Cookie Monster and Lost

When I'm at work, but not actually focused on my job, here are the kinds of things that happen:

Andrea and I were at lunch the other day. And Pat (the office admin) brought cookies and brownies to lunch – the Lofthouse super soft cookies with lots of frosting. Andrea exclaimed over the cookies, saying, “C is for Cookie! That’s good enough for me!”

I reminded her, “A cookie is a sometimes food. You know you cannot have them all the time.”

To which she replied, “You are right. A cookie for breakfast with my coffee. A cookie after lunch. And a cookie at three o’clock as a snack is not all the time. It is only sometimes.”

“Yes,” I nodded, “You are right. All the time is really a lot of time. A cookie for breakfast, after lunch, and as a snack is only three times in one day, which is certainly not ALL the time. To eat cookies ALL the time means you would have to eat cookies continuously, 24 hours a day.”

“You are right!” she said, and bit into a cookie.

Suddenly it seemed like Cookie Monster might not have such a bad deal after all.


Or a thought like this one pops up:

What if the people on the island on LOST had to repopulate the Earth? (Aside - David and I just started Season Two - no spoilers please!! I’m not saying I think this is a plot of the show, I was just thinking about it.) There are 43 people on the Island now. Assume there are roughly equal numbers of men and women. Because so many of them are strangers, if they had to repopulate the planet, could they? Is there enough genetic diversity? Or does the whole 6-degrees-of-separation thing that LOST has going on get in the way?

One thing's for sure. The new Earth would have some beautiful people. I've never seen such a collection of "normal yet supermodel-esque" genes. Really, what are the chances that 43 good looking people survive a plane crash? I don't think their lives are so rough... At least they have some pretty faces to look at while hiding from Smoky the Man Eating Monster and the Others.

Basement Pictures Day 2 and 3

I came home and saw this on our kitchen wall, in the alcove leading out to the backyard/basement. David had warned me they needed "access" to some pipes in order to "vent our downstairs bathroom". I didn't really know what that meant. These holes are bigger than my palm. After seeing those, I almost didn't go downstairs... But I did.

This is the sight that greeted me at the bottom of the steps. A quick turn to my right revealed our laundry room, which now looks like this:

That's the sump pump (I think) to stop the groundwater seepage.

This is the overhead sewer (to stop the storm water). Note the cutout rectangle in the drywall behind the pipework. That is our bathroom.

Or, rather, that was our bathroom.

I am trying very hard not to hyperventilate. I am still praying all this works.

And I am praying the plumbers will clean up after themselves.

Pics of the basement!

Hi all. Sorry I haven't posted. Internet at home is on the fritz. Here are some shots from Day One:

These two show the laundry room, where the majority of the work is being done. It was originally unfinished... but to see this is a little unnerving.

You can see here they've dug a trench (in which pipes will go to reroute storm water seepage)... The trench goes ALL the way around the basement.

This last picture shows the sump pump wells. Hard to imagine pits that deep are being dug below our home!!!

Using Panera's free Wi-Fi. Gotta run or I'll be late for work!!!

The Prep Work

(Warning to Oma:
no comments about me writing a downer post, okay? I figure this is important.)


And so it begins. Last night David started hauling stuff up from the basement so that we (or rather, our plumbers) can start work on Monday morning. This is what things looked like after about two hours of work. There's still a ton of stuff down there. If I can, I'll take some before pictures, so you can see what's going on. We - or rather, D and some friends - have to take everything out. It all goes. And then shelves are coming down, tile is coming up, and we lose our 2nd bathroom. While they're at it, moldy mildewy drywall is coming down, too. We're basically taking our (partially) finished basement, gutting it... and hopefully, starting from scratch.

Please, please pray for us. First, pray that this project actually resolves our problem. I'd love to never see another damp spot in our basement - but I suppose I could still be content if said puddles only appear near our sump pump well once in a great while (like, say, when a monsoon hits Wheaton). Please also pray for us. Stress levels are high. I want to be focusing on Baby Girl and celebrating her coming, and D would like to be focusing on finishing the album and getting it out. But the house... THE HOUSE... is taking over. Pray that we would stay patient, and work together on all these things as much as possible.

Again, thank goodness the Lord has provided for us financially in this. And thank goodness it hasn't rained in a week.

I'm going to be late for work if I don't go now.

Being Preggers

I noticed something on Sunday at church: My belly gets me lots of attention.

Case in point: I decided to wear a maternity dress to church the other day because we are finally having some spring weather here. Over 10 people commented on how I looked (I just did a count in my head.) - and those were people I knew. But what was fascinating to me yesterday was that three women I did not know walked up to me, introduced themselves, and chatted with me about being preggers. Go figure.

Here are some of my favorite comments from Sunday. To my gentler readers - please don't be offended. And please remember I was at church...

