I think that will probably depend on how well I follow instructions from here on out. The dance thing, I mean.

You see, messages come in all forms and from many sources. In fact, depending on your belief system, you may even be convinced that you receive messages from beyond the veil between the worlds. And, sometimes those messages come along with a set of instructions that need following.

I suppose at this point you are wondering what messages from the great beyond have to do with the picture of Evil Kat’s shapely gams over here on the right. Well, to be honest, both everything and nothing. You see I’m not actually going to go on about being contacted by the dead. I am, however, going to go on about messages. In particular a message I received just the other day, and it just so happens that it has quite a bit to do with E Kay’s shoes.

In particular, her Mary Janes.

(BTW, I’d have put the whole picture up there, however if you have seen the revamped cover of Perfect Trust, for which this was one of many shots taken to create the final collage, you know things were far less pretty above the waist… Not gory or anything… You’ll just have to read the book if you don’t understand what I’m getting at… But, yeah, E K was one of the models… How cool is that?)

And, back to our regularly scheduled blog…

So, E K has several pairs of Mary Jane styled pumps. Dress up, work, leather, patent leather,  canvas, heels, flats, wedges, brown, black, and so on…

You get the idea.

I couldn’t begin to tell you about the fashion statement surrounding these, primarily because I have absolutely no fashion sense at all. I will pair stripes and plaids in a heartbeat, so I am definitely NOT the go-to guy where this sort of stuff is concerned. However, as shoes go these seem to work for the Evil One, and I am perfectly willing to admit that I think she looks pretty damn good in them. This latter fact may have something to do with one of those childhood memories, that being the little blonde-haired girl next door when I was growing up. We were all of about 7 and I was crushing on her pretty hard. Being the style of the 60’s she always wore frilly dresses and patent leather Mary Janes. They say you never forget your first love. Well, I wouldn’t call this playmate from my childhood a “love,” so I guess that old saying applies to crushes too.

So, there you go. Nothing sick or twisted, just Id, ego, and superego colliding to stir fond puppy love memories in my heart whenever I see the evil redhead in her Mary Janes.

Okay, enough with psychoanalyzing the Murv…

Now, the thing about E Kay’s shoes is that while most of them reside in her evil shoe closet, there are a few pairs that occupy strategic locations around the house – i.e. wherever she happened to take them off. Of course, her evilness is still more conscientious about her shoe placement than the O-spring. If you go stumbling through the dark in the middle of the night around our house, while traversing the living room you will trip over every pair of shoes the child owns. E K, however, does place hers pretty much out of the way. One such “out of the way” location where her feet become un-shod – and the aforementioned shods remain – is the general vicinity of her desk in our shared office.

And yes, Virginia (No, not you Doc… No, not the state either… I mean the metaphorical and collective Virginia) this is from whence I received a message. I just didn’t know it at the time. See below…

If you look closely at the left shoe you will notice a piece of paper lounged out on the insole as if it belongs there…

You see, the other day I rolled back from my desk on a mission to put something in the cabinets on the other side of the room. Since our office is relatively small our desks are against opposite walls. When I stood up to make the 4 steps to the cabinets I had to step around the shoes. When I looked down I noticed this bit of paper occupying the insole.

I didn’t really think much of it at first. Her shoes were sitting next to the paper recycling bin and since she is a shredding maniac I figured that in a frenzy of potential paper-mâché production the previous evening a scrap had escaped her evil clutches in a daring attempt at freedom. Unfortunately for the scrap, however, it plummeted into her shoe where it was overcome by odoriferous fumes and expired before it could get away.

Do NOT tell her I said that…

I continued about my task, tucking some papers into a cabinet, then returned to my desk. once again stepping around the pair of Mary Janes. This time, however, I noticed that there appeared to be writing upon the bit of paper. Again, I didn’t really think much of it until several seconds had passed and I was seated back at my desk. Some manner of subliminal trigger clicked, clanked, or whatever it is they do and I stopped everything I was doing. The image of the paper with the writing on it flashed through my gourd and I screwed up my face in thought as I wondered, “Did that really say what I think it said?”

Now I was curious. So, what else could I do? I rolled back, turned around in my chair, then leaned over to look at the scrap in the shoe (all while holding my nose, of course…) And, much to my surprise, it did in fact say what I thought it said.

“Leave Treat”

I’d heard “trick or treat” before, but never “leave treat,” although it definitely sounded like a pretty clear instruction to me. For a minute I started wondering if she was trying to get in touch with her Dutch roots and thought it was Christmas or something. But I came to my senses and remembered she is primarily Welsh and Irish, not Dutch.

Then for another brief moment I considered stuffing a banana into the shoe just to see what would happen when her evilness came home. However, since I wasn’t sure if that would spark some sort of Freudian dilemma or not, and I didn’t have any Vodka or Scotch miniatures on hand, I elected to simply laugh and snap a picture or two, because it was obvious to me at that juncture that this would be blog material.

Unfortunately, I get the impression that maybe I should have put some individually wrapped Dove chocolates in there or something.

Why?

Well, what you can’t see here is the knobby tread this pair of shoes has on the sole. The reason that is important is that I am now sporting a mirror image of it all over my face. All I know is that E K was doing a lot of unintelligible screaming while she was dancing on my head, but I did manage to catch a little snippet about her shoes being empty when she arrived home and when was I going to learn to follow instructions?

More to come…

Murv

I’ve designated this entry “Part 1” because Hell Week Part 2 begins tomorrow morning at 9 AM.

