Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2002-06-27 - 7:27 a.m.

Chinese Puzzle Boxes

Have you ever really not known where to begin? I look at my bedroom, and I truly do not know where to begin. It's a forty-seven step Chinese puzzle box, completely opaque to me. I think, "I will get some boxes and label them," and go off full of determination - only to find the boxes I thought were empty now have things in them waiting for other things to clear, and I get distracted.

Would you like to know about those as-seen-on-TV magic sliders? So would I. I can't get the mofos UNDER there. The big desk is, shall we say, Ikea-quality - you know what I mean. So when I lean on it with all my strength, intending to tip it so I can shove the green block I stole out of the kids' old block set under so I'll have space to put the sliders on, it doesn't tip - it trapezoids. But I'm not giving up.

I bought a new coffee maker (the old one didn't burn, but it was so full of greasy smoke and fire-extinguisher stuff that I despaired of cleaning it) and we're making each others' acquaintance. It has one of those "brew-stop" gizmos, which I remember I had on my old Mister Coffee too. I also remember getting frustrated and breaking the sucker off. If you don't get the lid on the carafe just so, the coffee doesn't drip, it tries to stay in the basket, and when the basket fills the coffee runs out the sides all over the counter and down the dishwasher and onto the floor. This is not theoretical knowledge, here, and I confirmed it just the other day. Besides, what kind of a person steals the first cup of coffee while it's still brewing? Everybody knows coffee brewing isn't linear, and if you steal the first cup you're drinking espresso and everyone else is getting Nescafe. I have a weakness for instant gratification, yes, but I'm not STUPID. Well (mopping coffee off the floor) not THAT stupid, anyway. Gonna find that gizmo and break it.

The kids go off for nine days with their father, beginning Friday night. This year I am not making a list of things to accomplish which will revolutionize my life. I really have no plans, except the ceremonial Jack-in-the-Box taco (and I'm not sure about that.) I'm not writing a list because it would have to be written on a Moebius strip, and I can't find the Scotch tape.

I bought a new microwave, too - mine was burned. Microwave ovens have gotten mercifully cheap. I don't like this one. It's noisy - you can hear the microwaves racketing around in there, getting the food molecules all irritated. It has a carousel, and Younger Daughter likes to watch the dish go around. Younger Daughter likes to watch the laundromat dryers, too, which would worry me - I think anything that has the illusion of a screen is dangerous for her - except I like dryers myself. There's that semi-random floating that clothes do, almost a pattern you can grasp, but not quite. Beats the hell out of the Ladies' Home Journal.

I did find someone who will haul out the appliance graveyard. It's expensive to get rid of the things. I'm not on easy terms with appliances anyway; they turn out to be like relatives, unpredictable, volatile. And when they're departed, the arrangements are complex. But I think it's on my Moebius strip to have this man come next week and do the decent thing. Then I can put my car in the garage again, which will please Marge.

I've grown quite used to the little cafe table we've been using for dinner. It's a resin one intended for the yard, with a checked bistro tablecloth tossed over to neutralize the trailer aspect. It's tiny, which means it must be cleared before dinner. No shoving aside or stacking. This is a good thing - in time, I might even teach my children that "clear" doesn't mean "throw on the living room floor." (You don't have to KNOW something yourself to teach it, do you?) I have always wanted a long refectory table, but now I realize it's just more storage, and we'd be all squashed up on one end, refecting. So I may take all the leaves out of the JCPenney faux wood dinette set table (DiNETTE? What's THAT about?) and use just a small square. Which will work at least up until I decide to start another art project, anyway.

I'm now back surveying the bedroom. This is a Moebius entry. Work without end, amen.

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