This was a rough weekend, but life rolls on. There’s a sense of emptiness to the house, because I keep expecting to see Chunk hogging the warmest spot in front of the stove or taking up my half of the couch (not that he ever got kicked out of it, I always just sat on the floor). And it’s really weird to be able to pull up the blanket in the middle of the night. 30 pounds of cat made that particular task impossible. But he left behind some wonderful memories.
Today was good because I discovered our wardrobe is worth quite a bit of money indeed. We’re talking major Benjy spinnage. I stumbled on an ad for jeans at Nordstrom’s that have a (and I quote) caked on muddy coating that shows you’re not afraid to get down and dirty. And here’s the kicker – they cost between $350-600!!! Just think about that for a minute. Some fancy city boy will pay that much money to *look* like he actually made/built/worked with his hands. I’m totally outraged that I have not met that idiot.
Because I would only charge him $299.
There is literally a big pile of money languishing on the basement floor right now (don’t judge, tomorrow is laundry day). And here’s why my product is better than Nordstrom, and I dare say even Neiman Marcus, because they saw muddy jeans were sold out on Nordstrom’s site and hopped on that bus with a quickness. You don’t have to wonder what kind of knock-off, made in China, “mud” you’re really getting on your pants. I can tell you exactly what substance has fouled your fabric.
Want to really impress the ladies with your hard work ethic? I’ve got jeans with snags from bunny claws because I couldn’t get the Wheat Thins out of the box fast enough, and jeans that say “I fell into the hog’s wallow and slipped around for a bit before Gene helped me up”. If it’s mud and rips you’re looking for, I’ve got a pair with one knee torn where a giant turkey bit me. And I was so shocked I fell right into a pile of turkey poo. That’s like two birds, people. That’s the smell of money.
And if you feel the need to look like you know how to run a fence, build a barn, repair a riding lawn mower, chase down a goat through blackberry brambles, or rescue a chick that wandered too far into the woods, Gene can hook you up. Canning, painting, staining, chasing a dog through a sprinkler and slipping in the bright green grass – we’ve got clothes that have lived. I’ve even got a nice pair of khaki dress pants decorated with happy puppy prints, because when I come home from my city job after being gone for four hours and Gene opens the door and yells “Where’s mama???” the dogs totally lose their minds.
Our clothes tell stories. And if your clothes don’t, I can totally hook you up for only $299! Plus shipping and handling, and a small “You need to get out and live your life” processing fee.
I’m not kidding, I’ll even go down to $250. Because that’s what it cost to get our septic tank pumped this weekend. It all started last week, when I noticed that every time I took a shower, the toilet started to sing me the song of its people. And if there’s one lesson I’ve learned in life, it’s that if a toilet starts making any noise other than “flush”, you’re about to whip your checkbook out.
After listening to the toilet gulping air for a few days, it progressed to the throne refusing to do its job. Then the bathtub got into the action – whenever you dumped a bottle of Draino down the toilet and attacked it with a plunger, that’s where everything ended up. (Calgon, take me away indeed). Long story short, after doing some research I learned our septic tank had never been pumped. House was built in 1984… that’s some historic poop geologists would be interested in! Sadly, the septic guy didn’t see it that way and refused to give us a discount.