Gold Mine

Posted on November 6, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I recently made a trip up to Boston to help my parents clean out closets and storage spaces that contain the relics of my childhood. In an effort to purge the no longer needed, my parents nominated me to make the call on what was too precious and dear to part with and what needed to find a new home in a hurry.

The major area that needed addressing was my sister’s and my old playroom that had become a resting place for furniture no longer allowed in the main part of the house.

Things only got worse before they got better.

But, boy, did they get good.

I found some real treasures among 3 carloads, 2 truckloads, and dozens of 55 gallon trash bags by the curb of rejected items.

This here is one of the Hanson brothers, also known as my little sister Eugene.

I found an entire box of cards that my sister’s classmates had made her when she had her tonsils removed in the first or second grade. By the volume of cards and the concern in her classmates’ scribbles, you would have thought she was having high-risk, open-heart surgery. She had many a reminder to eat popsicles, which had some very creative spellings. My favorite though, was this card from a young man who I deduce was named Harrison. He seemed to have some top secret information for Eugene on the inside of the card as she was to “plees opon alone.”

I found my Chapel signs from my senior year of high school. Man were those a trip.

This is me in 8^th grade with my kindergarten buddy. I think she’s applying to colleges now. I feel old.

Hard to believe since it was just yesterday that I was sporting pig tails and cat appliques.

Who remembers Lisa Frank?! I used to love to buy this stuff at the school store in elementary school!

I was unsure about this creature that belonged to Eugene. I sent her this picture to inquire about its nature.

Me: “What is this here creature?”

Eugene: “A horse in a kimono, naturally.”

Right. He was for sure a keeper.

Cards congratulating my parents on my birth. I’m not sure if it was a common thing to say back then (let’s hope), but a lot of the cards said, “take good care of her,” as if my parents were questionable guardians. This kind of made me laugh/worry.

This is a realtor packet from 1992 when my parents sold their first home in Maryland, where Eugene and I were born.

Apparently I took interest in homes and real estate at a young age as it appears I added my own notes to the list of house features.

I had a lot to add.

And that was only day one.

Y’all be good,

Sugarlump

Hair Dying

Posted on October 22, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Though I am five at heart, I’m apparently forty to fifty on the head.

Not in the head, but on the head.

I’ve had the good fortune of gray hair since high school. I take this as a sign that I’m wise beyond my years because I am trying to find anything positive about this situation.

As some of you wise-haired people know, these gray hair situations are pricey to conceal. I usually leave the hair dying to professionals but that has gotten expensive and necessary more frequently than I’d like and my friend Jessica assured me it was a cinch to do at home. I decided to take the plunge and let her help me dye my hair. And by help me, I mean do it for me in exchange for dinner. I was on my own, however, for the trip to Sally’s beauty supply.

My natural hair color is a very dark brown, even though my granny calls me her “black-headed” child. I typically like to dye my hair (have my hair dyed by a professional) a tad darker and throw in some violet undertones. It really brings out the green in my eyes and the ghost-like quality of my skin.

I was intrigued by this set of colors. They might make me look more tan than the violet, but that’s probably about all they would do for me.

After I had some fun envisioning myself with radically different looks, I started to hunt the blue-violet among the 350,000 options. Now blue-violet is not a wildly popular color so I had to ask for assistance in finding it. Turns out there were just two options. The lovely helper explained to me the difference:

“Well this is good if you have grays but you’re so yo…(spots the alarming amount of grays on my twenty-five-year -old head)…you have some grays so you should get this one.”

Nice save.

I headed home with my youth in a box as well as a handy little kit of supplies and Jessica got to work mixing up the pigment with the stuff that makes it stick to your hair. Binder? Extender? Developer? Tar? Something like that.

And then came the comment from Jessica that puts every woman who’s about to dye her hair at ease: ”I’ve never seen it look this color in the bottle before…”

Follow shortly by: “For the record, I didn’t pick the color.”

Excellent. I decided to focus on prepping myself for my transformation instead of the helpful commentary.

Having donned my high-end “cape,” I was feeling a little warm.

E: “It’s hot in here.”

J: “Well you’re wearing a garbage bag.”

The whole point of this DIY hair color is to save money. Maybe next time I’ll roll the $2.99 into my 401K and just use a lawn-size trash bag.

