I can't quite decide what to post about...there are so many choices. I could tell you about all the furniture that has suddenly landed in our living room, or our venture in vermicomposting (that's composting worms, if you were wondering), or I could tell you about being stalked in the grocery store. Or perhaps I should say a little about all three, since part of the problem is I don't have enough to say about any single topic to make a decent entry.
The furniture is from J's mother's house which we are hopeful will sell at the end of the month. (That is, if everyone can agree on what we pay for, what we don't pay for, what we fix, what we don't fix, etc.) The moving van arrived yesterday with our share of the larger items. Some of the pieces we have made room for, but not all. I think I was a great source of amusement to the three moving guys. They would bring in something...it was wrapped so well I could never tell what it was...and ask where I wanted it. So, I would have to ask what it was and they would unwrap it. Upon seeing what was arriving, I would say something along the lines of, "Ohhhh, I didn't know that was coming. Well....just put it in the living room for right now." (This has to be heard in the vaguest voice possible.) While not hysterical, long about the 5th or 6th time I could tell the movers were becoming quite amused. The funniest moment for me was when one of them brought in a box and asked where I wanted it. "It's full of wood," he says. I'm sure I baffled him since I actually had a place for it (unlike some of the seemingly more useful items.) It was a box of wooden blocks, and of course it went with all of our other blocks.
Right after our living room became a public storage look-a-like, we all piled into the van to go to the vermicomposting class I signed us up for. This seemed like a good idea. I had been meaning to do some composting, all the children like worms, and the worms have the added benefit of providing food for the various reptiles and amphibians in residence when other sources of food run low. When I signed-up, the description of the class said that we would come home with a vermicomposting set-up. Silly me, I took this to mean that we would come home with actual worms. But, I was wrong. Instead I paid for the most expensive plastic bucket and shredded newspaper I will ever buy...and still no worms. Now all of the children are excited about feeding the worms so I will have to buy them. Our (very expensive) bucket can hold ~1 pound of worms, or about 1000 of the wiggly things. I was shocked to discover that red worms run about $25.00 a pound. That's more than steak; the frogs and turtle are going to be living well. Plus, our 1000 worms will be able to eat and consequently compost about one pound of vegetable matter a week, which sounds reasonable until you find out that a 2-person household generates about 5 pounds of vegetable matter a week. I'm not turning over a room (which is what our family of 8 would need) to worms so we can compost it all.
And to generate that much vegetable matter, it has to be purchased somewhere, which is why I was doing the grocery shopping today. At my the third of my regular grocery stores (don't ask, I'll blog about it someday), I was busy doing my comparison shopping (always look at the price per ounce on the sign, sometimes the smaller container is a better deal), an older man makes a comment to me. I always try to be nice, so I respond and go on my way. I didn't think anything about it until out of nowhere he approaches me again and says something. I respond again, perhaps not quite as cheerfully as the first time, and think it's odd. The third time he appears, I'm starting to become annoyed and am happy I'm done and can leave. As I push my cart toward my van, a car pulls up and the driver motions to me. I think it must be someone asking directions (I know, I know, it's amazing that I've made it to my 40th year), so I stop and it's the same guy again. This time he announced that he's a very good cook and would I like to come to his house for dinner. I reply that I'm sure my husband wouldn't like it and without missing a beat he says that's all right, he has a wife and we can both come. (So, now he is a jerk as well as a creep.) Always polite, I ask if that includes my 6 children. This does make him pause slightly then he ruefully shakes his head, says he has four and I have him beat and drives off. At this point I'm not sure whether to start laughing or call the police. I decided on the former, but compulsively kept checking my rear-view mirror all the way home.