Lazy, Lovely Saturday
2005-02-05, 2:54 p.m.

Lovely, lovely day here, sunny and warm enough for the kids to romp outside wearing light jackets instead of heavy coats. I�m finally feeling uplifted by the sunshine, after a week of overcast doldrums. I�m trying to catch up on laundry, unpack and organize a few things, and have even attempted to bake a cake.

Attempted? No, I�m not a bad cook, but our new-to-us oven is fired directly by Satan.

The directions were simple. Preheat to 375 degrees, bake for 30-35 minutes. I set it at 350, baked for 20 minutes, and I have two round pans of pistachio-flavored charcoal.

I�ll have Hubby fix the thermostat, as soon as he�s available. He�s busy hooking up his Billy Badass speaker system to the new computer, crawling in the attic pulling wires, and finding he transposed the left and right speakers. Back in the attic he goes.

The two Neat Little Kids are over today, the children of the family that moved into our old house. Son and Neat Little Boy are entombed in Son�s bedroom, riveted to video games. Daughter and Neat Little Girl are hauling blankets and assorted doll stuff outside to play house. The cat, much wiser this weekend, is in hiding, lest he become the baby of the house once again. He liked the doll stroller just fine, but he didn�t much take a shine to the dresses.

Over our swimming-pool-sized tub is a small octagonal window, and for weeks Hubby and I have paraded in all our glory, hoping we weren�t giving the neighbors a thrill. The former owner swore the window was so small and high that no one could see inside. We weren�t too sure. We bought a sheet of the pretty vinyl cling stuff that transforms any window into faux stained glass, and last night I installed it. Now we have a bootiful octagonal wisteria stained glass window, and no more free peep shows for the subdivision. I am sure the neighbors will be forever grateful.

Hubby would love nothing more than for me to get a job, and I told him I had the perfect option: a strip club. Men would pay exorbitant amounts to get me to put my clothes back ON.

He didn�t share my enthusiasm.

The house is shaking, and I hear The Police emanating from our room at a ridiculous volume. He�s successfully hooked up his speakers. Coming soon to a Richter scale near you.

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