I Want to Build a House

Congratulations to me. I am going to build a house. On a golf course. In Castroville.

Really, Charlie is in charge of the building, and I am hoping it is more than a house, I am looking forward to helping create a home, but for the first time in my history (a fancy term for ‘life’) I get a brand new home. A place where my spirit will be the first. I wonder if it is going to be like owning a new car- you know, when you ding it or scratch is or drop a Route 44 Diet Coke in it…it causes anxiety and sadness that the once new car is now soiled and used. Will I freak out if my paint gets a mark on it? I don’t think so, I think I am going to be too happy with the newness all around me.

We bought a house on the golf course in Castroville. It is very nice and very quiet. I think it only gets rowdy on nights Charlie’s brother (who lives there as well) has a party. He likes to have mariachis at his parties, and beer. Mix in some interesting people and like Mentos in Coke… POW! A party! When I moved to Castroville 14 years ago, I bought insurance from Hazel Russell who told me she was developing the golf course. It was wonderful to visit her the other day to update my car insurance and let her know I was moving out there; something I had never thought could happen. My house on May street was old, I do have an affinity for old houses but through this last house I learned that unless you have a carpenter in your bed, or at least on speed dial, it is a burden.

Electrical stuff, plumbing stuff, shifting and settling, cracks in the walls and the ceiling falling in. I had grass like stuff in the ceiling when I first bought the house…in the CEILING!! When I renovated the house on May Street I got a call from my builder/carpenter/friend John. He said, “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” I told him to hit me with the bad news, then quickly follow-up with the good news so the bad news would not have too much time to resonate and cause my blood pressure to rise.

“Your ceiling is falling in. But! I can fix it!”

Whew! I loved the result. No more grass in the ceiling, or at least, none I could see anymore.

When my father came for a visit before he died he walked into every room of the house. I watched him- he was surveying the house. His conclusion? He said this: “Kim, can’t you raze the house and start over?”

Thanks Dad, but no. And John my carpenter/builder/friend did a great job with my house on May street, giving her a nice facelift. She looked awesome, but she was old and though I loved her, I wanted out of the relationship. Her kitchen, though functional, was just too small. The bathroom- she only had one, located in the middle of the house, like the picture of glass potty I see circulating on the internet…who can be comfortable in the bathroom when you are only two feet from the living room? And the Kitchen? And the bedrooms? And the mailbox?

I have a new respect for owning a new home. I get to pick everything as it will be custom built. I got to choose the plans, the rock, the colors.

So, why do couples get so stressed out over the process of building a home? I recently read that a very large percentage of couples who build a home hate each other by the time they get to unpack the first box. Some even divorce. I wonder how we will do…Charlie has built homes for over 30 years. Arguing with him in any way may be like arguing with the naked guy who sits on top of the mountain and waits for seekers to ask a question. Who am I to question the master?

I will question him I am sure. The cool thing is he has seen the process many many times and since he gets to unpack a box or two in the end I am sure the house we build will be awesome. I will be blogging about the journey starting with the lot search, the plan search and the first steps in building a home.

Next time- I am tired as I spent the evening looking up at lighting. I saw the light…and it was too expensive!

The Bowl

The Bowl. Remove contents only.

This is ‘The Bowl.’ Every Monday morning Mrs. Kuch (pronounced Cook) fills this bowl up with calories, I mean, snacks, for the teachers at D’Hanis ISD. Mrs. Kuch has been filling this bowl for over twenty years. Inside there is a combination of Fiddle Faddle, cheesy Chex Mix and some cheddar triangles.

She is the devil and the bowl is the devil’s tool!

Actually, Mrs. Kuch is a very nice woman who happens to be very beautiful, and very thin. She even teaches an aerobics class several times a week in D’Hanis proper…somewhere near the store and post office. She is in her sixties, but she looks remarkable, and I can only hope I am near her catagory of beauty at that age. I wonder if the bowl is insurance for her aerobic’s class attendance.

I asked Mrs. Kuch whether she ate the snacks from the bowl and she said, “Oh, I have never had a desire to eat the snacks in the bowl until recently. I think the last two months I have been walking by and grabbing handfuls at a time!” She resisted for all these years. Why is she showing weakness against her own trap now? Is she lying to me to keep me at the bowl?

Yep, Mrs. Kuch stayed away from her own trap until recently. She is now concerned about her will power.

I am angry at “The Bowl” and my own will power. If it was only filled with cheesey Chex Mix, well, I could walk right by 99 percent of the time…but add in Fiddle Faddle and guess what? I can’t seem to be able to walk by that damned bowl! And when the bowl is empty…you guessed it, Mrs. Kuch fills it right back up again. And even if she doesn’t respond to an empty bowl on Wednesday, Monday the contents will be up to the rim for the teachers to enjoy.

This bowl is my enemy. I hate the bowl for being filled with a snack I love. Some days, the bowl looks like it is laughing at me, taunting me! Did I hear the bowl call me fatty fatty no friends??

This bowl is a bully and I need to deal with it now.

“HAH! You cannot resist me!”

 I have learned through my studies on human nature that a bully can be de-clawed, and the relationship between bully and victim can change when the victim takes charge…or the bully changes. After twenty years, the snack-bowl bully isn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. What do I do? Tell someone? I tried that. I ran into the Principal’s office and told Mrs. Shipman, “There is a big bowl of snacks on the table in the teachers lounge..and it stays full!”

She laughed, “Yep and it has been there for twenty years!”

 

Everyone I told acted the same. They all accepted the bowl. It was a matter of fact, a part of D’Hanis ISD, a member of the family- part of the team.

 

They all seem to LIKE the bowl!

