Today was a day of complaining. Perhaps you’re wondering why today was any different to any other day, when we’re always whining about something. But today we made a couple of complaints out loud, in words, and one of them was also in writing. We filed a grievance at Little A’s daycare suggesting that the “under construction” sign and the barricade blocking access to the stage should perhaps have been in place before our little girl smashed her noggin off the raw edge. It would seem to make sense, to us at least. It’s very strange when we have dropped off and picked up Little A since Tuesday, all the staff seem to be behaving oddly, being very reserved where once they were friendly. Studiously ignoring any mention of A’s injury, where once they would give daily updates on the tiniest of scratches. It would almost seem as if they were uncomfortable with something. When we went up to the office to make our complaint, I began to explain about the accident. The woman at the desk said “oh yes, I heard about that. How’s your new baby?”. Erm, well she’s fine, being that she is right here and all, maybe you might want to ask how Little A is doing, perhaps? Grrr. Some compassion it seems, would be nice.
Secondly, we are apparently in the realm of big-time construction again, in as much as we are having holes cut all over the house for vent work. Our contractor told us that we needn’t move anything and the people doing the work would be so clean that we wouldn’t know that they were there. That is very true. Unless, that is, you are somehow blind to thick coats of dust and unable to see large chunks of plasterboard all over the floor, then you might not realise that they’d been there. Or perhaps you do notice them and politely ask if they could use a dust cloth on the newly sanded and varnished floors. And then maybe you are told that they did use a dust cloth when they were working, and that the piles of debris on the baby room floor somehow happened after the fact, and that they don’t matter because no one is standing on them. And then seconds later another worker comes in and stands on the piles of gritty rubbish. And maybe you ask him politely if he’d mind using a drop cloth because once upon a time at least 3 months ago the floors were newly sanded, and he just snorts and walk away. And then you might find yourself sweeping up the rubbish and accidentally calling the contractor to complain. And then you might leave the house, so as not to start hyperventilating. Hypothetically speaking of course. Can’t wait to see them again in the morning; L and I did spend most of the evening cleaning up the mess and there is stil a long way to go. Plus the vents are big and ugly, where we were told that they would be small and pretty and discrete. Not smack bang in the middle of every room, and squint to boot. Harrumph.
But, on the plus side, we got our concrete countertops installed today (for free, wheeee!) and they are beautiful, really beautiful. Once L has grouted and sealed where the backsplash tiles meet the countertop I’ll post pictures. I thought that I would vastly prefer the butcher block countertop that was removed, yet appreciate the durability and practicality of the concrete. Actually, I think that the concrete is really pretty and shiny and nice. And cold, but hey, that’s what sleeves are for.
Additionally, today L took a Christmas tree from the roof of a car in the parking lot at the mall, walked away with it, and put it on the roof of “Moomya’s Minivan” as Little A likes to call it. We were testing out mall security. He got away with it. No really, we know the manager of a coffee shop in the mall through frequent visits (you’d be surprised) and apparently her husband sells trees. She insisted that he would pick one out for us and drive it home to her. She then put it on her car this morning and drove 40 miles with it into work. We went for coffee and paid her inside, then took it from her car, and drove it maybe 7 miles home again. It looks nice. Hopefully nicer than the ones for sale half a mile down the road from our house. It would have been funny if she’d called the police just as we went to pick it up, then denied all involvement. Well, maybe not funny exactly.
So, Super Mushroom Polenta “Lasagne”. It has more mushrooms, no sausage, and roasted peppers in with the ricotta. It is not super. It’s better than the meat versions but only marginally. I’ll leave it there. Tomorrow, Turkey, Tomatillo, and Bean Burritos. It’s got to be better than polenta, surely.