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as though this is a thing
Tuesday, March 28 2017
One of the things Gretchen and I got as part of her parents' pre-move-to-the-Watergate downsizing was a set of shelves. I'd originally planned to put them somewhere in the garage, though at some point during the ongoing cleaning of the laboratory, I realized I could fit the shelving set (measuring 36 inches wide and 54 inches tall) in the laboratory. Today I installed it west of the central axis where its top met the sloping ceiling about equidistant between the laboratory's north and south ends. This made the space behind it a claustrophobic, dimly-lit prism accessible by a narrow stooped entryway, though it's a suitable place for storing things that aren't needed very often (such as what's back there: the pile of old semi-disassembled laptops and pieces of electronics that served me well in the 90s and that I hold onto for purely sentimental reasons). To get the new shelving unit to nearly butt up against an old CD rack to its south (which I use to hold and display jars of various small items), I first had to relocate a bunch of screws sticking out of that rack's north side that I'd used to hang and display various spooled commodities like tape and wire. These screws could still be in part of that CD rack, since the new shelf only butted against the west half of its north side, so I didn't lose much spooled storage.
Susan and David came over this evening to help us eat a homemade pizza Gretchen had baked. They'd brought a salad (it had a bit too much ginger for my taste) but no drinks, and then David realized he was so desperately in need of seltzer that he made a special errand to the Stewarts in Old Hurley to get some.
A good portion of tonight's conversation concerned Darla the Dog's new obedience regime. She is no longer allowed onto couches and beds whenever humans are around and she is crated at night. This regime will probably have to continue for the rest of her life but is necessary to enforce a peace between her and Olive.
Another subject of discussion was our newly-purchased house on Brewster Street, which has been undergoing a massive restoration at the hands of a general contractor (while mercifully not involving me at all). The only fly in the ointment on that project is a next-door neighbor who has shown herself to be one of those people who tries to get money from others by making up lies and lodging complaints. It all started with her calling Gretchen and asking why she'd begun the remodel of the abandoned house next to hers without first clearing it with her (as though this is a thing). This tactic didn't have any success with Gretchen, who basically told her to fuck off (and not very nicely, either). So then the neighbor started bothering our contractor, complaining about all sorts of damage to flowers under the snow and a stone wall. But the contractor had taken pictures before doing any work, so she really has no recourse except to go fuck herself.
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