Friday, July 24, 2009

Just Here to Replace the Coil, Ma'am

A few weeks ago we, here in Arkansas, had a heat spell. It was June and everyday the temperature was up to a good 99-102 degrees. Now I know, I've talked about heat before and coming from New Mexico I am no stranger to 100 degree June days. But again, New Mexico hot and Arkansas hot are totally different things. In Arkansas this kind of heat is usually reserved for the end of July and August. I prepare all spring by stocking up with food and other essentials so that when the soul-sucking August heat hits, I'm set. I only have to venture outside on a voluntary basis or if some kind of emergency arises. Otherwise I just stay in my nice cool house, with all the west facing windows covered. But this weird June heat came, I was totally unprepared. I had thousands of places to be and things to buy so I kept having to brave the furnace outside. But every time I left the house and got into my car-- the car that could have doubled as an oven, sweat streaming down my face, the will to live quickly leaving me-- I took solace in knowing that a nice cool house waited for me when I returned. Ahh, I lived for thinking of that nice cool house.

Unfortunately, our air conditioner happened to be broken that week. So all those reviving thoughts of my nice cool house were melted just as soon as I walked inside and met nothing but stale, humid air.

We thought maybe it wasn't our air conditioner, maybe it was just so SO hot that the AC was doing its best to keep up. But when the unit did not turn off for a literal 4 days, we decided that yeah, something was probably wrong.

A guy came to the house a day or two later and confirmed: We needed to replace a coil. Whatever that means. He was going to talk to my mom to get the details all worked out, and he also added some Freon to the unit. And glory of glories! The house was cool again.

I completely forgot about the rest of the repairs needed until this morning. Rusty is out of town so I've been living up the single life. By that I mean, after Norah goes to bed at 8 I either watch trashy reality TV, watch girl movies, or play BioShock on the x-box. I know, that's a pretty tame single life. Maybe tonight I'll jazz things up a bit and drink some tequila while playing my video game. Even though my single life activities are less than exciting, I've been staying up too late. So this morning when my doorbell rang at 8:30, I was still deeply asleep and brushed off the ringing as part of a dream. Or one of those pesky hallucinations. I did the same thing yesterday when Jasmine called me. I heard the phone, thought it was an alarm and pushed whatever button my finger touched first. I think I hung up on her. Then when I woke up I couldn't remember if it was real or not.

When the doorbell rang for the second time I knew it was in real life. I went cautiously to the door, not expecting anyone and still partially asleep, and heard two men's voices. Even though I had no clue who it was, was a little freaked out by the two men standing at my door, and was woefully unarmed, I opened the door. Clearly I would be the first idiot to be killed off in a slasher film.

They were the AC repair-men! Come to fix our coil! Not to kill me! I was not wearing a bra! They apologized for not calling but they did not have my phone number, and they explained that they just needed to get into the garage to get to the attic.

I hate it when repair-people are at my house. I feel so jumpy, like I can't go to the bathroom because as soon as I sit down they will knock on the door and immediately need to know why the ferber box and the raspyclack are switched and turn off all the lights quick before your house blows up! And there I am, on the pot.

So I'm sitting here, listening to them in my attic while I write about them on the internet. And let me tell you, replacing a coil may sound easy enough, but it must be some seriously hard business. Every few minutes I hear some loud crashes and bangs that sound like things falling down stairs. I've heard lots of stomping and pushing and just now one guy said "Where's the glue!?!" ...Is my air conditioner held together with glue?

All I've got to say is, if those guys are up there using the old "Replacing the Coil" cover-up but are really stealing my giant tubs of endless pink baby clothes I am going to be seriously ticked off.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Veggie Patch

Oh hi!

I have a nasty case of Nothing to Say. So instead of words I will give you pictures. Of my garden. That is still growing gloriously even though I regularly forget to water.

We have had so many tomatos this summer. Which is awesome because Norah loves them. I think she thinks they are candy.

Bell peppers! I'm pretty sure we bought a red bell pepper, but these look awfully green to me.

Probably the cutest jalapeno I have ever seen.

These are my radishes. They are pretty awesome, and I think they are done growing, but really I have no idea. And if they are done growing, then how do I get them out? I need help...

Watermelon (top) and cantaloupe. Hooray!

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Walk On

The beast, she walks.

I had expected the progression of Norah walking to be fast. Many of the babies I know began walking around their first birthday, and I expected Norah to do the same. Her birthday came and went, and while she was excellent at cruising around, and could even stand on her own without falling down, she did not walk. This continued for a few weeks, and at last! She took her first step.

Surely, I thought, not long after her first step she would start walking all over the place. That's what babies do, right? They take their first step, and then the world collapses as they start walking everywhere. Their mamas never get to sit down again.

I was wrong. Norah's first step was followed by a few more weeks of little walking and lots of crawling. Little by little she began taking more steps, and now she is a walking machine. But it took a long time to get there.

It's so strange to see her do this, walk upright like a little person. Slowly her gait is becoming steadier, less like a drunken zombie. Slowly she is beginning to learn how to turn and round corners. She walks and falls in perfect Norah fashion--looking up and saying "Uh-oh!", then rolling on her back and giggling, pulling her feet up to her face. This kid cracks me up.

Now that she has tasted the wonders of walking, she has little tolerance for being carried. At home this is fine, but at the store where there is an endless supply of things for Norah to break, her desire for independence is really obnoxious. She arches her back and yelps at me, so I put her down and say "Ok Norah. You can walk, but you have to hold Mama's hand. If you can't hold Mama's hand you can't walk." And Norah hears "Blah blah blah WALK!!! Blah blah blah." As soon as her feet hit the floor she slides away from me and tries to escape, walking as fast as she can in the opposite direction, arms in the air above her head, crazed look in her eye. She looks exactly like a bald little monkey.

Sometimes I forget she can walk. I'll leave her in the living room, I'll get my coffee and turn around to see this little blond head bobbing toward me. And it freaks me out. Just what, exactly, does my baby think she is doing? All this walking and talking and growing up business? Wasn't she a screaming little blob just last week? Now she is walking and saying words, combing her hair and brushing her teeth, taking off her diaper, climbing stairs, giving hugs and kisses and showing off whenever she gets the chance.
She is still screaming though. At least some things never change.
For more on how I feel about Norah walking, go here.