Homemaking: June 2004 Archives

Well, the summer, at least. On this, the first Saturday of summer, I've been cleaning up after the excesses of the last couple weeks of counter building.

It's truly amazing how messy things can get if you're working on a project with somebody else. I've turned into a real fan of putting things away as I go; it makes the prospect of finishing much less daunting and also keeps things tidy while you're in progress. But when two people are pulling out tools and doing things and making messes, the overall effect is a bigger mess than seems really possible.

So I spent a couple of hours putting tools back in the tool chest this morning (what joy), and just went out and cleaned up the yard where we were working. I still have a pile of art supplies taken out for the end of the semester in May that need to be re-stowed in the accordion room, but at least they're in a single pile that can be carried upstairs.

And then there's the places where the dog has been coughing. One of the things about a sickness like Kennel Cough is that there is coughing, and dogs have no concept of how to cover their mouths. So I have to shampoo the carpet in the bedroom where she has been standing around, coughing on the floor. It's really charming, let me tell you. (Not as bad as when both cats had a cold and kept sneezing on me, but close.)

Let's not even talk about the huge pile of papers on my desk. No, really.

Yes, I get to spend the first weekend of summer cleaning house (and doing homework! Let's not forget the everpresent homework!). Of course, there is SF Pride tomorrow, but that's only a minor interruption.

On this day last year:

Let's hope that this time next year, any couple that wants to can spend $20,000 on a nice party for their friends and family. Isn't the second anniversary the "affirmative legislation" anniversary? Where do I register for legalized same-sex marriage?

When we moved out of the house in Berkeley, our landlady didn't return our pre-paid rent. She claimed that it was not her problem that we hadn't stayed in the house (this despite the fact that she'd moved things in to the house before we returned it to her, and in fact had come to the house and thrown some of our things out before we were done moving (I rescued them from the trash)).

We sent her a number of letters, explained the consequences of not returning the money to us, and yesterday, more than a year and a half since she was supposed to return the money to us, I filed suit in small claims court and had the San Francisco sheriff serve her with papers.

I hate having to sue somebody to get them to do what is right. But in this case, I don't feel so bad. This is the landlady who turned the house over to us with actual dirt piled up on the floor, claiming that it was our fault for wanting to move in on the lease date -- and was so terrific at ignoring our notices that the house needed fixing, who left us with a giant hole in the back door for months before we were able to badger her into fixing it. This is the landlady who said in the rental papers that she would provide gardening services, but failed to pay the gardeners so often that they came five times in the two years we lived there. This is the landlady who told us she was going to sell the house (prompting us to buy our own house) then changed her mind while we were in contract and instead boosted the rent by 25 percent. Then got angry when we gave notice because we would not be supporting her in the manner to which she had grown accustomed.

I could go on forever with her many faults.

Instead, I'm going to have my moment. We won't get everything she owes us, but we'll get our deposit and the damages we're entitled to (treble damages, under California Civil Code, and yes, I am going to demand all of that). It was a bit annoying to try to deal with government people on this (they seem to get really upset if you've never sued anybody before and therefore don't know what the forms are called, precisely, and refer to them by the title written on the top), but I walked out the door of the San Francisco Sheriff's office feeling a million times better.

Our court date is in August. We'll see what the nutcase pulls out to try to delay it or put it off. (And yes, I am willing to settle out of court, but only for the full amount I'm asking for in court, because of the extended delay and the avoidance tactics she's been using on us.)

Sometimes, people who knew me when I worked 20-hour days and lay under my desk dreaming about the code I was going to write will ask me what I do with myself now that I don't work. In between the going to school bit, which they seem to understand, but clearly think of as a form of socially acceptable slacking.

It's hard to explain what I do, mainly because when I'm not in school a lot of what I do involves rearranging things in the house, which seems like ridiculously little on the face of it. Yesterday I moved a huge stack of cardboard from one room to the next, then to another room, then down the hall. Don't janitors do that? Don't we know from high school that janitors can be stoned out of their gourd and still get the job done? How hard is it to move cardboard around?

Actually, it's pretty hard. Last Sunday, Noel put a bunch of audio gear up on eBay, and I blithely offered to pack the things up once my speech class was over. So Thursday morning (I allowed myself one day of rest on Wednesday) I stared at the stack and willed it to be a lot smaller, and when I finished, it was exactly the same size.

Apparently, that is not one of my superpowers.

I had been saving packing supplies for months. Months and months. I had them all over the house. I gathered them together in a gigantic stack in the living room, and sorted them out: styrofoam peanuts, styrofoam sheets, air sacks, shredded newspaper, newsprint paper. I taped up a box. I arranged packing materials on the bottom, then set the component in it, then filled it up. Taped up the box. Realized I'd forgotten what I put in there. Cut open the box, checked item again, and taped it back up. Wrote the item name on the box. Set it in the front bay.

I did this twelve times over, then packaged up assorted other items that we'd decided to ship. I used up all our packing supplies. And in the end, this is what I had:

The Leaning Tower of Synth Gear. Simply stunning.

And now we have to weigh and actually ship them all.

I am my father's daughter. I have a hoard of packing materials in the attic: a couple bags of peanuts, a variety of boxes, and so forth. Just in case, you know.

So a couple months ago Noel decided he wanted to sell all his synth gear on eBay. In part to get some cash, and mostly because they take up a lot of space and he never uses them. I told him I needed to have some time to build up the packing supplies stash enough to pack them all. So it wasn't until a couple weeks ago that we felt ready to get them all done.

He spent some time testing them all, then we photographed them, then he put them up on eBay on Sunday.

I offered to pack them all up for him. And that is what I have been doing all day. I packed and taped up thirteen synth modules, a camera, a lens, and a weird tool thing. These are stacked in the living room awaiting weighing.

I have one more thing to pack, plus a couple other things we found and decided to put up as well. The problem is that when I finished packing up the lens, I dused up the last of the peanuts. We are out of packing materials. If I had to ship another package tomorrow, it would be disaster. In fact, I can't finish packing the rest of these packages. It's a national disaster. What if the store is out of packing peanuts, too? What will we do then?

I was in the throes of panic when I remembered that I had hidden a reserve bag of peanuts in the attic. Behind the Christmas decorations box. Unseen by certain other residents who might make fun of me for having it. Just in case.

So now I can finish up some more packing. Because I had the foresight to save some extra peanuts. We'll see who gets made fun of, now.