All great in theory, but how does one hang a lantern without putting a hole in the rented ceiling? Command hooks! Yeah, those work great, except I didn't buy Command hooks. I bought some generic kind, but look... pretty!
But then it fell. Twice. I was not too happy about having to move the table and chairs again and drag the 253 pound ladder around either. After it fell the second time, I knew I had to get the real Command hooks, generic crap be damned.
I was not looking forward to stringing the lights around the overhang either, because, let's face it, I'm fat. It's not fun hefting this globular body up and down a ladder multiple times. Once I'm up there, if I get down that's it. I don't wanna get up again.
But silly me, I forgot. I've got Mikayla and she loves doing stuff like this. I'm a total advocate of domestic child labor.
Then she asked me how we were going to hang them up there.
Then it came to me. Paper clips! Yes, paper clips could work. If I had any, which I didn't. So of course I hunt Michelle down in her driveway and demand paper clips and lots of em. She put out, just as I knew she would and off Mikayla went, up up up the ladder. I was the paper clip bender and ladder dragger. Whew, it was hard work too.
Up and down, up and down, up and down she went. Do you see the size of that ladder? And believe me, it's even heavier than it looks!
Look at the pretty reflection in my just-cleaned windows. I love clean windows! I just hate doing the actual cleaning of them.
Next, I took the bulbs out of the light fixtures because damn, it got mighty bright out here!
It looks cute, no? And isn't it great that we have all woods behind us, no houses? Nice for privacy. That is, if Michelle's back porch, kitchen and dining room windows didn't look directly out on my bitch cave. I have to be real wily about picking my nose and such.
Anyhoo, I decided it was still a bit too bright, so I went to Wal*Mart (gasp... don't judge!) and bought a 25 watt green bulb. Now I truly love it and I'm even ready for Christmas! Shhh... don't tell ThatGirl. According to her, we're not allowed to even think about Christmas until December 1st. I've renamed her ThatScrooge.
Then one 70 degree night, Jimmy felt the need to light a fire. Ya know, 'cause we were freezing our Floridian asses off. Strudel was fascinated by it and kept jumping up to attack the floating ashes. I was just glad she didn't become a pupkabob.
And speaking of Strudel, I think we have the golden retriever from hell. Goldens are known to have a "soft mouth" and a gentle nature. I have scrapes and tooth marks all over my body that say otherwise. I can't even describe the pain when she latches on to my tummy's fat roll. And ooh, a couple of times she's come up behind me and actually grabbed hold of my sensitive inner thigh meat! A few months ago, my friend, Kristen, said, "You're the only family in the world that could ruin a golden retriever." Yep, uh huh.
Yeah, a pupkabob is sounding better and better. Anyone have a really large skewer they could lend me?
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