Posts Categorized: Family

There’s Someone for Everyone… Even This Guy

Ed and I like going to the neighborhood thrift stores from time to time. Truthfully, the store with the best stuff, which shall remain nameless, is way over-priced. Still, it’s fun to look. Everyone looks for different things when they thrift shop. Ed looks for books. I look for furniture, light fixtures, candle sticks, and glassware. I’m also in search of an elusive Corning Ware bread pan (cornflower blue). I have one and the loaves of bread I bake with it are the most beautiful loaves known to mankind. If I had another one, I’d be a happy, happy girl. While trolling the isles on Saturday, Ed and I had one of those small moments that happen from time to time in a marriage or any long-term relationship. You know the kind I mean. The kind of moment that reinforces your bond, reassuring you that you’ve found “the one.”

Although we typically split up at the thrift store, we happened to wandering together on Saturday. As we neared the jumble of pictures and picture frames sitting on the floor in one corner of the store, Ed and I stopped short. Ed was slightly in front of me, so neither one of us could see what the other was focusing on. We didn’t say anything for a second. Then…

Me: Are we looking at the same thing?

Ed: I hope so.

Me: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Ed: I hope so.

Me: I think we should get it.

Ed: ME, TOO! [Both of us burst into fits of giggles lasting a good 5 minutes.]

This is what caught our eye, captured our imaginations and confirmed our mutually shared weirdness and decidedly “off” senses of humor. I present you with Uncle Mortimer, as we’ve chosen to call him. Yes, we bought a portrait of someone’s long-deceased family member. He’s currently occupying a place of honor in our living room. thrift store findsYou should have seen the looks we got from the other customers and the cashier when we were checking out. Everyone wanted to know why we’d buy a photo of a man we didn’t know. It was pretty clear from the looks on their faces they thought we were total freaks, which kind of made buying the thing all that much better!

The fact that we both locked eyes on Uncle Mortimer and knew we had to have him without a word passing between us, well I take that as a sign. There’s someone for everyone. Ed’s my someone and I’m his. We’re different in  A LOT of ways, but we can also let our freak flags fly (and those are some pretty big flags) without fear of judgment from each other… teasing, but no judgment…

There’s even someone for Uncle Mortimer. We’re sending him to live with our friend, William, an artist, who’ll appreciate Mortimer as much we do. The decision to send the portrait to live with William was made before we even got home. William will appreciate the campiness and see the picture as a piece of art.

On a supernatural side note, Rupert barked at the portrait off and on all weekend, sometimes while staring directly at it and sometimes while looking slightly off to one side. I’m not sure if he’s just creeped out by it or if the photo came with the actual Uncle Mortimer as an added bonus. Either way campy turned to creepy really quickly and it’s time for that thing to go!

What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever bought at a thrift store? Tell us about it. Better yet, send pictures!

A Conversation With My Mother

As a joke, I texted my mother last night asking where she planned to hang the portrait of Rupert I painted for her.

Mom: Well, I’ll hang it with all the other paintings my grands have made for me.

Me: Mother, I am NOT a grand! I demand a place of honor. Rupert and I will settle for nothing less.

Mom: How about around my neck?

Me: That will work, I suppose. I’ll have to confer with Rupert, of course.

Ok. So, she’ll kill me for saying this, but my mom’s getting a little older. I’m not sure if I actually needed to remind her that I am her REAL child, NOT her grandchild, and therefore much more important, or whether she just wants to put all the shitty homemade art she’s gifted with in one place. Either way, her final response was funny. Well played, Mom. Rupert and I are working on a necklace to hang the portrait around your neck. Call you when it’s ready!

Change Is Good

Ed has gone back to work, but because his new employer has a fairly strict social media policy, all I can say is that he is “in grocery store management.” Today, he’s actually working in a building without AC installing shelves, dairy cases, check out stands, and the like, which is CRAZY in July in Houston, but they didn’t ask me. His store opens on August 21st. (Any guesses Houstonians?)

I’m happy Ed’s working again and I know he is, too. He enjoyed having a little time off, but I think having too much time on his hands was getting old. For my part, it was nice to phone in honey-do (OR ELSE) lists from work every day, but, honestly I’m a little OCD. No matter how hard Ed tried, and he did try, he could never do things the way I would do them myself. I can be just a tad bit obsessive about how clean the house is and, well, it’s just not clean enough for me right now. As much as I griped over the last few months about the fact that I didn’t think I should have to do housework while Ed was home all day, I’m actually looking forward to getting my freaky, super-clean on again. Look out dust bunnies. I’m coming for you!

Rupert enjoying quality time with his litter-mate.

Rupert enjoying quality time with his litter-mate.