I sat on the toilet and Jessica got to work processing my hair. Though my bathroom is fairly generous in size, the fumes from the hair dye were so strong that it might serve as an alternative to general anesthesia. Even with the fan on and the door open, Jessica and I barely maintained consciousness throughout the process.

Jessica finished putting the dye on my hair and we cleaned up my skin around my hairline because after stepping back and looking at my neck, Jessica said, “You look like you’ve been beaten.”

I highly recommend this thoroughly enjoyable experience.

We let my hair “process” on my head for a while and then it was time for the moment of truth after I washed the color out of my hair. If you’ve ever washed violet hair dye out of your hair in a white shower and watched the show Dexter, this might be a very disturbing experience as you might think you’ve been shot. And having just awoken from my hair-dye-induced coma that is a highly plausible situation for all you know.

I made it out alive and my hair color looked pretty good. Jessica will remain in good standing; however, I don’t think I can go through that experience every 4-6 weeks.

Maybe I should go blonde.

Or gray.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump

I’m baaaaaaaaaaack!

Posted on October 19, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Miss me?

Well, I missed you all, internet friends!

Sorry for not posting for, like, ever. In the past few months I’ve moved, changed jobs, learned how to dye my hair myself, had a lot of family and friends visiting, discovered a new breakfast delight, replaced the brakes on my car and it’s been just crazy.

Just a little recap:

I’m Emily

I’m five.

Plus twenty.

But really I’m five at heart.

And stomach.

(what?)

A short time ago, I decided to start eating cereal again. I had given it up on my gluten-free kick but decided that gluten was not my enemy, but that, in fact, diary is. Unfortunate for a girl who grew up drinking milk almost exclusively, would choose cheese over almost anything (love me some savory), and thinks sour cream is a good addition to almost everything. Except cereal.

Anyway, I was perusing the cereal aisle (I always forget that word has an A in it – thank you spell check!) at Kroger in search of a long lost childhood favorite, Berry Berry Kix. This was the closest I came to “sugary” cereal as a child and it holds a dear place in my heart, unlike Raisin Bran and Chex. I would savor the opportunity to eat Lucky Charms or Trix when sleeping over friends’ houses, but I don’t recall ever being granted permission to put any of these delicacies into the shopping cart during my formative years.

Eager to hug a box of Berry Berry Kix, I searched up and down the aisle (I remembered the A this time!) probably 13-17 times, convinced I had somehow missed it among the hundreds of cereals. I could picture the box as clear as day. Purple. An image of the cereal, mostly regular kix with bunches of “berries” scattered throughout in purple and maroon. To my horror, it appeared that Berry Berry Kix had been taken off the market. It was a sad moment.

Until I came across a new specimen of cereal: Oops! All Berries.

Let me assure you, this was no oops.

Some brilliant mind took the best part of the cereal from Captain Crunch, which tastes much like the berries in Berry Berry Kix because, after all, they’re all berries (well, “berries”), and made a cereal out of them. Genius! I can’t tell you how many times I used to eat all of the regular kix out of Berry Berry kix, saving the berries for last. I did the same with lucky charms, leaving all of the marshmallows for a few bites of pure sugary heaven. Someone should invent Oops! All Charms because, let’s be honest, who likes those funky, somewhat sweet cheerio-ish things in Lucky Charms anyway?

No one.

The plain kix weren’t as bad, but this new cereal requires much less legwork with my spoon at 7:30 AM and provides a much more satisfying breakfast experience as each bite is just as enjoyable and indulgent as the last.

My life is forever changed.

There are, however, a few side effects: acute ADD and hunger in less than an hour.

And I think my teeth are going to rot and fall out of my mouth.

I have dreams that my teeth fall out all of the time. It’s horrifying.

My Mom might have been on to something with that whole” no sugary cereal” bit.

I want some cheese.

I think eating salt after sugar cancels it out, right?

Oh, how I’ve missed you all.

Y’all hurry back and I will, too,

Sugarlump

It’s kind of not so great…

Posted on May 16, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I recently purchased Gwyneth Paltrow’s new book, “It’s All Good,” intrigued by the idea of healthier and cleaner eating. The book offers a lot of great information and recipes about eating diary-free and gluten-free. It also discusses healthier choices for fats and non-meat proteins. As someone with a sensitive stomach, I thought I might try out some of these ideas with my meals. Don’t get me wrong though, you won’t catch me eating tofu lettuce wraps any time soon/ever. Except that one time I made them for dinner at my parents’ house. I tried hard to sell them to my dad as a delightfully healthy alternative to beef tacos and he just wasn’t buying it. And neither was I. So I decided to apply my new way of thinking about eating to a fairly familiar food: pizza.