 

Once, about ten years ago, the bowl disappeared. Someone took it! The bowl was never returned. I imagined a poor woman, distraught over the ten pounds put on her thighs by Fiddle Faddle, took it and set it on fire to rid her life of the terror.

 

A new bowl, this bowl, replaced the missing bowl without missing a Monday.

I love the bowl, I hate the bowl.

 

Will power…where are you? I read this week that will power is a like a muscle and it needs to be exercised like a real muscle. Small temptations at first, then add on more temptations and don’t add too much at one time or your will power..will lose power! Oh, and when adding on some heavy temptations one should definitely bring a spotter!

 

I am going to try to use this bowl to work on my will power. Obviously I am weak. Obviously I need to win a few rounds.

 

Monday I have to be in my office by 7:45. We do not have the day off. The bowl will be filled and waiting on the table, just like it is pictured here:

 

Can you sense the evil?

I will try to walk on by.

 

Pray for me.

Mattresses and Christmas Trees

Twice in two days I have had to swerve my moving vehicle so I would not run into a dead, discarded tannenbaum. The once adorned tree I almost hit tonight was in the middle of a very busy four lane road. I did not see the tree until I was almost on top of it. I did not have time to react- I hit the tree right where an angel, not so long ago, sat. The first incident took place the night before last on my way home from work. It was late, the sun was setting and a car flashed its lights as it went by. I thought it was flashing me to warn me a police car was waiting in ambush, but once I turned the corner I quickly realized it was meant to warn me of a very large Christmas tree.

Why do people go to all the trouble of loading up their very dry, prickly tree, only to dump it in the middle of the road where innocent people will hit it head on causing accidents which just may result in someone being hurt or killed? Why? Why not drive it farther, to a dump or how about this…if they feel so very strongly about dumping the tree, why not (just asking) drop the darned thing on the side of the road, maybe in a field where it could decay naturally and provide a welcome habitat for all kinds of organisms?

Are the same people who are dumping their trees in the middle of the road the ones who do not put their shopping carts in the return area? Why do these people walk miles in the shopping center suddenly find it so difficult to walk twenty more feet?

Lazy asses. All of them.

I can hear the conversation, “Hey, our mattress is all worn out and full of dust mites. Let’s get a new one!” Partner in stupidity says, “Great! A new mattress sounds wonderful. I guess we should load up the old one and take it to the nearest highway before rush hour.”

Lazy asses.

Stupid asses.

Just saying.

If anyone in my family ever gets hurt because they hit a mattress or a Christmas tree, this lady just may go ballistic! I think we should all be on highway watch and if any of us who are categorized as sane see this insane behavior, we should be able to laser their lazy asses.

Please forgive my potty language tonight. Seeing a Christmas tree in the middle of the road, well, it just bugs me! Any one ever see the crime in progress?

 

 

Happy New Year!

I wrote a blog at the beginning of the holiday season on how NOT to gain weight during those special times of Thanksgiving and Christmas. I quoted my dad who would tell me that my first exercise was to ‘push away the plate’.

I did great at Thanksgiving. I even worked out the day of Thanksgiving. I logged my calories and watched my intake.

Then December first hit like the snow in the east. People started bringing food to work…stuff I love! Stuff made from SUGAR! Chocolate! Cakes! Pies! Cookies! Did I mention chocolate? I panicked a few times after a day of indulging. I had middle of the night anxiety attacks! I am now to the point where the damage is done. I gained weight during the holidays. I pushed away the plate, then I pulled it right back toward me!

Next year I get to try again. I hope I do better. What is it about sugar than opens the flood gates o’ overeating? This season, what really got me in the chute was walnut bread. Something my mom made every Christmas and my daughter made this Christmas, which really got me interested in baking a batch up as well. Yep,I can eat a few slices of walnut bread in 8 seconds. One hand on the loaf the other a fork. Eating and bullriding? Really? I must be in a sugar induced unlogical state of mind.

So, what is the plan? I received a website from a wonderful young doctor who has recently turned to a vegan diet and lifestyle. The website is: www.21daykickstart.com. The coolest thing about the program is real life pre-recorded celebrities will call and encourage those who sign up during the 21 days. Enough to make me go for it!

BUT…(or BUTT!) I just moved into Charlie’s mother and father’s home due to my new job, which I start on Monday. We took a back bedroom, put in one of our dressers, plopped in a desk, hung up some clothes and here we are. The new TV will  be hung this week and the Bravo Network will be ordered Monday. I cannot go without watching exceptionally crazy rich women- I am hooked on the Real Housewives of  Beverley Hills!

Humm…a new job, a new place to live (for now), a new town, new and old friends. I am stressed, which is desserts backwards as most of us know! I should just put a feed-bag of sugar under my chin.

I did sidn up at the local gym in Castroville: Ironhaus. I love the German spelling. I am also going to try and have some personal training sessions if they aren’t too too expensive.

But, will I kickstart? I could get a phone call from Marilu Henner, Alicia Silverstone or Mobey! Mobey would be cool!

A new diet, in a new home which belongs to someone else? I don’t know…I just may have to call Jenny again. She has been there for me before!

Oh, did I mention we are building a new home? I bought a lot on the Castroville golf course and we are very close to pouring the foundation. Some people find just doing that is a major stressor!

Recount on strssors: 1. New job. 2. New town. 3. New place to live. 4. It is in my partner’s parents house. 5. Building a new home. 6. I feel my butt growing every second of the day. 7. I am trying to NOT go for another piece of homemade jalapeno peanut brittle. 8. Did I mention new JOB??

I am a prime target for a heart attack…. or a big butt.

I got a big butt.

Again.

So it is war.

Starting Monday.

Sigh.