Thursday, April 17, 2014

Steven Murphy Struck Again

Who is this man called Murphy, with his laws of misfortune? I ask that as I sit here having been marinated in Diet Coke. The real thing. In Hillbilly Mom's neck of the woods they call him Even Steven. I suppose that could be his first name, as in Steven Murphy ........

Not too long ago I was inspired to create my own garden window. I took a 24" three tier covered wire shelf and attached it to my little kitchen window with cup hooks. I carefully drilled holes in the bottom of the ice cube trays for drainage and filled them with potting soil. Formulated for seed starting, the bag proclaimed. I searched, but found nothing that would act as a tray for the water under the trays so I just created one out of foil. I will admit to certain amount of bragging. I could water the top tray and it would drain down to next tray and then the next. I am so very clever. It worked great and I got a lot of seedlings going.

After transplanting some, I decided to set some little clay pots in place of the ice trays. As I sat in peaceful oblivion a couple nights ago, there was suddenly a crash in the kitchen. I rushed in to see that the entire contraption was in the floor surrounded by potting soil and broken pots. Too much weight, my own fault. The potting soil was wet. I had watered it just hours before and the pots were a tragedy. I salvaged nothing. The dogs were of two minds. The male ones hid, but Toni Louise has the curiosity of a cat and decided to romp in the mess. After a sorry job of cleaning it up I went to bed deciding to tackle it in the fresh light of day.

Upon arising, I swept and mopped and did a much better job of cleaning. I was inspired to tackle the laundry room and the work table of He Who once dabbled in stain glass. I had set it up several years ago for him  to have a place to work should he want to. It became a catch-all. It seems to grow daily. While doing this, I found a stash of bungee cords. In my new/used fridge the tray in the freezer door is lacking the part that holds the items on the shelf. I decided that a bungee cord might work and set about installing said cord. Took several tries to find one that fit it tightly enough.

I was determined. As I pulled it tight the door got away from me and slammed into a plate rack on the wall. Broke two plates. All this happened while I was dealing with a tooth ache, then having the tooth pulled. In utter frustration I just walked away from the broken plates in the floor and finished my original task. The day did not go well at all.

That was yesterday. It was fiercely windy and prevented me from working outside. I tried to discover an avenue of entry in the back yard. I did, but lacked the brute force to remove a steel door that was jammed in place.

This morning I was determined to break the spell of Steven Murphy. I convinced He Who Mows and Tows to remove the door. I gassed up my mower and raised the blade, the grass being tall enough to lose a dog in. I cleaned up the yard and then mowed it twice (blade up, blade down). Came in, showered and got myself presentable for  trip to town, Thursday being Senior discount day. I gathered all my deals and then headed home. I have two soda machines to fill and then I had big plans to mow my side yards and around my tender young tress. He who mows has been known to simply run them over.

Unloaded the car, came through the door, tripped over a dog, while another escaped into the store, dropped a bag ........ the bag had two 2 liter bottles of Diet Coke in it. It hit the floor and exploded. I was sprayed from head to toe with Diet Coke. In my ear! Inside my shoes! All over the floor, the table, the back of the recliner. It sprays quite a distance, that Diet Coke.

I sit here now, having had another quick shower, in different clothes. Afraid to attempt to mow, lest that pesky Steven Murphy still lurks close by. 


Hillbilly Mom said...

Yes. Even Steven. We have an on again/off again relationship. I'm glad you are entertaining him this week.

joanne said...

he's been visiting here too and i'm damn sick of it. Hope you can get your misery under control before his kin decides to drop by.

Anonymous said...

You really need a housekeeper to clean up after you, but I don't want to be her!

You have more fortitude than I can even fathom.