I headed to Dominos one evening a few weeks back. I went in and ordered a medium gluten-free pizza thinking that was the smallest size.

Dominos guy: “Oh we only have the gluten-free in a small.”

Me: “Ok perfect. How much will that be?”

Dominos guy: “11.99?”

Me: “Wow that seems expensive for a small…”

Dominos guy: “Well you can get a medium for 7.99!”

Me: “I thought you said the gluten-free crust only came in a small.”

Dominos guy: “Well it’s not really gluten free.”

Me: “What do you mean? Your gluten-free crust isn’t really gluten-free?”

Dominos guy: “Well if you ordered a medium it wouldn’t be. The medium is a better deal unless you need the gluten-free for health reasons.”

(DUH? Why else would I order gluten-free?)

Me: “I’ll take the small gluten-free, please.”

Verdict: The pizza was pretty terrible and expensive. I think I’ll stick to the real stuff and just eat it infrequently.

My next venture was speckled lima beans. I must admit that I usually make these with bacon grease and on this occasion I fully intended to make them that way; however, there was no bacon or bacon grease to be found in my refrigerator. Having carefully studied all of the critical pantry items for a dairy-free and gluten-free household, I had thought it was worthwhile to purchase a TUB of coconut oil at the wholesale club. Never mind that I only cook a few nights per week, I hate coconut, and I am the only one in the household that will be using the coconut oil. The 54oz tub was just the ticket.

Seeing the tub of coconut oil sitting on the counter, I decided to throw a few healthy spoonfuls in as my fat for the beans.

Boy was that a misstep.

I thought it would be a subtle taste, but no.

I threw in a halved onion and 2 cloves of garlic to try to mitigate the undesirable coconut flavor. It helped, but the coconut was still there in a big bad way. Bacon grease and coconut oil are not similar flavor profiles in case you were wondering.

Verdict: Good thing you can use this stuff as moisturizer. I’ll be smelling pretty tropical for the next 23.4 years or however long it takes me to saturate my skin with that tub of coconut oil.

Having failed miserably with savory options, I thought I might have better luck with something sweet.

Nope.

I found this recipe that sounded great for a gluten-free fudgy chocolate cake. How bad could that be?

BAD.

It looked so pretty, but underneath that icing lay a very strange tangy, cleaning solution-like aftertaste and a chewy texture much like an actual dish sponge (not to be confused with the lovely texture of sponge-cake).

It nearly ruined chocolate cake for me.

In an effort to stay positive and salvage the situation, I have been scraping off the naturally gluten-free chocolate icing and eating it by the spoonful. I now have a scalped cake in my refrigerator.

Verdict: There’s a reason people bake with wheat flour.

I’m hungry.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

North comes South: Part I

Posted on April 14, 2013 by The Sugarlump

My good friend from college Blair came to visit me a few weeks back. She was my first non-family member Yankee visitor and it was her first time in the south. EVER. It was a pretty big deal.

I picked up Blair at the airport early Wednesday afternoon and went over some ideas of things to do and try out during her stay. Even though it was a little chilly (I’ll have you know it was 80 degrees the weekend prior), the afternoon she arrived was supposed to be the warmest of the days while she was here so I suggested we pack up a picnic and head out to Arrington Vineyards. I had never been before but had been told by many people that I should go if I had the chance. We packed up supplies in the largest beach tote known to man, picked up some cheese and olives at Whole Foods and headed on our merry way.

After a scenic drive away from the city, we arrived at Arrington Vineyards for our free wine tasting. Our server gave us his spiel, telling us we could try up to 8 different wines. I asked Blair how many she was going to try, to which she replied, “8! I’m on vacation!” I like the way she thinks. No wonder we’re friends.

We were both starving and decided to nosh on the cute little crackers offered at the tasting to cleanse the palate between wines. Blair referred to them as cracker pillows, because they did indeed look like pillows made out of a cracker. Our server agreed and we giggled about it for a good 5 minutes. For the record, this was before we had sampled any wine, which was unfortunate for Blair who tasted the crackers first. I asked her how they tasted as she chewed for an eternity.

“Very…dry. They make you thirsty. In a bad way.”