By way of making a long story semi short for those of you who have only been following the bouncing blog for a short time, back in 2003 my father passed away very unexpectedly. His estate was split between my sister and me as outlined in the will. However, a part of that estate was his house in Saint Louis which was occupied by an extended family member, and due to a handshake deal with said tenant we were unable to sell the house. Unfortunately, at the same time there was also no income whatsoever from the house due to the same handshake deal.

Never make a handshake deal. That’s all I have to say on that subject.

At any rate, eventually the extended family tenant moved out. Unfortunately, in the midst of this move the finished basement ended up flooded into oblivion making it necessary for me and 16 of my closest friends to completely gut the lower level of the house, right down to the bare cement walls.

There was plenty of other damage to the house that we had been unable to repair due to restricted access while the tenant was living there, so we have been slowly but surely working on the house getting it ready for rental. You may or may not have seen some of my tweets about yard work, cutting down trees, cleaning, repairs, etc.

Well, in recent days, if you have been following me on Facebook and/or Twitter, you have almost certainly seen me lamenting my age, physical condition, and general muscle soreness over one of the major repair projects at the inherited property we affectionately call “Hell House.”

During this I took several pics with my cell phone, and as promised I am posting a few of them here. What you will see is only about half the work we did because I forgot to photograph the trenches and drainage system we installed.

At any rate, here you have Hell Week At Hell House, Part 1 (Yes, Part 2 will be forthcoming…)

Day 1 – Tuesday 9/8 – We thought we were 20 years old again. We went at it gangbusters, as if we could do anything…

After installing new pipes, GFI outlets, outlet covers, and valves on the sump well in the front of the house we elected to begin work on the massive project of repair on the rear sump. Upon inspection it was obvious that the concrete stairs and pad needed to come out and that a new sump well needed to be dug.

(Left – My contractor buddy Steve going at the concrete pad with a jackhammer. I had already been on the stairs with a sledge.)

Day 2 – Wednesday 9/9 – Muscles we didn’t remember having were complaining. On this day we decided we were 40 years old, which was still younger than we actually are, so that’s a good thing.

Finished jackhammering out the stairs and pad, then dug hole for 20 gallon sump well. I am fairly certain that we made it all the way to New Zealand. Also dug hole on other side of retaining wall in order to connect drainage pipes to the sump.

(Right – Well installed and leveled. Wiring run set in place. Preparing to install pipes so concrete pad can be poured.)

Day 3 – Thursday 9/10 – Aches now have aches. We reached a conclusion… We were no longer 20 or even 40. We felt pretty much like we were 60. Not good, because chronologically in real life we were still younger than that.

(Left – Pad poured) We were happy campers. You can see the form set up in the 12×12 access hole for the sump well. A metal grate was set into place and recessed so that it wouldn’t be a hazard, but was installed on a lip so as to be removable for cleaning and maintenance (or eventual replacement) of the pump itself.

Day 4 – Friday 9/11 – We arrived at the house ready to work. We looked at one another and immediately knew that we had aged 20 years overnight. We were now feeling every bit of 80 years old, and moving like it too. But, there was still work to be done and we jumped into it as hard as our now ancient bodies would allow.

(Right – Other hole to New Zealand on the other side of the retaining wall)

We finished connecting all the pipes throughout the various trenches in the yard, then back filled with chat and dirt. Once the pad had cured a bit we ran a hose into the sump well and tested the operation of our handiwork – Both for satisfaction of curiosity and to be able to properly adjust the sump pump float switch. Then, we cut, assembled, and installed the stair forms. By the time that was finished it was Beer-thirty (5 PM) and we knocked off work early since it was a Friday. Still, we ended up tinkering with smaller projects that could be accomplished with a beer in one hand until much later that evening.

Day 5 – Saturday 9/12 – We were now 120 years old, and felt every bit of it. But, the end (sort of) was in sight. A buddy from KC, Duane Marshall, drove into town to help out. We mixed concrete until we couldn’t move anymore, and managed to pour the stairs.

(Left – Freshly poured stairs with forms in place)

And, what would a Brainpan Leakage entry be without an appearance by Evil Kat… Well, you see, while unloading the extra bags of concrete, Duane (who is always getting himself in trouble with E K anyway) accidentally knocked a brick off the top of the retaining wall and it plummeted into the freshly smoothed stairs just about the time Steve was standing back and inspecting his work. It was like a scene right out of the Three Stooges. Duane apologized profusely, and after all, it was just an accident. Steve took it all in stride and fixed the stairs post haste. However, we couldn’t help ourselves. We had to tell the Evil Redhead. As it happened, when we arrived back home and relayed the story to her she happened to be holding a wire coat hanger. What happened next was… Well, let’s just say that Duane ended up doing a lot of standing because he had some soreness issues when it came to sitting.

Day 6 – Sunday 9/13 – The shortest day of the job thus far, and it was a good one. Steve and I were both actually feeling like we were 50 again, which is pretty close to our actual ages. If we continue the backward trend and settle in at around 40, we’re good with that.

We removed the forms, cleaned up the stairs, and did a bit of touch up work before calling it quits for the rest of the weekend.

(Right – “Green” stairs right after removing forms and doing touch up. You can see the metal grate mentioned earlier in place on the lower pad. The landing at the top of the stairs is the original and slopes toward the yard to direct runoff away from the stairwell which is why it looks uneven. )

And there you have it… We start Hell Week 2 tomorrow with a foundation repair, and finishing on the stairs. I’ll keep you updated…

More to come…

Murv