Nancyland...

All’s well in Nancyland.

I got an e-mail from Carlos the other day saying just that. “Is all well in Nancyland?” he asked. Which made me pause and look at my calendar. Are you kidding? What day is this? Which then made me realize that it’s been 21 days since my last posting. Yikes. 21 days. A veritable lifetime in bloggy world. I’m sure you’ve been fine without me, but still…I am so sorry.

The last few weeks have been slightly (ha-understatement) hectic in said land of Nancy…complete with a bout of vertigo, pneumonia, laryngitis and ear/eyes/nose/throat summer cold. Add to that the garage sale, landscaping project and a friend requiring help moving , and my daughters two summer camps coinciding on the same days (who planned that nonsense!)…the equation brings you to taking three weeks off from my beloved blogoshere and its inhabitants.

Outside of an annoying repetitive cough, I’m better. Now.

The vertigo started after Boo and I spent an entire two days riding the coasters at Cedar Point. We stayed at the Breakers which allowed us extra time after regular park hours and an extra hour before the park opens as well. We are yearly season pass holders, so we have gotten rather elitist about the rides. If a line is too long, we just come back later. Doesn’t necessarily have to be that day since we only live 45 minutes away. But when you get to ride the Maverik (average wait time 2 hours+) or the Millenium (average wait time 1 hour+) 3 times each before 10am…well, life is good.

That is, until the next morning.

I awoke and rolled out of bed heading for the bathroom and realized that I had no equilibrium to keep me standing upright. It was rather precarious as I found this out at the top of the flight of stairs leading down. In my minds eye I saw myself a crumbled heap at the bottom unable to call for help. ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!’ keeps running like a mantra through my brain. This feeling of nausea and unstableness lasted the entire day. Me thinks I must curtail my overanxious inner 12 year old. Just like alcohol…one must pace themselves.

I love to get manicures and pedicures. It's a time when I can just totally relax and be pampered. I get manicures about every two weeks and a pedi about once a month (unless there is some new fabu colour that I MUST have and have now)...but for some reason my timing has been entirely off when scheduling such events of late. Instead of having fresh, shiny nails right before some social occassion, I end up doing yard work immediately afterwards. Which even if wearing gloves, ruins said manicure.

My daughter has determined uncounsiously to break every toenail I have. For some reason she feels that walking on my feet when wearing flipflops is preferable to walking on her own in sturdy Keens. Flipflops against Keens? The Keens always win. The nail technician is always wondering what I do to my freakin' toes...

BUT, even though my nails may not be shiny presently, my darn yard looks great. Maybe the best it's looked since I've lived here. My ex-husband even said so. (yay me!) I built a stone table of antique sandstone along the driveway where we cocktail while playing Cornhole during the summer. It's fabulous! Like a mini-Stonehenge! I had stopped at a garage sale and they had all this thick beautiful slabs of sandstone. I bought it all. Didn't know what I was going to do with it, but had to have it. I pulled in the driveway and asked my contractor to take it out of my Jeep.

"George....hey could you unload this?"
"What is all this? What are you planning on doing with it?" he asked me. I knew that he was eyeing it and realizing that this shit was h-e-a-v-y. It was perhaps the hottest day this year and he was almost completed staining my deck. Not a good job in the mid-day sun.
"I'm not sure yet, George. But I couldn't leave it there...I had to have it!" I explained.

He just shook his head. He's getting used to my antics. As he unloaded these extremely heavy articles out of the car and placed them alongside the driveway, I stood over them patting myself on the back for the beauties I just procured. All of a sudden it came to me. "Dig two holes right here George. And we'll stand these up and mortar the long piece across the top."

"Your kidding."

"Nope. Dig. I'll buy you some beer."

My contractors cool. I think I find jobs just to keep him busy at my house.

My basement has been cleared of clutter, another manicure sabotage. Well, almost cleared. I’m not perfect, you know. I need a little bit of mess. Control is overrated.