I tried one or four also and concluded that they were indeed the driest crackers I’d ever tasted. Who knew something so small and cute was capable of robbing your mouth of all moisture. Perhaps they should use them at the dentist instead of that terrible saliva sucker thing…

For the rest of the trip, Blair and I referred to anything or anyone who put a damper on things as a cracker pillow. As in, “Man, he was a real cracker pillow.”

Anyway, we tasted our 8 wines and decided on a bottle to purchase and enjoy with our picnic.

I went to the car to retrieve the picnic and as I walked back up to the porch, I got several comments on my monstrosity of a bag. It really does come in handy on such occasions.

We set up our spread and caught up for several hours as we enjoyed our wine and cheese. The sun began to set on the Vineyard and it was time to pack up and get ready to go downtown for dinner.

Normally, if I’m trying to ensure that my guests have a good time and/or trying to convince them to move to Nashville, I take them to places that I have been to and know are worth returning to. I hadn’t been to Arrington Vineyards, but that was a hit so I continued breaking my rules that evening by suggesting we try a new restaurant in town that I hadn’t yet been to.

We freshened up and headed downtown to The Row, which had just opened the week before. We arrived to a nearly empty restaurant and were seated in a booth in the corner under some very harsh, interrogation style lighting. We asked if they could maybe dim the light a little, which they couldn’t (poor lighting design) so we asked to move. We were re-seated in a very dark section and began to study the menu by candlelight. From one extreme to the other in the span of 30 feet.

The menu had lots of southern classics to choose from. I picked chicken fried chicken with cheese grits and bourbon sweet potatoes and Blair got the BBQ, brussel sprouts with bacon, and fries. What the restaurant lacked in atmosphere it sadly did not make up with its food. While it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t special. I know better than to order fried chicken with two grandmothers from Kentucky. Shame on me. I’m sure the restaurant would be more pleasant if it were full, but I’m not in a hurry to go back and neither is Blair, particularly if she has to come all the way from Boston. So maybe I should have quit while I was ahead with the blind adventures. Thankfully, Blair was willing to write off that one since we started off well at the Vineyard and had several days of pre-approved adventures ahead.

And that was just the first 8 hours.

Stay tuned for parts II & III.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Easter Eatin’

Posted on March 31, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Happy Easter, y’all!

I’ve been up to a lot lately that I will post about when I have some free time, which will be on the fifth of never. Just kidding. Kinda.

Even though these posts won’t be in chronological order, I thought I’d share my Easter while it’s fresh in my noggin. My dear little sister, Eugene drove down from Lexington, Kentucky to join me for the holiday. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas, which seems ridiculous since she lives only three and a half hours away. She arrived last evening and we went out to dinner at Germantown Café, which we had been to last summer for brunch. The brunch last year was fabulous and dinner certainly didn’t disappoint.

My friend and her sister joined us and we ordered two appetizers to share: pork belly tater tots and fried green tomatoes. I normally don’t like tomatoes but I didn’t mind choking these down one bit. They weren’t half-bad; in fact, they were more than half-good. The pork belly tater tots were slightly smoky, but not overwhelmingly so, which was good. I’m not a huge fan of smoky things, including cigarettes. They were very rich but quite tasty.

For my entrée, I had the fish special, which was a panko-crusted tilapia with a Puttanesca –like medley over parmesan polenta and asparagus. If there is ever a fish and grits/polenta dish offered at a restaurant, I will most likely order it. It’s one of my favorite combinations ever. This wasn’t the best I ever had, but it certainly hit the spot.

We moved on to Holland House for drinks/dessert. I ordered a drink on our waiter’s recommendation that wasn’t on the menu. I don’t recall the name, but it was a bourbon-based concoction that tasted like fall in a tumbler. Fall is my favorite season and bourbon is my poison, so I definitely enjoyed it. It didn’t hurt that Holland House is such a neat scene with its dim-lighting and parlor-like feel with just the right balance of rustic and refined décor. Initially I had wanted to sit at the bar to people watch and observe the theatrics of the bartenders making their artisan cocktails, but it worked out that we were seated by the fireplace since it was a cold, rainy night. We ordered dessert to finish off the evening. My sister and I split a flourless chocolate cake with a scoop of homemade carrot cake ice cream. The dessert wasn’t as spectacular as the drinks, but all in all, it was a fun evening.

