On the Radio

I think I'm a terrible person. (Don't everybody jump up at once to disagree with me.)

Let me explain. Despite Adam's near-constant mockery, I am a passionate NPR devotee. All the radios in our house are set to the station, it's the #1 pre-set in my car, etc. Entirely too many of my stories begin, "I was listening to this article on NPR..." I know I'm not alone in this devotion. (Jeff, I'm looking at you.) I have favorite shows (The Story, This American Life, Marketplace, All Things Considered), shows I like less but still listen to (Car Talk, The People's Pharmacy) and shows, well one show, that I nearly always turn off as soon as I hear the hosts' voice. What is that one show you might ask? Well, that goes straight to the heart of why I think I'm a terrible person.

The Diane Rehm Show has a strong, brilliant woman for a host; she brings on interesting guests who conduct well-reasoned, impassioned debates; she lets her listeners call-in but neither she (nor her producers) let them ramble endlessly...in short, I should love this show and yet, most of the time I can't get through an entire airing. Why? Because of her voice. And because I'm a terrible person.

Ms. Rehm has a neurological condition called spasmodic dysphonia which basically causes her vocal cords to seize up and constrict, cutting off her speech. I'd listened to her off-and-on in college (it seemed like WUNC was always switching her time-slot with Dick Gordon's late, great show The Connection) and I could hear her voice deteriorating. She went off the air for a while (or I was in class while the show was airing) and when I started catching her again her voice was worse, so much so that I could no longer concentrate on her guests or what they had to say. We moved to Chicago and WBEZ either wasn't airing The Diane Rehm Show or I wasn't in the car when it was so I forgot about her for a few years.

Now I'm back in Chapel Hill, back with WUNC and Diane Rehm is back in my listening rotation. This week she's had a guest-host on (she's been on a book tour) and I've been completely addicted to the show. Riveted. Yesterday I listened to the "Republican Agenda" (which naturally made me want to throw my radio out the window) and then a fascinating discussion with Keith Jeffery, author of a new book on the history of MI:6 (which I naturally added to my hold list at the library). Today it was David Plouffe and the "Democratic Agenda" (which made me want to scream for entirely different reasons) and then Annie Murphy Paul on her new book, Origins about how the 9 months before birth affect the rest of one's life (which also ended up on my library list).

I think when Diane Rehm herself return to the air it'll be time for me to put my terrible person-ness behind me and start fresh...because I'm kind of loving this show!!

How about you, any new leaves you're turning over this fall?

(I leave for New Orleans this afternoon! Have a great weekend everybody!!)

(Image courtesy of www.npr.org)

What's So Bad About Being Bad?

I was avoiding work this afternoon when I came across the 20 Worst Children's Book Covers and while I certainly don't agree with all of them (Robert Munsch's Love You Forever?!? That's a classic!!) Some were just so ridiculous I couldn't help laughing out loud. The Moose With Loose Poops...is that a terrible cover, a terrible title or both. (Terrible subject matter...why would anyone write this book...) What was your favorite?

Squirrel Song

I planted two pots of Black-Eyed Susans on my front steps, welcoming fall and any visitors to my home at the same time. They were replacing the yellow Ranunculus I'd killed a week earlier.

I could try to claim that the unusually hot and dry August weather was what killed them, but it wouldn't be true. I'm a plant murderer, a serial killer of all green, leafy potted things. My home is a roach motel, plants check-in but they don't check-out.

It's not entirely my fault, though. I'm aided and abetted in each killing spree by the damn squirrels that live in my yard. It doesn't seem to matter what I plant--perky impatiens, curly sweet potato vine or sturdy marigolds those damn dressed-up rats will bypass all the other plants on all the other steps/decks in my neighborhood to dig up mine. Sometimes they're burying their nuts for the winter, which I don't like but can at least respect, but in Chicago they used to dig up my window boxes to plant rocks! Rocks! It was like they were giving me the finger and tossing my poor petunias on the ground to wither and die at the same time.

I thought it would be different here in Durham, that the squirrels in Chicago were mean, fearless city squirrels and that the southern squirrels would be more polite. (Or would at least leave my plants alone in favor of the bounty growing all around them.) Imagine my surprise when I came home from work to find the steps around my Black-Eyed Susans covered in soil, the pots pitted with holes dug down exposing the flowers' roots. I scooped the dirt back up, tamped it down around the flowers and watered them, cursing the squirrels all the while. Two days later I came home to an identical scene. My neighbors have four potted mums on their steps, less then 10 feet away, untouched by the squirrels. I have two small pots of Black-Eyed Susans and I'm under attack. I think it's personal.

I hate those damn squirrels.

And now I'm going to go back outside, sweep up all the soil and start this dance all over again.