Over the past year I’ve been taking things that I no longer want, but haven’t been able to fully give up quite yet. I’ve been sorting them into boxes of maybe I might use again and boxes of give away and boxes of garage sale. I keep a stack of price stickers at the base of the stairs so I’ll tag the item before placing it into the bin. I read about that once in a magazine and thought it a brilliant idea. Amazingly enough I’ve been able to implement it into my life. Most brilliant ideas I ponder but never, ever actually use.

This past garage sale has cleared a large area in the basement that I’ve put some new shelving units in. There are shelves along the walls, but the floor area has always turned into a jumble of miscellaneous. My idea is that the shelves are deep and ceiling height. You can access them from either side. I even made flaps or covers for them out of old sheets to help keep dust and dirt from the items stored. Another ‘good idea’ supplied to me ala Martha Stewart.

I used to have a catering business. I have a lot of catering equipment. From Cambros to keep the food warm or cold in transport to stainless roll top chafers. I have plates and silverware and glassware for 100. I have a plethora of serving platters and bowls for any occasion. The problem is storing all these items. And keeping it organized.

My basement is a basement not meant for anything but a basement. My home was built in 1905. At that time families didn’t use their basements as another room in the home. It was a concrete filled space below the house that had the guts of the house in it.

The ceiling is low. Fine for me, but if you are over six foot, please watch the beams. You might end up with an unscheduled trip to the hospital. I’ve painted lines around the furnace and hot water tank so nothing gets stored close to those items. Another tip from Martha darling. And I’ve tied a red ribbon to the spigot for the overflow tank hiding in the ceiling beams for my boiler. I can’t tell you how many times I myself have hit my head on the valve knowing full well that its up there and that I should avoid it at all costs. It hurts. It leaves marks. It makes you swear like a trucker.

“Mommy! THAT’S a BAD word! The worst of the words!” my daughter once said after the tank leaving yet another large dent in my forehead.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. That IS a bad word and I shouldn’t have said it.” I told her as I tried desperately to compose myself and keep my forehead from bleeding all over my white shirt. I thought it’s not quite the worst word, but damn near close. “I just hit my head on that fuckin’…I mean, darn thing AGAIN!”

After hitting it about a dozen times I finally got the bright idea to tie a ribbon dangling from the spigot so to unconsciously see it before banging into it. Again. And again. And again. You get the picture. (I get the bruises...)

All of this organization has come only after a long bout of un-organization. If asked for a tool, or an item I can recall where it’s located. I have a memory like that. I made more money off my dad by finding his wallet or glasses over the years. I’d be a good detective. I can walk through a space and then recall what was in there. I don’t go into the room thinking that I need to remember stuff, I just can see it in my minds eye. I’ve no need to pray to Saint Anthony for lost items, I can find them myself.

The problem is I can find it because I know where it is. I just can’t direct anyone else to it.

“The clips for the tablecloths are in a plastic bag on the second shelf over by the hot water tank next to the candles in a shoe box under the bin that has the gift wrap ribbon in it. It’s a blue shoe box, you can’t miss it.”

“Huh?” is usually the reply. “Where exactly?”

So I put down what I’m doing to go and retrieve it myself. It’s much easier that way. But it would be better if I had it organized so anyone would be able to find things. Delegate responsibility. That’s what I was always taught as a manager. You may do a better job yourself, but if you delegate responsibility correctly you’ll get more work done in a shorter period of time.

Thus the organization.
And the time put in. Or should I say…overtime.

Thank goodness the basement is cool. The last couple weeks have been scorchers up here on the North Coast. So to spend time in my not made for habitation basement was actually pleasant. I’m going to try to make it another year without air conditioning. I’d like to say it’s because I’m trying to reduce my carbon footprint on good ol’ Mother Earth. But truly it’s just to keep my energy bills down. I’ve not central air in my 1905 home. And I don’t care what kind of window unit you buy, they are not energy efficient. There are about 3 weeks of the year that I would gladly sell my home and buy some prefab McMansion just to have central air…but if I can make it through those 3 weeks then I love all the glory of my century mission style home.

Enter in the sick part.

