You are gone. You went to Chicago to see the baby, and left me and Magnus with a freezer full of microwaveable casseroles. I thought I'd write to you, since I can't talk to you (and because the next thing on my To Do list is boring).
Started typing in "heytessa" and google is frantically trying to guess what I'm looking for. H gets you hulu.com. He gets you Hertze Rent-A-Car. Hey gets you the lyrics to "Hey Soul Sister". You get the idea. Googling Heytessa brought up a blog titled HeyTessa. But not this blog! That's right, there's another heytessa blog! I know, right?!
And she is the Anti-Tess. It's like when Spider-Man meets himself from other dimensions, and they're all these alternate versions of himself. Him, but not. The other Tessa has pink hearts on everything, and inspirational quotes ripped from the inside of a middle-schooler's Trapper Keeper. And background music from taken from a Mandy Moore movie. It looks like all the Disney princesses got together to blog.
Moving on. Ain't no sunshine when she gone. Seriously. There's clouds when she gone. And severe weather warnings. But no sunshine. Four straight days of rain, but no sunshine. I've been pretty productive in the garage, but the kitchen is suffering. And to do more in the garage, I think I need to buy a belt sander. Trying to use a palm sander in a huge, two-piece hutch is extra stupid.
LATER THAT DAY.
Okay, went to Home Depot and bought a belt sander (Now with a MicroFilter! Cleaning the air for fewer inhaled carcinogens!). I was right, the belt sander is the tool I needed. I've also been looking into what I need to put together a kitchen table our of that wood from the farm up north. (Incidently, I realized the table will be way cooler if we call it Reclaimed Native Black Ash instead of Wood From the Farm.) I had figured on a longer table, something simple but stretching like 6 or 7 feet. However, ain't no 7-foot table fitting in our current dinning room. There are some nice ideas here, but the one I really dig is this one. Yeah, I know, it's a chick blog by some silk-curtain debutante who wants tons of stuff and has her husband make it for her. But the table is great. I just need a pro to tell me how to do it. All the stuff I've read so far has everyone assembling a simple table, and then freaking out over exactly how to treat the barnwood. Oil stain or water based? Poly? Lacquer? Tung oil? SHOULD I USE TUNG OIL, AHHH! Funny imagining carpenters, in plaid shirts, on the internet, freaking out about tung oil. But there's pages of it, though I can't prove they're wearing plain.
Okay, off to the dog washing party. He's been chewing a bone. Outside. In the rain. For two hours. The beast is disgusting, and if he ever wants to come inside again he must first agree to a bath. Also, here's two sentences from an email I sent to John and Jon earlier today. Its not important, but I liked it once I was done.
Coming down Friday, leaving Monday. (Run-on Sentence Alert) That leaves us 3 nights and 2 days to find a time when we can all get together and party in such a way as to cause onlookers to turn deeply introspective, asking themselves just how well they are really using their time on this planet, and why, why is their own life a flickering candle at the foot of the Shrine to Boredom, whilst yonder revelers (us) drink deeply from the streams of epicurean blitheness (beer), shaking the tree of life and eating whatever falls from its heavy branches with the kind of hearty unrestraint usually reserved for children and looters.
Hope to see you soon. All my best to the Chicago contingency.
