Edgy Mama

Actual conversation that took place today in the back of my Mommy van between my son and his best friend. In addition to applying make-up, I can write and drive at the same time. After all, I’m a freelance writer!

Friend: “I love dump trucks.”
Son: “I love bulldozers.”
Friend: “I love them all.”
Son: “I love them all too.”
F: “I love the whole world.”
S: “Me too!”
F: “The whole world is our cousins.”
S: “My cousins are twins.”
F: “I love twins!”
S: “But my sister’s kind of mean.”
(pause)
S: “Now I’m going to destroy you!”
(Shooting sound effects and laughter).

I will be on the road tomorrow. Heading to the beach with the Book Club. Don’t hate me. xoxo.

I mentioned several months ago, after first seeing his film, that I’d fallen head over heels for this man. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the guy who just might save the world.

Since we don’t have cable and mountain reception sucks, I didn’t watch the Oscars last night, but I heard Gore was funny and articulate and adorable. As in adore-worthy, we all adore, I adore.

I’m hearing these Presidential race rumors, and I must say, I like ‘em. If we don’t elect someone who is truly committed to and UNDERSTANDS what it will take to save our planet from self-destruction, we’re even more screwed than we already are.

Obama’s cute and smart. Hillary’s smart and has ovaries. Edwards is cute and well-organized.

Gore is a potential savior.

Love him.

The weather for the end of next week on the east coast of Northern Florida: mostly clear to mostly cloudy. Highs in the mid-70s. Lows in the upper 50s.

Yes, it’s that time again: Book Club Beach Trip!

Above is a photo of me in Puerto Rico, but you get the idea.

For me, BCBT means catching up with old friends, drinking too much beer with the goal of getting B.M. tipsy, playing Rook, and long walks on the beach. It also means reading, eating, and sleeping–all three more than the usual!

For you, BCBT means Ash will prolly post photos of scantily-clad beach babes on the bloggie, and I might make an appearance, albeit not scantily-clad, though my blogging will depend on whether or not wireless has spread beyond the local Taco Bell in the small town near the condo yet.

For E-spouse, BCBT means getting a taste of Mommy organizational, cleaning, and cooking skills (checking backpacks, signing forms, remembering who goes where when, grocery shopping and meal planning, carpools, picking up toys). He does a pretty good job, although I do know that the three hours before I get home are typically devoted to the only cleaning that will happen in the four days I’m away.

For the kids, BCBT means emotional meltdowns punctuated by fun schedule changes, like extra video time after school while E’s working and ice cream every night after dinner.

I’ll be around for a couple more days, just thought I’d warn you.

I’ve been working too much this week. Oh, and single parenting, which counts as double overtime.

So, not much to report, but if you want to see some adorable photos of kids dressed up as their favorite book characters that I took for the newspaper today, click here, then scroll down to “Featured Galleries” and click on the photo gallery called “Book characters come alive.”

That’s all I got for you.

FRIDAY UPDATE: Ack! I also have a front page photo. This wasn’t an assignment. The photo is just a snap I took in my daughter’s classroom, but the newspaper called yesterday asking if I had a random recent classroom shot to go with a hot story for today’s A1 section! The on-line headliner might change during the day, so it’s the story titled: “Senate bill may force merger…” Check it out!

This is the s**thole of a house that sits 20 feet behind my home. And yes, those are raccoons, just some of the myriad wildlife occupying the house. Cute, aren’t they? And possibly carrying rabies, which is rampant in Western North Carolina.

This house is now an environmental health hazard (that’s lead paint flaking off of it into my yard), a fire hazard (for obvious reasons) and a wildlife habitat.

We’ve talked to the guy who owns the house about all this and more. Hell, we’ve offered to buy the house (as have others). The guy is, ironically, a respected businessman. But, clearly, something is way off. One of the neighbors says that if he sells the s**thole, half the money goes to his ex-wife, which is why he doesn’t want to sell.

In the mean time, I don’t allow my kids to venture behind our home because of the dangers. It sucks, really.