Hot. Sticky. Humid. I slept with a fan blowing on me in close proximity one night. I awoke with a cold. Which continued to get worse. Which turned into laryngitis. Which then moved into my chest. Which then landed me with a minor case of pneumonia. Summer sickness is the worst.

But I’m better now. I still sound like a was a smoker from way back. My voice is deep and cracky. My friend Melissa thinks I sound like Kathleen Turner. She thinks I should re-record all my outgoing messages for voice mail now so I can add a sultry sound to my normally nasal “We can’t come to the phone right now….”

I don’t like the sound of my voice recorded.
But then again, I don’t like my image in print either. Unless it’s taken while on the front car of a roller coaster. Before the vertigo sets in...

:-)

Thanks to all for hanging in with me during my little involuntary reprieve from the blogosphere!


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Thanks also to Molly of Hope, Fate and a little Hypothetical Coffee for tagging me in a 25 things you really never wanted to know about me-MeMe. Of course, HER 25 things are grand. 25 things about me? I really don’t think you want to know….but to appease Miss Molly, I’ll give it a go.

1. I’ve been buying clothes other than black, white or gray.
2. I’ve been taking all the clothes other than black, white or gray back.
3. I spend too much eating out.
4. I won’t curtail my eating out although I should.
5. I love dirty martinis.
6. I can’t drink more than two or I become a blithering idiot.
7. I’ve not answered any phone calls in the last 3 weeks. That's why I have voicemail.
8. I only have checked voice mail once every two days. Unless absolutely necessary. I'm sure it drives my ex-husband insane.
9. It’s been like heaven not answering the phone.
10. I just ordered 3 pairs of shoes that I don’t need but must have.
11. My credit score has finally recovered from my divorce so many years ago.
12. I now get 3 offers daily to open credit cards.
13. I love apple. Not apples, although I like them too, but apple Inc. The stock I bought back when the market crashed at $80 a share has now about paid off my house.
14. Who knew I was a stock market genius.
15. My daughter is funny.
16. She likes gray, black and white clothes too. With a little splash mixed in.
17. I like to procrastinate. I mean, I don't LIKE to procrastinate; but obviously I must since I do it so often.
18. I love doing laundry, but hate putting it away.
19. I love to entertain, but stress out and hate doing it prior to anyone arriving. Once they're here, I’m fine.
20. It’s been almost a year since my mom died. I still talk to her daily.
21. I was never a coffee drinker until I met Damian. Now I can’t hardly go a day without it. Cold/Hot…doesn’t matter. But it HAS to be with crème. Bah.
22. I could eat sushi everyday.
23. I love to buy sparky party jewelry, but never wear it.
24. I own 26 evening bags. I like to display them in my dressing room.
25. I hate celebrity magazines and such but love to read PerezHilton.

Now I must tag 10 people to also tell me more, tell me more, tell me more!

These 10 unsuspecting people are:

(drum roll……)


1. Chrissy @ I ShouldaBeenAStripper . Why? Because she’s one of my best friends and I pass everything on to her.
2. SuziCate @ The Water Witches Daughter  Love her!
3. Julie @ At Home with Myself.  Jules is soooo adorable.
4. Karl @ Intense Guy. 'Cause I'd like to know 25 more things about him!
5. KaLynn @ Kacklin' With KaLynn KaLynn always makes me smile.
6. Maureen @ Island Roar If I lived closer, we'd be best pals I'm sure of it. :-)
7. Janice @ Take It Aweigh I need to do this and be accountable. Maybe just THEN I could skip those sweets. :-)
8. Renee @ Style...the New Black Renee is just one of those all around talented gals. You should SEE the scarf she knitted for me and the pin she made for Boo!
9.Tinkerbell @ If I were my best friend...  She makes me feel. Nuff said.
10. Senorita Andauluciana @ The Decline of Youth and the Beginning of Me She's one that's been with me for a long time. I always look forward to her comments!

Many of these people you've seen probably before. (hint: most are in my reading list) But....NOW they will be peer pressured into giving us more insight into who they actually are. 25, my friends. 25.
:-)

(all those that I didn't officially 'tag', feel free to pick this up even if I didn't call you out!)