Is Mercury retrograde? (Answer: No.) Something else must explain why I spent the weekend going from one sweaty-head interval to the next, slept badly, felt like I worked the whole damn time and still managed to slip on the sidewalk while walking the dog. The sidewalk in question was coated with a thin layer of mud, thanks to a recent sprinkler installation. No one in my neighborhood drags a sprinkler around the yard anymore; in-ground automatic watering systems are the only thing for a striver to have.
(The Derringers, with their laissez-faire attitude toward lawn care in general, are the Problem House of the ‘hood. Both of us have done too much environmental reporting to give a fat rat’s ass about lawns.)
In my neighbor’s case, the night after the old lawn was peeled off and taken away and before the new one was installed, enough rain fell to wash a fair amount of topsoil onto the sidewalk. I hit it in the murky moments of dawn yesterday and went sprawling. The only good thing to report is a) my injuries were limited to a scrape or two; and b) the string of curses I unleashed woke the family dog, who barked loudly and, I devoutly hope, roused the whole household.
I mean, the lawn went in days ago. Someone should have taken the time to wash away the mud.
And while the weather was unseasonably warm, it was accompanied by a certain Gulf of Mexico-ish humidity. Alan spent the weekend tearing up underbrush for a coming fence installation in the back yard, and looked like he was dredging oysters without waders.
In between these toe-curling episodes of excitement, there was a rotisserie chicken and some fine dishes from my Eastern Market foray. Made Alice Waters’ fresh shell-bean gratin and a shitload of brussels sprouts.
There was also homecoming. After freshman year, when we paid too much for a dress that wouldn’t be worn twice, I got a little smarter about the whole thing. Last year we found a $27 special from Forever 21 that wasn’t quite dressy enough on its own. But I was raised by a seamstress, and thought I could improve it immensely with a black satin sash, which I made myself from the best polyester satin I could find at the fabric store. We saved it, and found this year’s dress on ModCloth for a similarly modest sum. Out came the sash again, and I don’t know about you, but I think it works pretty well (this year’s model is the red one; the blue is year one of Project Sash):
You can see I also skimped on hairdressing this year, but so what? They had a great time, and went to a better restaurant beforehand. Some of the homecoming frocks I saw on my Facebook news feed look like ho gear. At least she looks cute and age-appropriate, and take off the sash, add a regular belt and shoes, and it’s a regular old dress again.
And it didn’t cost me $100.
I don’t really have much bloggage today, but if you missed Cooz’ comment late yesterday, you missed something great. Go read.
Never waste a good crisis, smart leaders say. And if necessary, you can always invent one.
A great week ahead, I hope. Let’s try to stay perpendicular to the pavement, eh?