I just wrote a condolence note to someone who lost her spouse in a tragic accident. It’s not someone I know well but it is someone whose experience is close enough to mine that we have some things in common. My heart has been breaking for her, because she lived through a terrible experience and her husband did not, and it makes me beyond sad to think of what she went through.

I had no idea what to say, and that’s literally all I could say. I couldn’t find any words that represented how badly I felt for her. Just… sadness. 

This entry is part solicitation of your advice, and part test to see if Hubby is reading. But mostly, it’s an invitation for you, yes, you, to mythically spend my money.

We need a new roof. The present roof, it isn’t so much a roof as it is an overhang for the woodland village that has moved in under the eaves and scurries around at 3am. If it’s the woodland village that’s waking up my kids, this new roof can’t come soon enough.

We got the quote for said new roof from the contractor yesterday, and let’s just say, there were a LOT OF ZEROS OMG HOLY SHIT. We need the roof, we’re already adding on to the house, and comparatively it isn’t going to hurt too too much but OMG the ZEROS. ZEROS, they do indeed mean so much.

So here’s the part where you spend my money - virtually - and give me much needed advice. Our addition will include a powder room. We have yet to pick out the fixtures. As a general rule, I try to get Hubby gifts for birthdays and holidays that are either consumable or experiences to be enjoyed, and this would probably be a gift that would cover the next 2.3 years of gift giving: should I buy Hubby The Toto Neorest toilet, which, for approximately $5k, has a built-in bidet, air dryer and deoderizer, autoclean function, and a sensor that activates an automatic seat and flushing mechanism? There is no question that this is an obscene amount of money to drop (ha ha) on a toilet, but on the other hand, the roof is a FUCK of a lot more and that’s just going to bar entrance to woodland creatures. This cleans and air dries your ass.

What do you think? 

Yet Another entry Where agaiN I’m tired.

1. Stayed up until the memoriam part of the Oscars. God that was stupid. Heath Ledger is still dead, as are some other people I didn’t realize had died, and Baba O’Riley woke up at 3am for a brief cooing party that lasted until I changed his diaper, permitted him some time to chew on his bare feet before I put his jammies back on, and then rocked him to sleep while stroking his cheek. If it weren’t for the part where I was so exhausted it was painful to be awake, I would have enjoyed it A Lot.

2. Pass the coffee. Pass more. Thanks.

3. I hadn’t seen a single one of the movies nominated. There were some I hadn’t heard of. It was like watching the Grammies, except I knew who most of the people were, even if the movies themselves were a mystery to me.

4. Javier Bardem is from Canarias, aka the Canary Islands, and as such speaks Castillian Spanish, complete with lisp. I hate to sound like a language snob, but I was so excited and relieved to find that I understood 90% of what he was saying in Spanish to his mother (he dedicated his award to her, his grandparents, her grandparents, and all the people of Spain) because when I speak in Spanish nowadays, it’s usually to folks from South America or Central America. The accent and even the lexicon are so different, I have a very hard time understanding folks speaking at full speed when they are from Ecuador, Colombia, or Brazil. The folks I have the easiest time understanding are Cuban, not that I meet many of them. But to hear Javier (not “Xavier,” Regis, you putz) Bardem bust out with the Castellano made me a very happy Morag indeed. I haven’t forgotten as much as I thought I had.

5. Alert! I shall now break one of Morag’s Laws and speak of The Family. Enjoy.

6. Hubby’s aunt said something so stunning to me, there’s a part of my brain that’s still reeling that the words hit the air and were therefore spoken aloud. To me. While discussing that is is sometimes a challenge to parent a toddler, she said, “Oh, but this age is so much fun. But I had it better than you because I was home with my children full time and could enjoy them more.”

7. My immediate reaction: Laugh. So outrageous I can’t believe those words hit air for public enjoyment. Now? My inner child is busy consoling my inner mommy, who is very upset.

8. Reminds me of that song from 1997: “Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.”

9. It wasn’t so much advice as it was thoughtless heartlessness, but still, I’m sure there were moments of parenting in the past that might have made her want to tear her hair out. But 30+ years later, you remember the good parts.

10. Here’s a good part: we do Friday sabbath dinners together as a family (Jewish sabbath starts Friday at sundown) and this week we all huddled around the coffee table in the living room, since the kitchen is demolished and the dining room is now the kitchen. After saying the blessing over the candles, which signals the start of Shabbat (the sabbath), Hubby and I usually kiss both boys and wish them “Shabbat shalom” (Peaceful sabbath). This week, after I said the blessing, Freebird stood up and yelled, “Shabbat shalom!” and gave both of us kisses, then blew a kiss to Baba O’Riley. This is a very long story to say, “Freebird gave us both a kiss!” but the fact that he enjoys our Friday night dinners and likes to do the steps of making that dinner special meant a lot to me.

11. I’m tired. Have I mentioned?

Did Regis just call Javier Bardem “Xavier Bardem?”

Holy crap, Reg. That was lame. 

There is no wall in the kitchen, and while the addition is framed the only thing separating the house from the plywood structure is some insulation stuffed into the back wall which isn’t so much a wall but more of a used-to-be-a-wall.

Since the thermostat is a few feet away from that not-a-wall, it’s often very much affected by the cold since we got a shitfuckton of snow when the weather forecast called for hardly any.

So on the first floor, it’s cold. On the second floor, it’s very warm. And on the third floor, it’s Miami. In August. OMG. I think I got a tan just sitting up there for an hour. 

I watched the Democratic debate last night and gosh, darn, was it gross. Hubby loved it - but he loves political contention. I hate the nasty part and the slow thundercloud of trickery that’s on the horizon, as camp Hillary prepares to panty raid camp Obama and run his knickers up the flagpole, all in the name of getting elected. Hate hate hate this part.

But her comment about Obama’s use of other speaker’s language in his speeches (use with permission, I might add) just made me NUTS. “Change by Xerox” is what she said.

So this morning I took some quarters to the copy machine, made this handy-dandy PDF, and mailed it to Clinton Headquarters. Heh heh. Quarters.

Now I’m looking for an email address to which I can attach the PDF. You wanna Xerox some change and send it or download mine and use it? Feel free. Here’s the address:

Hillary Clinton for President
4420 North Fairfax Drive
Arlington, VA 22203

I’m not a big fan of politics, but I absolutely abhor the stupid, nasty, dirty politics. Clinton’s remark turned me off to the point that, had our elections not already passed, she would have lost my vote. 

Are you getting tired of entries where I talk about how tired I am? I’m getting tired of writing entries that make you tired by talking about how tired I am.

That sentence just made me dizzy.

So: an update. It’s 22 degrees outside, but because my house has no back wall since that’s where the addition will be added, the thermostat is running the heat nonstop. So it’s about 75 inside. I might end up with a tan by the end of the day. Holy crap.

Where are my short sleeved shirts?