Reality Check

This morning, the 'chick was watching 'Leave It To Beaver' and it occurred to her that June Cleaver dressed nicer to clean the house than the 'chick does to go to work.

If you'll excuse Auntie Roadchick, she is going to slip into a dress and some heels and clean the oven.

Kleenex and Cough Drops

In the past week, the 'chick managed to catch a horrible cold? flu? and has spent days in bed, not caring what was going on in the world around her.

Last Tuesday, the 'chick was on the road for work, at a branch office a couple of hours from home. The 'chick was fine. All day. Wonderful. Full of energy and good cheer. Redneck called to let her know that he had picked up the headboard and delivered it to her house, but was going home again because he didn't feel well.

The 'chick came home, lugged the headboard and bed frame into the house from the garage and began ripping apart her bed to put the new bed together. She polished the wood and used neutral shoe polish on the leather and everything was lovely. She flipped her mattress and box spring up against the wall and hauled out the old bed frame (into the living room where it would remain like modern art for DAYS) and scooted the headboard into place.

Now, to assemble the frame. This should not be difficult, right? The 'chick has done this before. It would not hook into the headboard. Maybe a little gentle persuasion with a hammer. Which was in the toolbox, in the closet. Behind the flipped up mattress and box spring. Shit.

Scootch the mattress and box spring down, retrieve the toolbox, get the hammer out - back in business.

Pause to sneeze.

Ignore sneezing because obviously dust has been stirred up (and vacuumed away) and there was the polishing that went on.

Fiddle around with the bedframe some more. Attempt to hook in the footboard as directed. Fiddle, fiddle. Sneeze.

Fiddle a little more and cringe when the headboard falls forward and the frame crashes to the floor, just missing the 'chick where she is crouching by the footboard. Carefully pick up the headboard, scared that there will be large slashes in the leather from the hooks on the bedframe. Sigh in relief that all is still in one piece.

Sneeze, sneeze, sneeze.

Think about it for a few minute and say "Fuck it" - slide the headboard back to the side wall, move the frame pieces into the hallway and drop the box spring and mattress down onto the floor like a college student. Slowly remake the bed, retrieve the pillows from the couch in the living room, ignore the old bedframe in the middle of the living room floor, put on pajamas, dose up on Nyquil, and get into bed.

Get up in the morning to snow and ice and closed schools. Check the planner and see that there are visits that MUST be completed ON THIS DAY, or else. Sigh.

Wait a little while for the roads to clear a little, take a hot shower (hoping that would help clear her head), and hit the road.

Do the visits as fast as possible, not staying more than a few minutes and trying not to touch anything so she won't contaminate her clients' homes. Advise staff to Lysol after her once she's gone.

Talk to Redneck. Express her intention of going home and dying.

Stop at the store. Buy more Nyquil, toilet paper, milk, everything that was running out. Forget Kleenex. Forget to get anything to eat for lunch.

Go home. Unload everything, put it (sort of) away. Collapse onto the floor/bed. Look up in astonishment as Redneck appears and laughs at her design statement of the floor/bed.

Get up again, help him put together the headboard and bed frame. Feel vindicated when he cannot get the headboard and frame to mate happily without chiseling away excess wood. Remake the bed with fresh sheets.

Stagger around, finding pajamas, changing clothes, finally collapse into bed.

The 'chick did not stir from the bedroom for more than five minutes in three days. Well, actually, that is not true.

Redneck took her to lunch at Cracker Barrel on Valentine's Day. It was miserable, but only because the 'chick was too sick to enjoy it, unable to hear due to stopped up ears, and really uncomfortable sitting in an upright position for more than a few minutes.

Back home again. Back to bed.

The bed is lovely. It was not properly made until Saturday so until then, the 'chick had no idea what it would even look like for real.

But, health is slowly coming back and the 'chick is in the land of the living once more. Luckily, the 'chick's office is closed for Presidents' Day, so she has one more day to get herself together and clean up the house.

(The old bedframe was taken apart on Saturday and stashed in the attic in case it's ever needed again. The living room looks much better.)

Doing Her Part To Keep The Economy Strong

After a long stretch of hibernating, the 'chick finally left the house and did some shopping this weekend.

It did not start out that way. The 'chick intended to window shop, consider her options, weigh them carefully, and make an informed decision.

Redneck asked the 'chick what she wanted to do on Saturday, and since she's been kicking around the idea of buying a headboard for the bed, it seemed like it would be a good idea to actually go LOOK at some. The local Sofa Connection and More! is going out of business and there were promises of HUGE discounts. They lied. There was not even anything there worthy of a digital picture.

On to the next store. Rooms To Go. They had a beautiful headboard:


Beautiful, but somewhat pricey. $600. And very, very tall. So tall that the 'chick was afraid that her nightstands, which she intended to keep, would look like odd, midget dollhouse furniture next to the bed.

And the next. Ashley Home Furniture (or something like that). Prices here were more reasonable and Redneck and the 'chick found a possibility:


A chrome headboard with gray/silvery pleather panels. But very shiny. Shiny. Tinsely, shiny.

Roadchick asked nicely if Redneck would take her to one more place. Since he is so nice, he agreed and they headed over to American Signature Furniture. And found The ONE:



In the CLEARANCE ROOM. And when the 'chick asked Bob, the salesman if that was the best price, he dropped it another $50. So, a hardwood and GENU-WINE leather (black) headboard for $250. (Please excuse the table blocking the view of the headboard. There was not room to swing a cat in the CLEARANCE ROOM.) The 'chick was almost delirious. That red tag? That would be the "Sold To Roadchick" tag.

After so much shopping, you would think that Redneck and Roadchick would be ready to go home and watch TV. But no!

After a long hiatus, they went to the Auction. The good junk auction in Nashville.

Roadchick bought something that made her even more deliriously happy than the headboard, if that is even possible.

Roadchick presents:


The LED Flash Cross. Made in China. And contains, according to the package insert:
Elegant workmanship and wonderful design.
Brilliant saint light and splendid music.
Very good for keepsake.

When this gem came up for sale, Roadchick called Best Friend and asked if she would like Roadchick to buy one for her too. Best Friend declined but did ask the 'chick to stop by after the auction so that she could see this religious relic from the Plastic Age.

When Redneck and Roadchick arrived at Best Friend's house, Best Friend immediately removed the batteries from the remote control in order to power up the LED Flash Cross to see it in its full glory.

According to the Operation Instructions, this is the procedure to follow:

(Read carefully - all descriptions and typos are presented exactly as they are on the packaging.)

Open the lid at the bsck of the product, put into 3 'AA' batteries.
Insert the cross into the "U" shape base.
Push the swith to the left, 3 lights are on at the base.
Push the swith to the right, the upper light, left light, and right light are on.

The batteries were inserted and Roadchick moved the swith to the right. The saint light and lights at each tip of the cross came on. No splendid music. Roadchick tapped the base of the cross, to encourage the splendid music to come on. No music. No choirs of angels. Nothing. Just flashing lights.

Redneck and Best Friend's husband looked into the problem.

In order to have splendid music, the cross must have a 3-position switch. Alas, Roadchick's cross only has a 2-position swith. Ain't that always the way?

It was too much to ask for Disco Jesus to have music too.