"Oh, now you look cute. I imagine those dresses are more comfortable than pants?" (Now? Now? Just what does that mean?)
"Well, look at you! You don't look too uncomfortable or sore or anything." (No, not right now, but you should see me try to get out of bed in the morning.)
"You can't even tell you're pregnant from behind!" (Hmm... people contemplating my behind...)
"Oh, you just wait. You'll gain weight, especially in your chest! When I was pregnant, my boobs started at my collarbone! My husband loved it! (Your collarbone? Really??)
"You know, you don't look like you're getting it too bad!" (Like a bad case of the chicken pox, or what?)
"You don't know me. But I just have to tell you, I've loved watching your belly grow." (Uh... gee... thanks.)
Rub rub, pat pat. "Oh my GOSH! I had no idea you were pregnant!" (Yes, but I've talked with you at least five times since I found out I was pregnant. Just what did I look like before?)
"Be careful how much pink you let your daughter wear - my daughter is a pink-hater now!" (?)

It's the weirdest thing. I mean, I'm teasing, I know, but I think I appreciate it. Still, it sort of makes me marvel at how little attention I was paid before the belly appeared. I mean, everyone knows David. And so, if anyone met me, the first comment of comprehension/connection usually was, "Oh, your husband David is up front! I love his voice (violin playing, worship...etc.)." When I finally got involved in the Children's Ministry at church I established a bit of a face for myself. But the belly by far takes the cake. Suddenly it feels like everyone has their eyes on me.

And the ironic thing is, I'll probably miss all the attention after she's born.

PS 25 weeks and counting.

Surviving on Venus

So Google tells me that today is Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli's 174th birthday. Apparently, a long, long time ago, he drew a map of what he imagined was Mars, and his work apparently "started a revolution in astronomy." I should probably know who he is. I don't. I bet D and his family do.

Google's homepage got me thinking about Ray Bradbury, the science fiction author. Images of Mr. Bradbury had actually been dancing around in my head for a few days, so it was kind of an interesting coincidence to see something space-y broadcast on Google. Bradbury was fascinated with space - quite often with Mars, but really, space in general. He wrote some fantastically creepy stuff. I was introduced to his short stories in 8th grade, when my English teacher started reading, The Illustrated Man aloud to us in class. The first story in that book is one called, "The Veldt". (In case any readers are curious, it's a tale of a futuristic family that has a 3-D, interactive nursery for their kids. The kids imagine their surroundings, the walls of the nursery change, and voila! they can spend the afternoon playing in a virtual wonderland. Of course, the nursery is supposed to be imaginary - their surroundings aren't real. But the nursery malfunctions. And the results are terrifying.) To this day, I mark it as one of the best stories I've ever heard.

But "The Veldt" is not the reason for my recent Bradbury fixation. A little further on in the collection is one entitled, "The Long Rain". Here's the opening line: "The rain continued. It was a hard rain, a perpetual rain, a sweating and streaming rain; it was a mizzle, a downpour, a fountain..."

It's about several men who have crashed their space ship on Venus. Since no one really knew anything about our solar system back in the 50's, Bradbury has imagined this - the perpetual rain, unfit for humans. The small band of astronauts are in search of a "Sun Dome" - a biosphere built by our government, full of creature comforts, and a replica of our Sun, in which humans can survive. Apparently, the constant downpour on Venus drives men insane. Or drowns them.

I'm sure you all can see where this is going.

Thankfully, we have a week of sunny weather in the forecast for us. Today is glorious - in the 50s. But last week we had 2 days of water, and we discovered a leak in our roof that empties directly into my closet. (The leak is easily fixable - not a big deal - just sort of frustrating at this point.) We now know what company we are going to use to repair our basement - but we found out that in order to do the jobs, we need to move most of what's in the basement out, up to the 1st floor. With the gathering baby stuff, my relocated closet, and now the basement stuff joining the first floor, things are getting crowded.

So much for our second bedroom. Ah well.

"Idol"izing

I'm an Idol watcher. I have to confess, I love it. I know it's silly, commercialized, and probably rigged, but I look forward to it every season. They're cutting the first two people from the top 13 tonight. Jorge and Anoop are waiting with baited breath in the sidelines to see which one of them is getting booted tonight. They have to wait through a billion commercials, and a Kelly Clarkson song. It's gotta stink to be them. I'm a little sad they are the bottom two - I have a funny fondness for both of them. It's true they didn't do too well last night, but still...

Here's my Idol question for tonight, though. What's the deal with the single moms this season? Seriously. Maybe I'm super sensitized to it because of my job, but there are two women in the top 13 with kids around the age of four. One is 21 and single, and the other 22 and divorced. I hope America doesn't choose one of them as our next pop icon.

Ahhhh

60 degrees and sun. Glorious. If the weather were like this all the time I'd be content. Yesterday I wore my spring coat (a maternity coat given by a friend) and by the end of the day, didn't even need it!

I'm being tricked, I know. I know the cold will come back. But it's these hints that give me hope.

Musical Moments

Is it just me, or does your life feel much more like a movie when you're in your car listening to music at top volume? I've held that belief a long time. I'll put a CD on in the car, look out my window, and suddenly, I'm in a movie. Sometimes the scene is sunny and cheerful, sometimes rainy and pensive. It doesn't really matter. I enjoy it because I seriously imagine that my life has its own personal soundtrack.

The culprit this week? I was listening to 93 XRT early in the morning on the way to school, (sunny, blue skies) and they indulged me by playing Dire Straits, "Money For Nothing". (I know, weird, isn't it?) The minute it started, I was inordinately happy.

Speaking of music - you know what else makes me ridiculously happy? The fact that the Beatles can rhyme the words "meter" and "Rita". (Points to you if you guess the album I was listening to today.)