Dirty Little Secret

I have a confession to make. I've never read The Catcher in the Rye. Not in school...not on my own...never. I can usually blame the Navy for literary oversights like this (I never read Where the Red Fern Grows either) because with all the moving and changing schools, it was inevitable that some assigned reading would fall through the cracks. It usually happened like this: a school I attended in the 4th grade assigned a book for the 5th grade to read, I'd move and start 5th grade at a new school and at the new school the book that the old school wanted me to read in the 5th grade would've been assigned for the 4th grade. (This is also how I managed to graduate high school without ever having a school nurse check me for scoliosis, lice or give me a hepatitis vaccine. It's amazing how attached schools are to arbitrary rules and time lines.)

In many cases (1984, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Tuck Everlasting) where changing schools slipped me up, I managed at some point to find and read the book on my own. For whatever reason, this never happened with The Catcher in the Rye. I own a copy, it's on my bookshelf but I've never even cracked the spine. It's kind of embarrassing. When I'm in a conversation and somebody makes an allusion to Holden Caulfield, I nod and smile like I get it...and I sort of do...but in the same way you get Sex and the City from watching the TBS version. I know what I know about Catcher from listening to other people who have read it, from reading other books inspired by it and from reading the papers when J.D. Salinger died earlier this year. And the most insane part is that I feel guilty for not having read it before now!

Unfortunately, I'm in the middle of three books right now so The Catcher in the Rye is just going to have to wait a little bit longer (taunting me from the bookcase every time I walk by).

What books (or movies or tv shows) are you embarrassed to admit you never read (or watched)?

Image courtesy of: http://manhattanrarebooks-literature.com/

She Came in Through the Bathroom Window

As promised, here are some before-during-and-after shots of our semi-completed bathroom renovation. During the intercession next week I'm supposed to start contacting tiling/flooring people so we can get our kitchen and bathroom floors done. (They currently have REALLY ugly linoleum.)

I think this wallpaper pattern was decorative plates. It was pretty bad.

When we took the (first layer of) wallpaper off we discovered that the previous owners had papered over an earlier (different pattern) layer of ugly wallpaper. When they had trouble with the wallpaper glue, they used a staple gun. Brilliant, right?

When we got the second layer of ugly wallpaper off we discovered that the previous owners had neglected to prime the walls prior to putting the wallpaper up in the first place. Which was why we were peeling pieces of drywall and sheet rock off with the wallpaper.

At this point we had peeling, pitted walls with big gouges in them and Adam and I wanted to close the door and forget we'd ever had another bathroom. This was before we started sanding the walls. Then we primed the walls. Then we painted them lilac-gray which looks very pretty on the swatch but looks like you just spent an hour painting your walls dirty white. (Incidentally, we have a nearly full gallon of Olympic low-VOC lilac-gray paint if anyone's interested...)

AND (even with two coats) the dirty white paint didn't cover any of the gouges and nicks in the walls that we'd failed to sand. So then we really did close the door and forget we had a second bathroom for a while. We quit for the day. We ordered pizza. We blamed each other for the poor color choice. (In the interests of full disclosure, dirty white was totally my fault.)

The next day we returned to Lowes, picked out a new paint color, bought a bucket of joint compound and a second spatula-thing and attacked the bathroom with renewed vigor. We applied a skim coat to the walls, then we sanded them and while we waited for the walls to dry we thought about applying another skim coat...but realized that at this point we didn't care any more and it was time to paint before our attitudes got much worse. So we painted.

Ta-da!

We also replaced the hardware (towel bars, etc.).

Done!

I Don't Like Mondays

Long time no post! The last few weeks have been a bit busier then usual. The new job is going reasonably well, my parents came to visit and helped us do some serious house-work (taking down wallpaper, drywall repair, fixing settling cracks, etc.) and we took a Labor-Day-weekend trip to Lake Oconee which resulted in some much-needed down-time for Adam and lot's of playing with the nieces for me. I'll post some before and after pictures of our renovated bathroom later this week, it's not quite done yet but it already looks a LOT better.

Today was one of those mornings where I woke up and desperately didn't want to go to work. I feel incredibly silly saying this, I mean, come on--I work 4 hours!! It's like a paper-route!--but all I wanted was to keep the shades tightly drawn and pull the covers up over my head. It's tough to get into a Monday-frame-of-mind on most Mondays but today was especially tough because I'd had a really nice weekend. Lorene and Brett came to visit and we had a fantastic time together. Pizza at Bocci, brunch, walking the Tobacco Trail, watching Hot Tub Time Machine (which was surprisingly good) and dinner and live music in Raleigh...I wish they still lived in Durham. Sunday was spent the way most Sundays are during football season, at least when Adam's not working: Adam watching football on one couch, me reading on the other couch, the two of us talking during half-time. The only pall on the day was the Bengals loss (but I would think Adam would be used to that by now!!).

The leaves are beginning to change and fall has finally started to creep in on the everlasting summer here in NC. It seems like each time I step outside my door I can see a little bit more of fall and a little bit less of summer. Last week I met Erin for the first hot chocolate of the season. Now I'm looking forward to watching the leaves change on campus again.