Augh!

Tired of being in a bad mood.
Thought the toddlers had zapped it out of me yesterday, but today Asplundh showed up and stoked the coals. Giving it some thought, this is a Fresh Bad Mood, cause the toddlers and yoga and wine really did the trick yesterday. Who can be grouchy when met with all that sweetness and light and snuggle potential at the school gate?

I digress.
We have a lovely willow tree in the front yard. It's not without A Sordid History itself, but we continue to care for and love it.

Last year, the first year it was trimmed for the power lines, I thought to try and have a thoughtful conversation with the hired saws responsible for trimming branches. That didn't work out so well. I was left with a butchered tree, and about the polar opposite effect that I was lead to believe would occur. Gone, poof.

So this time, I felt better prepared. But no. Another hack job. After expressing my Extreme Disapproval and retreating hastily and unkindly inside, I thought better of it, collected myself and went back to dole out a bit of constructive criticism.
CC, as in "when you said "trim" that lead me to believe you are not taking FEET off the top of the tree. Or cutting off major limbs. It makes me think the tree is getting a little hair cut, as in "trimming" the branches that are actually touching the powerlines. CC as in, "Maybe when you speak to people, you should be Very Clear about the end result; i.e. "We plan to take at least 4' off your tree and leave a gaping hole that you will be able to see every morning this winter from your cozy living room." "Maybe you ought to stay out here and supervise us, because we are not professional arborists and don't really care that you have to look at this every day. We have a job to do and it does not call for thoughtfulness or beauty."

They followed the cut from last year, which is what I spend a while telling them was the wrong approach, how further topping the tree wouldn't help it grow away from the power lines, and in fact, it still need time to recover from what their conspirators did last year. We had a Professional Opinion and everything - So please, that there? No Touchy.
I would have grabbed my coffee and not learned the same lesson yet another way. I am peeved and sheepish and let down because I felt I was proactive and polite and being heard. I learned from History Y'all! I was not doomed to repeat it!!

Afterwards, all I could hear was, "I agree m'am, that does look bad".

And they did clean up their mess. That, I will give them.

*sigh* Then I was back in the basement sewing. It's kinda hard to sew adorable and lovely baby blankets after that upset. Stop by the market and see which ones are full of *hate*. He he. Kidding. But just in case, the Smoking One better cook dinner. Just to be safe.

It's Really Early . . .

And I am up! Preparing for teh Market.

See if you can find me!

Oh Gawd

This is what I get for cleaning. A nice case of the heebie geebies.
I collected the mop from it's perch on the porch. Classy, I know, right? Swished it around in the sink water to prepare for cleaning the kitchen floor. Swipe swipe, rinse rinse, swipe sw . . . what's that in the water? Floating and sinking Ophelia-like in it's stainless steel bathtub but a GIGANTIC wolf spider. I shudder now just typing that. Poor thing though, I hope it was dead before it came in. And to top it off there was ANOTHER (different kind of course to keep things interesting) spider crawling on the floor. I mustered up the energy to put a glass over it. Now it's wearing a 3" diameter circle path into our linoleum with it's tiny eight legs until I muster the oomph needed to put it outside. I do not want to go near it. It's dark red and juicy and , blergh, big. And now I also have a sink-full of cloudy, cantseethebottom spider-infested water to boot. I am just going to stay out of the kitchen for a while. The youngest CHO-boy can fend for himself outside. blergh.

Oh Noes!

The Smoking One and I are not usually good planners. We can get a few parts in motion early (say, for instance, concert tickets), but save all the minutiae (say, uh, what to do with the kids?) for the last crunch. Well, this time, it wasn't (the very) last minute and things were in place!

Tickets to The Decemberists/Laura Viers show at the 9:30 club in DC. Check!

Scouting out rad hotels in the area. Check!

Grandparent taking the kids overnight. Double check.

Day dreaming of being back in Dupont Circle. Check.

Ah, yes. Uncheck All.

We even had comped tickets from a band member to add to that hot shit we are getting out of town together without the spawn look at us with free tickets feeling.

Hmmm, the grandparent isn't on the internet much . . .