After church this morning, my sister and I headed over to Pancake Pantry, which I have been wanting to try since I moved here. I was forewarned that there would be a line down the sidewalk and today was no exception. Poor Eugene toughed it out in the rain with me, each of us with a malfunctioning umbrella and no outerwear, for about 45 minutes. Thankfully, the food was worth the wait otherwise I think she would have killed me. She ordered pecan pancakes and I ordered chocolate chip. We also rounded out the meal with an order of sausage patties and hash browns. The pancakes were superb and the sausage was the good stuff. The hash browns, while good, were clearly crisped up on the griddle with Parkay margarine. I know this because Parkay has a very distinct flavor which I first experienced as a child when I insisted we purchase the Parkay spray margarine I had seen on TV because it looked like fun to use. It is not tasty and I’m going to have to dock Pancake Pantry a few points for this faux pas. They have a good thing going with their pancakes with whipped butter, though.

In my typical fashion, the visit was centered around food. Eugene didn’t seem to mind and I didn’t have to cook. Not that I mind cooking, but I still don’t have barstools so there isn’t a proper place to sit and eat a meal in my apartment. I’m working on it though. Thank goodness Nashville has a lot of great restaurants.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

One Year Sweeter

Posted on March 18, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Today is the one year anniversary of the Sugarlump, which means I have lived in Nashville for almost one year. Man, does time fly. I have a few reflections to share on this momentous day:

While I started this blog mainly to capture moments of my life that I never want to forget, it has proven to be so much more. It eased me through the transition to my new home. It has kept me connected to my family and friends who regularly read the Sugarlump and comment. In turn, it assures them that I am alive and well. Some of my extended family members and family friends have probably learned more about me through reading my blog this past year than they had learned about me in all the years they’ve known me combined. Whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know. I’m just putting it all out there.

Most surprisingly, The Sugarlump has connected me to new friends who I know only because they have found my blog or I have found theirs. Who knew complete strangers would take the time to leave a kind note or helpful tips? This blog regularly reassures me that this world is indeed full of good people.

This blog has given me the motivation to learn more about photography as it provides a great outlet through which to share the thousands of photographs I have taken since moving to Nashville. I apologize to my readers who don’t care for cats or weather reporting. I hope to get out more this summer.

Though I am generally journaling-averse, writing posts has been a kind of therapy for me. It helps me to find joy in the little things as I reflect on my day. It puts things into perspective. It keeps me connected in a more meaningful way. I never would have thought I’d call myself a blogger, but a blogger I have become.

And even though I have slacked off on the blogging as my life has become busier in Nashville, I hope to continue celebrating blog anniversaries.

Thanks to my faithful readers for all of your “likes” and comments. You make my day.

Love y’all,

Sugarlump

Tax Avoidance (Not Evasion)

Posted on March 6, 2013 by The Sugarlump

It’s funny how, when faced with doing your taxes, vacuuming the sofa and ironing your socks become wildly appealing activities. Suddenly, tackling that oil painting for my living room that I’ve been putting off since I moved in 11 months ago seems very urgent. Brushing the cats’ teeth and cleaning out that “catch-all” basket of receipts, screw-drivers, lotion samples, paperclips and nail polish is just too hard to resist.

Doing my taxes really isn’t all that bad. Because I own a business, I have an accountant who sends me a really nice tax organizer that makes the experience as painless and straight-forward as possible. Every year, after I complete the document to return to her, I remark on how surprisingly simple it was. And every year, I put off doing my taxes because something about it makes me want to do just about anything else. I can’t explain it.

Today, instead of doing my taxes, I’ve done 4 loads of laundry and 1 load of dishes. I’ve vacuumed, changed the sheets on my bed, rearranged the furniture and cleaned out the refrigerator. Then I happened to find myself at Homegoods where I purchased 2 mirrors that were not the size I needed, but I had to have them. Consequently, I have spent the last hour re-hanging everything on the walls in my apartment to accommodate said purchases.

At least I will have a fresh environment in which to do my taxes…whenever that may be.

Off to French-braid Scarlett’s fur. Doesn’t she look excited.

Y’all be responsible,

Sugarlump

Jailbreak

Posted on February 16, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Until recently, I had left Gus and Scarlet in my bedroom suite when out of the house so that I did not return to find them patrolling the top of the upper cabinets in my kitchen. I’ve heard that animals like to be somewhat confined anyway. Maybe somebody feeling guilty about leaving his/her animals in a small space made that up, but I was going with it. My cats had all of my bedroom, hall and bathroom to roam and they had all the food they could eat, water they could drink and litter box they could…well you know what I mean. They were all set.

