Saturday, September 22, 2007

Rear Window

Emboldened by the success of the drapery departure from the front window of my living room, I decided last night that the side window needed to have its stage-y drapes torn down too. (Yes, it's a side window, meaning that the blog's title isn't quite accurate, but Jimmy Stewart didn't make a sequel called "Side Window" or I would've used that.) My laptop's refusing to recognize my crappy digital camera as a removable storage device, and I still can't find the cable for my nice digital camera, so for now you'll just have to imagine the side window curtains. They're just a smaller version of what was on the large front window. And because they're smaller, I foolishly thought the hardware attaching the cornice to the wall would be smaller. Wrong. The cornice was held up by three 4-inch brackets, three screws each. No disassembly with a mere touch of a finger this time, but it was still only about a ten-minute process.

Those of you who are squeamish about spiders, don't read this next bit: The area between the top of the window and the plank holding up the cornice was a veritable catacomb of dead spiders. Seriously creepy. "Cities of the Underworld" stuff here. I considered spotlighting it and leaving it up as a Halloween decoration, but it's just too gross. I had to put on rubber gloves that went to my elbows and wear a mask just to clean it up, and then I ran all the way outside to the trash can to throw away the dead spiders. Can't take a chance that some weird chemical combination in the indoor trash can might revive them. Ewwwww........

So, I photo-documented it all, and then came into the dining room to blog about it, because really, I have no life. And I realized, looking at the dining room drapes, that they might in fact be even worse than the ones in the living room, so I decided to take a photo of them, too, and get everyone's opinion. But the kitchen door that's always propped open was in the way of the photo, so I kicked the doorstop to the side and got my photos. (We're talking about nearly ten feet of a bay bump-out with three windows covered by the most ginormous cornice I've ever seen outside of the White House--it really must be seen to be believed.) Photos taken, I tried to open the kitchen door. It has those big double-swingy hinges on it, so it opens either way--or, it would in an ideal world. It was stuck. So I really shoved on it. Stuck. So I really, really shoved on it. And too late, I realized that pulling on it from the bottom edge might've been a better idea. Now we were trapped--myself, Little Dog & Big Cat on the dining room side; Big Dog and Little Cat on the kitchen side. Now is a good time to mention that I have no hallway in my house and that the only way to travel from one end of the house to the other is to navigate through each room on that side of the house. I had access to the living room, the vestibule, the front porch and my bedroom; the animals had the run of the kitchen, my son's bedroom, the bathroom and the back porch. There is a door between my bedroom and my son's, but because we don't use it he put his dresser in front of it, thereby cutting off my escape route. My son! He can save us! I'll just call him....with my....cell phone.....dammit-it's-in-the-kitchen. Big Dog! He's a trained rescue dog! I put my face to the crack under the door. "Ivan! Phone! Bring me the phone!" I heard scrabbling on the other side and the squeak of the pantry door opening. "No, Ivan! Phone!" Now I heard crunching. Buy the dog a new box of treats and his months of training are lost in what might be his only opportunity at unfettered gluttony. Why not just go next door to the nice neighbors and use their phone? Because I don't think a couple in their 80s is awake at 1:30 a.m. (Pretty much all my neighbors are in their 80s.) Think...think...ah, yes, the seldom-used landline. Dug out the 70s-era harvest gold rotary-dial phone from the sideboard (where it's kept for just such an emergency, of course) plugged it in to the only working phone jack in the entire house--what luck!--and had a conversation with my beloved only child which ended with his saying, "Are you f*ing kidding me?!" But he did come home and free us a mere twenty minutes later, at which point I discovered the digital camera issue, gave up on blogging at that particular moment, and went to bed. As my Grandma Rosie would say, "Ain't life grand?"

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