A pretty noteworthy day...

In it's ordinariness. 

We woke up early, thanks to some animales who were dancing for food and walks. Got back in bed though, for another lazy hour or so. Jean stopped by to drop off the wee table we were buying from her (for a whopping $3). Pocket fell in love with the table. 

We dressed and began unpacking boxes and folding clothes. Things suddenly began falling into place. We took a break and ran downtown for some bibimbap (my new love, with tofu and brown rice) and twigim (fried veggies) at Kosmo, then a walk through the farmer's market. Most stands didn't have harvested crops yet, so we bought some seedlings. We picked up some broccoli, green leaf lettuce, sage, basil, thyme, onions, and anaheim peppers. The seedlings have now taken up residence on the front stoop, where they wait to be planted.

We finished unpacking most things (even if most things aren't in their proper location just yet) and moved the rest of the unpacked items to one room, in the basement, which makes the house feel oh-so-much-homier. Mike's parents dropped in then with the traditional Jewish housewarming gift of bread (so you never go hungry), salt (for the sweat of your labor? I think), and something sweet (two-bite brownies, yum). 

After we gave them a tour of the house (which they loved), we took them to Zingerman's Roadhouse for the first time. Was that a huge hit! We shared an artisanal cheese plate as an appetizer, then each got a different entree. Well, Mike and his mom both got fried chicken, which I stole a bite of--heavenly. Perfectly cooked. I went for the vegetarian option of Carolina Grits with veggies and a cider dressing, or some such. It was topped with 2-year-aged vermont cheddar. It was amazing, and exactly what I was looking for. 

After they left, Mike and I were supposed to head into Detroit for some karaoking. Our day of productivity had left us exhausted, unfortunately, so we bowed out of those plans in favor of what turned out to be a God-awful movie--Blindness. We made it 48 minutes in (with 1 hr and 12 minutes remaining). We had some debate about which timer was which, as Mike couldn't believe we'd only watched 48 minutes of that dreck. So depressing. Watch only if you like watching dirty naked people stepping in feces. Dirty, naked, sad, depressed, blind people, that is. I'd forgotten already about the trend of making movies wherein the authority figures are nothing but torturers, essentially, against innocents and with no good reason at all. Oh, the legacy of Guantanamo. 

Now I am showered and pajamaed and ready for some bedtime reading of Helter Skelter (our book club selection this month). My house is beginning to feel like my home. Yay.

Also, a dream.

Two nights ago, I had a dream that I was sitting with a friend outside of a building when a limo drove up. Out got the one, the only, Mr. David Bowie. Only he wasn't mature, self-possessed, married-to-Iman David Bowie--he was Labyrinthian David Bowie. He approached us, shook our hands. When he got to me, I marveled at how soft and delicate his hands were. 

"You have the softest skin I've ever felt," I said to him, as he held his hand as if to proffer it to me for a kiss. "What do you use?"

"Oh," he said nonchalantly. "I have a guy. A lotionierre."

I nodded and released his hand, contemplating the tasks a lotionierre might undertake. David Bowie continued on. My friend called after him, "Say hi for us!"

He stopped and turned around. "Say hi to whom?"

"Henry," I said, as in my head, my friend's baby Henry suddenly became David Bowie's newborn Grandson Henry. David Bowie laughed. I woke up. 

Unpacking (and the desire for normalcy)

We've been in the house since Sunday. By Wednesday, I felt like I was going to explode. 

There are boxes everywhere still; I get dressed by digging through crates and finding the first clean and presentable items I can put together. 

The basement is still leaking, after reconstruction on the chimney and regrading the ground and extending the downspout further from the house. The B-Dri guy is looking into it now. 

I finally have a kitchen, but the only thing I've cooked in it is Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. I'm hoping to make a big pot of hungarian potato soup this weekend--while also unpacking everything and cleaning the old apartment so we can finally be out of it. It's also supposed to be 80 degrees; is it too much to ask that I might get to work on my yard some?

Mike's parents come to visit Saturday; Erin's coming over Sunday. Jean is stopping by Saturday morning to drop off a wee table for us. How am I supposed to fit in all this work and socializing in two days without waking up Monday feeling like I need a vacation?

New Things.

I've always been a sucker for new things. I like the crinkle of plastic and the gleam of shiny surfaces. I get drawn to products I'd never by when they change up their packaging. This past month has been a flurry of new things, all of which mean I will have a bundle of things to post about--and, finally, a means with which to post. 

First off, Mike and I have bought a house! It is adorable, 3 bedrooms, 1 bath, finished basement, 2 fireplaces, brick, looks out over a ravine. This house is totally us. We've been working on renovating it (painting, putting down carpet, hanging blinds, tearing out closets) for the past month. Finally, on Sunday, we get to move into it. We packed our first boxes tonight. After the weeks of working on the house, I'm already exhausted.

Second, I realized that I can buy computer stuff through the university I work at! This means I am the proud new owner of a Macbook, which I am using to type to you RIGHT NOW! No more shoddy and cheap Acer PC for me! No more overheating after 10 minutes. No more taking 5 of those minutes for Vista to boot up. Finally, I can write again.

Now I just need to find the battery charger for camera; then I can post pictures!