room.
4. The cleaning lady had ruined them by washing them when they needed to be dry cleaned and had thrown them away.
5. I accidentally threw them away.

I began the process of painstakingly dismantling one of my closets and my patience paid off because after clearing out just one side of one closet I came upon the pink top. I felt victorious and exhausted and had a mess in the bedroom so I did not continue the search for the black top. It will show up.

The Things I Did Not Do

So I guess it's winter? At least that is what the weather here would indicate. And I am so unprepared. Here are all the things I did not do:

• This summer I cleaned out my drawers and closets and eliminated sixteen bags of clothes. Apparently they were mainly winter clothes. And I did not replace them. Learn from my mistakes. Do not discard clothes until their applicable season. In other words, it is easy to think you do not need your winter clothes when it is a gazillion degrees hot outside. I have nothing warm to wear. Oh, and I leave for Chicago in two weeks from yesterday.
  

• I did not have my furnace serviced. I tried turning on the heat last night and did not like the smell. I know it is probably normal but I would prefer that someone certify that the house will not burn down as a result of me flicking the heater switch.
  

• I did not have my trees trimmed. So now it is windy and rainy and they are rubbing up against roofs and wires and danger, danger.
  

I might have a chance to redeem myself. They say this storm will end today and it looks like a few sunny days ahead in which I can call the furnace service guy and the tree trimmer guy and hope that I get in before all the other people who neglected to do their maintenance with the timeliness that used to be mine. Obviously I got too distracted by the bathroom.

It's A Wonderful Day In The Neighborhood

I live in a big city. But sometimes it can have the feeling of a small town. Like yesterday. Every Saturday morning I try and go for a monster walk, sometimes stopping at a coffee house to read the newspaper and have breakfast. A healthy breakfast to go along with the healthy walk.

Yesterday morning I was on my walk and ran into Stephanie and Patrick who had just moved to a building along my walk route. They themselves were walking back from the local Starbucks which they proclaimed to be their first and last visit. I saw their new apartment and then continued on my way.

When I was four blocks away from my house, a brand new Toyota Solara convertible pulled up alongside me. At first I thought someone was needing to ask me directions and then I realized that it was my neighbor, Jeff. He called the car his "midlife" crisis car and, you all, I hope that if you ever have a midlife crisis you do better than a Toyota Solara with a baby seat in the back, okay? He said he was on the list for a Prius but the wait was too long. And for all you environmentalists out there, this is a huge coup. His former car was a Ford Expedition. Yes, one of those ginormous American big cars. And he was the only one I cut slack for having one because he really used that thing for hauling and building and towing and going to snowy moutainous places and lakes and stuff. But now even he has come over from the dark side. He gave me a ride the rest of the way home, came to see my new ab fab bathroom, and plotted on how we can buy the Crazy Cat Lady's house.

It was raining this morning but the sun looks to be out and I might just take another monster walk and bring food to Stephanie and Patrick because that's just how it is in my little neighborhood.

Turbulence and Ginger Ale

For anyone who might have been wondering if they still have those barf bags in the seat pockets on airplanes I have the answer for you. They do! I have not been air sick since I was a kid but while flying to New York a couple of days ago I took my usual dose of Ativan and then fell asleep. And then woke up and realized that we were going through some terrible turbulence and that I was feeling the nauseousness that only comes with motion sickness. Someone suggested that maybe the Ativan was the cause but I looked it up and Ativan is actually prescribed for cancer treatment related nausea. So I think it might have been even worse without the Ativan.

So let me just say for the bazillionth time, thank God for the Ativan. And not just because without it I may have used all the barf bags in all the seat pockets. Some time after we took off the pilot made an announcement that we might have to turn back to Los Angeles because there was something wrong with the landing gear door. Instead of flipping out I just thought to myself "that would be a drag" and went back to sleep. And happily I was so out of it I could not even tell you if we did go back to Los Angeles though I suspect not.

We flew home from Newark, the last flight on a Friday night. The airport was packed, it was raining, and we waited and waited and no plane came to our gate. For some reason, the flight crew kept walking by our group and chatting with us. I recommend chatting with the pilot whenever possible. When we asked him where the plane was, he said he didn't know but pointed to one on the tarmac and suggested we just run out and take it. When a woman in our group said her husband told her to tell him to fly safely, he got all disappointed and said he had been planning to fly recklessly and now that was ruined. I asked him if he was expecting turbulence and he told me to go to the TGIF's and get some ginger ale. Not 7-up, it had to be ginger ale, because the special ingredient is the ginger. And you have to drink it before you even think you might get sick because once you start feeling nauseous it is too late.

I did not get the ginger ale but between the awesome pilot and the awesome Ativan I slept through the whole flight. I am tired but happy to be home.

Yucca

The things you learn when you are home celebrating the Jewish New Year. And, by the way, welcome to the year 5766. It sure has gone by quickly. Now go eat some apples and honey and have a sweet New Year.

What I have learned today is that random people seem to wander my neighborhood with a keen interest in arbor. Early this morning I was greeted by a wild-eyed man who told me he is a tree nurturer and he has come to my neighborhood looking for people who might want to pay him to nurture their trees. He specifically chose this neighborhood because the people of this neighborhood look like they care about the way their trees are nurtured. I told him that I already have someone who takes care of my trees and that I am very loyal. He then whipped out a piece of lined notebook paper and wrote down the name of his company "Proper Tree Care" and his phone number although he did admit that it appears that all my trees have been properly cared for and were not like the "top-hatted" trees that you sometimes see.

He started to walk away and then caught a glimpse of the Crazy Cat Lady's house and her overgrown fig tree and another tree on her property that apparently was just the "top-hatted" kind of tree cutting that he was warning me about. He went running over to her house in glee.

Awhile later the pup started barking crazily and I peeked out of the window to see a woman tearing off a flowering branch of my yucca tree. This has happened before. In fact, my old neighbor once got really mad at her gardener because he cut a flower off my yucca tree without asking. By the way, this yucca tree is actually a crazy palm/yucca hybrid which I really do not like very much but would never pull out because it is so unique. But back to all the hullabaloo over the flowers that said tree spawns. Here is what the flower looks like:



My neighbor was convinced that there was something hallucinogenic about the yucca flower. But then I had a cleaning lady from El Salvador ask if she could take one and she told me she cooks it. So this morning when I saw the woman outside cavorting with my yucca plant I went outside to get the true story.

She was embarrassed to be caught taking the flower so she told me that it was mine and that she would teach me what to do with it. This all happened between her broken English and my broken Spanish except that my Spanish was way more broken than her English. She showed me how to tear apart the flower and then said to warm it in water. You then fry it with lettuce, tomato, onions, bell peppers, and butter.

I had to ask her about the alleged psychedelic properties but this was difficult to do as the only word I could think of was "loco." So I kept saying "loco" and making the crazy sign with my finger and she said "it won't hurt you." She said that this is what the poor people in El Salvador eat. I asked her if she lived or worked in the neighborhood and she said no, that she sells pupusas. I could not figure out how she found my yucca. In the end, of course I told her to take the flower. She said she is going to cook it and bring me some tomorrow.

The Finished Product

Thanks to Carol for the pictures. One thing hard to capture in a photo is the sunken tub where I plan to spend the rest of my days taking bubble baths, drinking wine, and completing Sudoku puzzles. The only problem is that the pup will not come anywhere near me when I am in the bathtub for fear that I will try and give him a bath. Oh well, I will miss him.