Ed going back to work means a big change for Rupert. He hasn’t ever had to stay home alone all day. Ed’s always been there with him. Rupert doesn’t like to be alone, but he’s going to have to get used to it. Ru doesn’t sleep in his kennel. He sleeps under the covers in our bed. Thankfully, he’s started to use the kennel as a “safe zone,” especially when he’s home alone. It’s where he hides his bones, toys, and other “found” treasures, like underwear, socks, shoes, t-shirts, and gross stuff he pulls out of the toilet trash can. The number of personal items in Rupert’s kennel belonging to either Ed or me corresponds directly to how long he’s been left alone. It turns out Rupert is a hoarder, not one of those messy, doesn’t know what he has hoarders, but one of the organized, don’t throw that paperclip from 1962 away or I WILL KNOW IT’S GONE, hoarders. Rupert, quirky little thing that he is, is very particular about the order and arrangement of his belongings.  In a nightly ritual, he pulls his blankets and loot out of the kennel and then spends a considerable amount of time rearranging everything in some special order known only to him. A word of caution: Don’t jack with Rupert’s carefully curated collection! Once it’s in the kennel, it’s his! I nearly lost a finger last night attempting to retrieve a pair of crotchless panties. (For the record, until yesterday, I did not own crotchless panties.)

Change is almost always difficult, even good change. I definitely consider both Ed and I being employed a good change. Before you know it, Ed will be used to his new job. Rupert will be used to staying alone a whole lot more and I will be used to wearing crotchless panties.

Men Plan Hand Pies and God Laughs

Ed and I woke up this morning excited about getting our grocery list together and shopping for HAND PIE SATURDAY. We were both really looking forward to this evening and tomorrow. Cut to about 11 AM. I was work, work, working when I got a call from Ed. He was at a nearby hotel meeting with his new employer, filling out some paperwork, when he suddenly felt faint and extremely dizzy. Ed’s a pretty laid back kind of guy. He typically doesn’t panic or overreact. So, when he said I had to come get him, that he couldn’t get home on his own, I knew whatever was happening was serious and I had to go. Unfortunately, it was also really bad timing. We were short-handed at work and, by going to rescue my guy, I left our only staff member alone with the phones and 5 attorneys to assist. Sharknado or 5 attorneys alone? I’d take the Sharknado any day. Here’s the part where I give Rachel a big thank you for having a wonderful attitude and for always going above and beyond in her job. THANK YOU, RACHEL, FOR BEING YOU!

When I got to the hotel, I found Ed, semi-reclined on a sofa in the lobby, pale, sweaty, and obviously miserable. As worried as I was about what was wrong with Ed (get ready to be dazzled by my shallowness), what really stopped me short was the sight of Ed’s MISSING FACIAL HAIR. He shaved his goatee without warning me after I left for work this morning. I tried really hard to be compassionate and empathetic as I helped Ed to the car, but I was too distracted. I couldn’t stop staring at his naked chin and upper lip. Weird.

In the 22 years Ed and I have known each other, I have only seen him without facial hair once, when our son was a baby, 20 years ago. I didn’t like it. We were on one of our extended breaks from our relationship at that point, so my opinion didn’t really count back then. It doesn’t count now, either, because Ed’s new employer does not allow goatees. They allow mustaches. Their employees can look like retired cops, porn stars, Hell’s Angels, or even Ron Swanson, but they can’t have a neatly trimmed goatee. What the hell?! Just as a point of reference. Here is a picture of Ed before the big shave.


I know. I’m a jerk, talking about Ed’s poor bald face when he was really, really sick, but I was caught off guard. I knew the shave was going to happen. I just wasn’t prepared for it to happen so soon. It never occurred to me that Ed wouldn’t warn me before he did it. In fact, I thought we’d make a big deal out of the shave. I was going to take before and after pictures… and during the shave pictures. I was going to blog about it! It was going to be great. [Sigh]

You’re probably wondering how Ed is feeling. We got home without incident. After another serious bout of nausea and dizziness, he slept most of the afternoon. He is feeling much better, but is still dizzy when he sits or stands for too long. If he’s not 100% tomorrow, we’re going to the Doc in the Box.

Just for the record, Ed is handsome without his goatee, pale and a little green around the gills, but handsome. In fact, there’s a Carey Grant dimple in his chin that I forgot was there. What can I say? I’m not good with surprises, but I think I can get used to Ed’s new face.

HAND PIE SATURDAY? At the moment, it’s still on. Once this is posted, I’m going to lie in bed with Ed and make a grocery list for tomorrow morning. If he isn’t up to a baking fiesta tomorrow, we’ll do it on Sunday. HAND PIE SUNDAY… Stay tuned.