I’ve talked to a city home inspector and read the housing code on-line. I’ve talked to the county animal control unit. No one wants to do anything. The city wants a complaint signed by at least five neighbors. Then they might come take a look. Last time I called animal control, they came by and left a note on the guy’s door. Then nothing happened. I don’t want the house condemned, because then the city will just board it up and leave it. But I’m tired of asking the owner to fix stuff, and then having nothing change. I’m tired.

UPDATE: Writing this got me fired up, so I called the city housing complaints office. Again. They promised to send an inspector out today. I told them that I want follow-up, dammit. Now I’m mad.

to write wittily or well.

Although my upstairs heat is working again–after four of the coldest nights in Ashvegas in many years. I know it’s been at least five years since it’s been so cold, because that’s how long we’ve had our solar hot water and heating system.

If you’re considering solar, and you have an ancient cinder block home, and you have to run the water pipes to the upstairs air exchanger outside the house, on the north side of the house, and you neglect to properly enclose and insulate them because you’re lazy and it would cost more cash, then you can count on them freezing and screwing your upstairs heating capacity–when it is ass-cold.

Single supa Edgy (that would be me–partnered with traveling enviro-dude who was off saving the world elsewhere while we shivered under our blankies) did crawl into the attic with the intention of trying to figure out what the problem was when the heat initially failed. I also needed the phone number of the heating company, which they kindly emboss on their air exchanger. I could have used the phone book, of course, but that would have been the wimpy way out. There, in my shredded paper-filled attic, I discovered two things one never hopes to find in one’s upper story. One would be a large hole in the side of the house. Two would be small beady eyes and a swishy gray tail. Yep, I initially blamed the squirrel for the heating debacle. But it seems she’s just an additional problem.

Solutions? Fliss suggests acid rock. Mom suggests cut-up Coke cans glued to the hole. I suggest calling in the professionals and paying them tons of money to take care of everything.

And then I’m going to sleep. For a long time. In a warm, squirrel-proof home.

I’m in process of recovering from an afternoon and evening of hanging with a bunch of local photographers. We convened at Asheville Brewing Company yesterday to plan our Day in the Life of Ashvegas project. The project will be shot in 24 hours on April 14, 2007. So far, 27 photogs have signed up to contribute. The Asheville Library system wants copies of the photos for its North Carolina photo archives and has offered wall space for a related show at their West Asheville branch. Hurrah!

For photos of our get-together yesterday or to sign up to be a part of DILDO, go here.

In addition to planning, I got to meet some wonderful folks and catch up with some old buds. I got to meet the sexy young Ashe-villian, who just happens to work as a kid sitter (see post below proving that sometimes, if you ask, she will come). I got to meet other photogs whose amazing work I admire, such as zen and fellowsfog (see DILDO group. I’m feeling too tired to hyperlink all the flickerites). I got to catch up with bloggas Fliss, Mark, Chris, Huw, Jeremy and Ash. I got to commune with the Magic 8 Ball and drink some of my favorite local brew.

Now I’m going to go sit in the dark with Daniel Craig at Asheville Pizza Company and have a bit of the hair of the doggie!

1. Someone who can advise me on computer technology for some rather vague plot twists I considering for my Edgy Mama mystery novel. Al, you might just be my man?

2. Suzanne Somers in my living room for 30 minutes every day to make me abdocize (that’s what she does to tighten those abs, right?).

3. Some more Cortisone cream for the weird rash that I have on the back of one leg and somewhere else on the back of my bod.

4. A really good kid sitter who can work on week nights.

5. To stop eating Valentine’s candy because it’s taunting me from the kitchen. What, you didn’t know that chocolate can talk? Try listening.

6. A new toaster oven. Word to the wise: if you put potato chips in a toaster oven to crisp them up, they will spontaneously combust and send foot-high oily orange flames shooting out of the oven door. And throwing the pan of flaming chips into the sink is an okay idea. Unless you have dried herbs hanging over the sink that can also catch on fire when you dowse the flames with water and they respond by shooting even higher before sizzling to death.

Calling all you flickrites - don’t forget the meet-up at 4 p.m. Saturday at Asheville Brewing on Coxe Avenue. Just a laidback time to get together, drink some beer and talk a little photography. As you’ll recall, we’re going to pick a day in April to shoot a Day in the Life of Ashvegas.

See you there.