Imagine my surprise one night when I come home from work and am greeted at the front door by two 15” tall furry creatures eager to see the world beyond the front door. I quickly closed the door and stood there for a minute, amazed that they could have gotten out. I have small French doors that must be very forcefully pulled open and closed for the spring to lock. How a 13 pound cat without thumbs or considerable muscle mass can open a door I struggle with on a daily basis is beyond me. I thought maybe this was just a fluke and that perhaps I hadn’t closed the doors all the way. But lo and behold, the next day, I was again welcomed home/hounded for food at the front door.

When my parents were here a couple of weeks back, we decided to run an experiment to see how long it takes them to get the door open. I closed the cats in my bedroom and headed out to work, leaving my mom in the living room. My mom texted me not 20 minutes later that she had company. Those little rascals.

I also used to close my bedroom suite a night to keep the cats from standing on the stove and potentially scorching a tail or two. In the middle of the night after the first few daytime escapes, I would hear the rattling of the door and then all of the sudden a click sound as the spring released and the door opened.

Turns out Miss Scarlett is the brains and the brawn of this operation. Gus doesn’t know nothin’ ‘bout nothin’.

I have relented and let them roam the place as they please when I am gone now. Although the other night, I had my hands full of groceries as I walked in the door and little Mr. Gus waltzed right out into the breezeway. I shuffled groceries at lightning speed and grabbed Gus by the tail to drag him back inside. I almost had a heart attack because there would be no catching that little booger if he got out and were beyond my reach. Ever since, I stick my foot in the door first and Gus has learned not to stand so close. In fact, the novelty is beginning to wear off and there are times Gus and Scarlett decide it’s not worth their energy to get up from their cozy perches to welcome me home.

I’m slowly losing control.

Y’all send reinforcement,

Sugarlump

Cause for Alarm

Posted on February 1, 2013 by The Sugarlump

This week has been full of surprises. Tuesday evening, I went to ladies’ night at a shooting range and got second place in our bullseye competition. Everybody watch out.

Early the next morning, at approximately 3:00AM, I awoke to tornado sirens. This was the first time I had heard them in person since moving to Tennessee so it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. My weather channel alerts on my phone confirmed that we were under a tornado warning and needed to take cover immediately. I grabbed my phone, the cats, two cushions from the sofa, and my laptop and closed us in the bathroom as I set up a little fort with my cushions in the bathtub. I then decided I needed a flashlight and a bottle of water. Maybe I should have thought through my tornado plan a little bit more. In my defense, it was JANUARY(!) and tornado season doesn’t usually start until spring.

Anyway, as we waited out the very strong winds and tracked the radar on my laptop, the cats could not have been more confused/annoyed. They kept looking at me like I was crazy and tried to dig a hole under the door to get out of the bathroom. Apparently tornado safety does not apply to them.

Thankfully, other than some seriously violent winds, we were alright. There were, however, a few tornadoes within 50 miles of us that damaged several buildings and pulled roofs off of homes.

Less than 48 hours later, the temperature had dropped nearly sixty degrees from the low seventies into the teens and it was snowing.

It’s a beautiful, sunny day here as long as you’re indoors. It’s a whopping 17 degrees at the moment and with the wind chill, it feels like single digits.

There is still snow on most roofs and school was canceled, which I thought this was pretty silly, given that we got about 2 inches of snow. New Englanders wouldn’t bat an eye at that kind of snowfall. But then I discovered that there was still some dangerous ice lurking around as I tried to speed out of the gate at my apartment complex earlier this morning. I spun in place for about 10 seconds until my Jeep finally slid forward, narrowly avoiding the gates as they began to close.

Like the weather, my garbage disposal has been acting backwards this week. The other day, as I ran the water and turned on the disposal, instead of the water easing the food down the drain as the disposal ground it up, all of the food and water spun violently up and out of the drain and onto me and the counter. The maintenance man just found a metal spear approximately the size of a chopstick jammed in the pipes, courtesy of the previous tenant.

It’s been a strange couple of days.

In other (likely related) news, I’m back to drinking coffee, but just a small cup. Hopefully, things will now return to normal.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump