Birdshit, Window & Concrete Cleaner...

Yesterday, I just got my hair cut, and I was on my way to the gas station when, *WHAP!* the biggest pile of birdshit I've ever seen hits my windshield. After I composed myself, and stopped screaming like a little girl, I was rather impressed. I remarked out loud, "Must've been a big bird."
So... as I'm filling the car with gas, I remember to buy some window washing fluid. The melting snow, sand and other dirt have made a mess of the car and the windows. I also decide to get the car washed rather than scrape the birdshit off with my ice scraper.

They did a really crappy job on the car... Yeah, the birdshit is gone, but now I have a partially clean car with big dirt streaks and spots. Oh well.. a battle for another day.

I came home and parked in the garage, and later... Mrs. eSquared and I come home from dinner and there is a huge puddle (more like a pond) if iridescent fluid under my car. I think it's antifreeze.

So... this morning, I pull the car out and get ready to crawl under to see what fresh evil my car has for me. I put my finger in the pond, which over night has sprouted rivers and tributaries.

"Humm... doesnt feel like antifreeze."
"Humm... doesnt smell like antifreeze."
"Humm... doesnt taste like antifreeze." It's window washing stuff (breath of relief, followed by a lot of spitting).

Breathing easier, I sprinkled kitty litter on the pond and rivers to absorb the liquid so I can just sweep it out.

At this point, reference this post from July: Passively Crowing the Garage… & Mother Stuff

I come out later to clean up the kittylitter and find this:

A gallon of concrete & asphault cleaner. Lovely. Old Crow has left for the day.

Hours later...

A Crafty Crow

The clothes washer and dryer happen to be in our part of the house. As a student, and then as a post-student (read unemployed) I was home frequently and didn’t have a set schedule. We have had an agreement with OC that she won’t enter our living space without our permission. Well… this is an agreement only in the fact she acknowledges it, and then completely ignores it when we’re not home.

In the first year we lived there, we thought it was a nuisance, but something we would overlook. In the second year, I would confront her regularly (in the spirit of direct communication) and she would nod eagerly, apologize and then completely disregard everything I said. The third year I have threatened. I have printed articles off the tenants’ rights website, and even threatened to charge her $100 for each violation.

Up until I got this job, she would ask me weekly what my schedule was and if she could ‘run a load of rugs.” She was visible elated when I told her I got a job and would be gone all day. Not because I got a job, not because she’s happy for me and my family… because I’ll be out of the house.

Immediately, things started to change… chairs would be moved, rugs would be moved. Even the garbage would be emptied. Just to mess with her, I would move things back. I’d leave little traps for her. I’d prey on her OCD and leave stuff I knew she couldn’t resist. Once, OC left a message on our phone asking us not to put clothes on the backs of her chairs because it wears varnish off. Can you believe that?!?

It’s like she thinks we don’t notice. I think that’s what pisses me off the most. So on Wednesday, I couldn’t bear it any more… I called her and asked if she had some time, I went up there and mustered all the tact and diplomacy I could. Once again, she nodded and agreed with me.

Here’s the weird part of the conversation. She asked me if Mrs. eSquared was pregnant. We specifically hid all the books, pamphlets and baby paraphernalia to keep it from her. The old crow snooped her boney ass through our house and found our stuff!

She also told me that Magpie was moving. She is looking for someone to replace her (as if she can be replaced) but only someone who will be gone all day because she wants the house all to herself. Maybe she can find someone to pay her for not living there.

Magpie...

It was brought to my attention that I never really explained Magpie. And so without further adieu, Magpie bullets.

• She lives here during the week
• She has a house in Bellingham, but works here
• Old crow owns this house. She lives upstairs we rent out the downstairs.
• One of those houses that have a half-staircase going up, and half-staircase gong down from the front door.
• Magpie lives up there with Old Crow, she rents a room.
• Magpie is a hard, loud woman
• I saw her in Fred Meyer the other day... we completely ignored each other.
• Both OC and Magpie are long divorced, and their distain for things male (or just me) is evident.
• Magpie has a habit of heel-toe stomping about the house that drives me to distraction.
• It sounds like she is goose-stepping… with jackboots on
• Perhaps it's because old crow is deaf as a doorknob, but Magpie does not possess an 'indoor' voice.
• Every syllable shoots from her mouth like she is cheering at a football game
• I’m sure she is the nicest lady… just not to me.
• It is funny (for a short while) to listen to them watch something funny on TV
• OC: hee hee hee hee
• Magpie: HAA HAA HAA HAA

Oh.... I was going to call you.

Not that I had an especially busy day planned, but I did have things to do. Come to think of it, when I flushed the toilet it was unusually quiet. I moved over to this sink to wash my hands, lifted the faucet and nothing came out.

NO WATER... My eye began to twitch.

Old Crow has done this to us before. Once, she fiddled with the hot water heater and decided to turn the water temperature down to save some cash. After one shower I confronted her and she fixed it.

I huffed over to the phone and called Old Crow.

*ring*

E2:"[Old Crow]... its eSquared..."

Silence

E2:"... from downstairs."

OC: "Oowwh... I was gunna call you. George (next door neighbor who does whatever OC asks) is fixing the toilet. He needs to turn off the water for 10 minutes."

E2: "Some notice would have been nice."

OC: "Owkay... He'll turn it back on in twenty minutes."

Yes, I caught she just doubled the time. I just hung up.

I put my hat on, and went to run some errands.

When I came back (with grocery bags) Old Crow was standing in our dining room. I told her she could do laundry YESTERDAY. I'm still pissed about the water so I don't say anything.

Eager to explain, OC starts: "I was down here earlier and heard you sleeping. I thought we would have the water turned on before you got up..."

I thought to myself: "Did I hear that right? She was down here listening to me sleep?

Untitled Old Crow One

I was sitting at my desk yesterday when Old Crow ambled up and stood in front of the window. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes, and pressed her face into the Glass. We are face-to-face, less than four feet apart, and seperated only by glass. The window is also cracked open about 3 inches.

Old Crow Yells, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Yup." I reply in a calm, yet irritated voice.

Old Crow continues to yell, "OH... DO YOU REMEMBER THE MAN WHO PAINTED THE FENCE?!"

E2: "Uh... nope?"

OC: "I HIRED HIM TO WASH THE HOUSE TOMORROW. MAKE SURE ALL YOUR WINDOWS ARE CLOSED..."

I lost her at "...wash the house tomorrow."

Wash the House.

Pete the painter and his lackey have been here for three hours now. They just finished the area in front of this window.

Surely this is a prudent use of money; washing the house just before the rainy season.

Not that I blame Pete... If someone paid me (and a friend) to wash their house, I'd do it.

WTF!?!

It’s 8:10 in the morning. I’m in my underwear, sipping coffee, watching the Today Show and writing the post that will follow this. I hear the front door open…

Some Dude: “Knock, knock… Sundance.”

E2: [mustering my angry voice] “Hello”?!?!

SD: “I’m here to service your furnace.”

E2: [now standing in the hall… still in my underwear] “The furnace is in the garage, why are you in here”?!

SD: “Your Mom said I could use the bathroom.”

I feel an artery poke out of my neck, and my eye starts to twitch. I should have sent him up to use “mom’s” bathroom… but I wasn’t thinking…

E2: “Go ahead.”

The furnace repair guy, who thinks Old Crow is my mom, went number-two in my bathroom.

When I calm down, OC and I are going to have a come-to-jesus meeting.

Happy to hear from you...

When I can't avoid initiating a conversation with Old Crow, I am always struck by the enthusiasm with which she greets me. For instance, I am picking up the mail (that she insists on bringing in from the mail box) from a shelf in the garage. She is doing whatever she occupies her time with. For this example, she'll be going through our garbage to make sure we have recycled all the recycling. No, I'm not making that up.

eSquared: "Hi [Old Crow]."

OC: "Oh... hi."

Its as if seeing me is the biggest disapointment of her day. She uses the same pitch, timber and tone of Roz from Monsters, Inc. It always puts a smile on my face... always.

What Fresh Hell is This?

The other day, the lovely & tallented Mrs. eSquared and I were sitting on the couch watching some insipid television show when the phone rang. As always, I looked the the caller ID... "**OLDCROW**"

Reflexivly, I rolled my eyes and groaned, "What fresh hell is this"?

• Another three-day reminder that thursday is garbage day?
• She bought another squeegie for the shower that I won't use?
• More help pulling her car out of the garage?
• A reminder to change the dri-aire thingies in the closet?
• I left water on the bathroom floor again?
• The garage needs to be swept?

What could it be?

Against my better judgement, I answered the phone. She began the conversation by calling me Mrs. E2. I'm sure you can imagine how that went over with me.

Then she asked me, to ask Mrs. E2 if we had some of the lazy-susans that she left here when we moved in. I told her I remembered we had a couple, and she was welcome to them. "No," she says "I had six or seven of them." She continues, "And only if Mrs. E2 isnt using them."

I'm ashamed to say, that I saw this as an opportunity to pass this off on Mrs. E2. No go. She wouldnt have it. I was in this one for the long haul. Old Crow was still praddling on about re-doing her kitchen cabnets.

Six or seven lazy susans. What the hell? I thought that she was finally losing it. Her memory was beginning to fail her. There is nofrickenway we have six or seven lazy susans in our kitchen.

I decide to give her the one we are using for our spices. As I think about it now, I think we brought that with us when we moved in. Crap. Anyway, I root through some of the cupboards. Low and behold... I found five more. Right where I put them when we moved in. I took all six up to Old Crow and assured her that Mrs. E2 was not using them.

Looks like it's my memory that's failing me.

Serving up Crow...

My latest dish of Old Crow was served up earlier today, but its been stewing since yesterday evening.

I was driving in after two hours in the dentist's chair. I had a tooth filled and a frenectomy. Although two hours of Nitrous Oxide was glorious, I had a bit of a headache from the gas. Also, the lidocaine was wearing off and I was starting to feel pain. Now, the table is set.

I opened the garage door to see that OC had the backdoor to the garage open. Because it was Tuesday, I figured OC was putting out the garbage for Thursday. Yes, she puts the garbage out two days early. But that's another story. Here's a silly little illustration.


So... Simple enough, the door was open. No problem. I didn't pull in quite as far as I usually do. Grabbed the stuff from the car and went inside. Later, Mrs. E2 parked behind me, and came in.

Fastforward to this afternoon. I'm loading the car with a bunch of electronic stuff to recycle (fifty bucks worth of recycling). Of course, OC waits until I pull out of the garage and start fiddling with my cell phone to stand by my window.

When I notice her, I roll the window down:

OC: "I had to close your door last night."
[in the three years we've lived here, she's had to close it twice. She leaves her door open constantly.]
E2: "Oh"?
OC: "You'll need to pull in further, the door hit your car last night."
E2: "When I came in yesterday, the [other] door was open."
[silly of me to think I can reason with her.]
OC: "There was plenty of room..."
E2: [cutting her off] "Ok, my bad. See ya later."

My point in this whole thing you ask? To me its evident that she feels the need to bring to my attention EVERY LITTLE THING that we do that falls outside of her small world management plan. Nevermind the time she needed to change something with the electricity and just turned the jumper off FOR THE ENTIRE HOUSE! No warning, no up-yours, no nothing. Mrs. E2 was working on a paper at the time. Luckily, I have installed a universal power supply with a battery backup.

Look at that... its a two-fer Old Crow post... and a bargain at twice the price.

Chronicles of Old Crow

In June, both Mrs. eSquared and I had many important things going.  She was finishing a collaborative project for one of her doctoral classes, and I was working until the wee hours of the morning editing the UWB Policy Journal.  Incidentally the Policy Journal deadline had passed and it needed to be done. 

So... about 10 am one morning - I believe it was a Saturday, I was sleeping and Mrs. eSquared was on the phone with her teammate discussing multivariate statistics.  I had been asleep for about two hours.  The first thing I heard as I was rousted from my sound sleep was an aggressive knock on the door; followed my Old Crow cawing my name.

At that moment, Mrs. eSquared came into the bedroom (looking annoyed) and asked me to Move my car for Old Crow.  I was confused; I didn't know where I was and in my underwear.  Mrs. eSquared had to repeat the instructions three times before I understood. 

Some explanation:  There are four of us living in the house and each of us have a vehicle.  We have a two-car garage (with clean floors) and a two-car driveway.  Old Crow parks in the garage, and Magpie parks behind her.  This works because Old crow never drives anywhere.  Mrs. eSquared and I share the other garage/driveway slot.  For us, whoever gets home first, parks in the garage.  If that person has to leave first, I generally move the car; whoever's' it is.  Because of the summer schedule, the Mrs. and I are coming and going at odd times.  Therefore, I am moving frequently.

So... back to the situation.  Mrs. eSquared was parked in the garage and I was behind her in the driveway.  Magpie was gone, and OC wanted to pull her car out of the garage.  I find myself standing in the garage thinking that I am moving one of our cars.  When cognition starts to return to me, I realize that OC has somehow turned her car about 45 degrees in less than a half-car length.  OC went from this...  to this...

I ended up straightening out her car rather than move mine.  As I write this entry, it occurs to me that this was a better story in my head than on my blog.  Oh well.

When a Beaver has to go... he has to go!

I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago.  Things got busy and I never posted it.

This last Sunday, a friend of mine and I traveled up to the place where we will be having or annual men's group retreat.   This year, my friend (Village Beaver) and I are organizing the retreat so we went up to scope out the area and do a little planning.  The retreat center is in the Hood Canal area, and therefore about a three hour drive with a ferry. 

We originally planned to stay Sunday night, and return on Monday.  We finished our stuff and decided to come home.  We left about 6 and got horribly lost when we tried to drive around via the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.  Which, by the way, was backed up for two miles because of construction. 

We pulled into our driveway about 10:30 - 10:45.  Over the course of our drive, I mentioned that Mrs. eSquared was out of town, and the only the cat was waiting for me at home.

[sidenote:] Old Crow is very much like a real crow in the respect of her vigilance of being a watch-crow.  She is ever-watchful at her post in the upstairs window.  Her sentry abilities are second only to elite military units.  Either when I come, or go, I can see her beady eyes peering down at me from her window.  She wont just acknowledge and move on; she continues to stare even though she knows its me.  Its unnerving.

So... Village Beaver pulls his van (unknown to Old Crow) into the driveway and we both get out.  Me to unpack my gear and him (I think) to help. 

Not so.  VB b-lines across the front yard and starts to urinate.

I was oblivious to this.

The next thing I hear is Old Crow: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING... HEY"!

Still clueless... I say, "Its ok, [Old Crow] he's with me."

By this time, Village Beaver has stopped his stream, and is frantically looking for somewhere out of the spotlight to continue.

I'm beginning to realize what's going on, and start to laugh.  Mostly out of embarrassment.

While I'm nervous-laughing, my inner critic recaps the situation...

• Your friend is peeing on the front lawn.
• [Old Crow] caught him.
• She is standing on the porch, correction, she is walking toward you
• In her old-lady nightgown
• Yup, that's about it - what are YOU going to do?

Old Crow came down the stairs and heads for me.  I am vaguely aware that VB has moved to the other side of the lawn (further from Old Crow).

Standing in front of me, Old Crow greets me in her usual way?  "Oh... it's you."

Seconds later, Village Beaver has both Old Crow and I laughing.  For the life of me, I don't remember what he said.  He climbed back into his van, and sped away.  Old Crow climbed back to her sentry post, and I just stood there wondering what happened... as usual.

Passively Crowing the Garage… & Mother Stuff

This is a long, meandering post… stay with me

So I’m driving home… I’m both fuming and mystified. I am mystified at the COMPLETE incapacity for the Taco Bell by my house to get ANY order of mine right. I don’t frequent this place often… however, once in a while their Zesty Chicken Bowl sounds good. Today was such a day.

I’ll save you the terrible details; I’m fuming because I just can’t believe I didn’t check the bag… AGAIN! No doubt another month will pass and I’ll try again.

As I pull in the driveway, and open the garage door, Old Crow is dashing (to the extent she can) across the garage with a broom. She starts sweeping the floor… exactly where I want to park. It’s like she was waiting… “He’s home… I’ll sweep now”! Little did I know she was making a point.

Yes, it has occurred to me that she wasn’t planning on me coming home right then and wanted to sweep out the garage

I’m sitting in my car… watching this old lady sweep the garage floor, as I am deep breathing and trying to find a happy place… any happy place. She finishes, and I start a little self-talk while I’m gathering some stuff from the car and my INCOMPLETE, YET PAID FOR lunch order.

“It’s not her fault she’s crazy.”
“Just let it go… she won’t listen anyway.”
“Grin and bear it.”
“Smile and walk passed her.”

I have lunch, GRE study materials, the mail, my phone (and accessories) and a big coke in my hands, not to mention my keys to open the door.

The Crow says to me, “So, you guys don’t have time to sweep the garage”?

Side Note 1: She has NEVER ask me to sweep the garage.
Side Note 2: I mentioned in my introduction of Old Crow that she presses ‘mother buttons’ of mine that my mom doesn’t push. Passivity is one of my big buttons. If you want something, ASK ME DIRECTLY! If you knock on my back door, I reserve the right to ignore you.

When I hear someone knocking on my back door, sometimes I’ll play a little game with myself and try to get them to ask for what they want… like so:

The Crow says to me: “So, you guys don’t have time to sweep the garage”?

Deflated, because I almost made it to the door before she sucked me in, I reply: “It’s not a matter of time.”

She responds: “Oh, you don’t want to sweep the garage floor.”

Me: “Well… no. Would you like us too”? (Invitation for her to ask me)

(Pause in conversation… she is focused on the floor: sweeping)

Her with a hanging tone: “No…” (Invitation declined)

(Another pause in conversation. I see my opportunity to escape and I turn toward the door)

Her: “You guys dirty it too… going in and out.”

(So… she wants me to want to sweep the floor, and expects that I will take the initiative to sweep the floor, but she flat-out refuses to ask to sweep the floor.)

Standing there, I think to myself, “Right now, I literally can’t think of anything that is LESS important to me. Given a little time… maybe, but right now… nada.

Painting my toenails… more important than sweeping the garage floor.
Painting Wife’s toenails… more important.
Painting the cat’s toenails… more important.
Cleaning the goop off the liquid dishwashing soap bottle… more important.
Picking my nose… more important. Disposing the booger properly… more important.
Non-focused-thousand-yard staring out the window, until my eyes dry out… more important.

At this point, I lose the little patience I have for shit like this.

With my teeth clinched, and in my most mordant tone, I muster: “I’ll try to remember.”

For me, this is another way (using INDIRECT communication) of saying:

“When miniature, bald monkeys fly out of my ass, and bite George W. on the ankles.”

The Old Crow: An Introduction

The Old Crow owns a house in North Seattle, of which we rent the downstairs. It is a beautiful house and she works very hard maintaining it and keeping it nice. I’ll post pictures when I get around to it. Check here to see if I’ve done it. Yes, she works hard. As a matter of fact, that’s all she does. Her world is quite small, and very closely managed.

Rumor had it (from her daughter) that the Old Crow married young; back in the days where a high school education was less important than an eligible suitor. As a military wife, Old Crow maintained the home and reared the children. Unfortunately for her (and me) and also important to this story, she never learned anything else.

Old Crow is sharp as a tack. However, the only thing she clutters her mind with is the garbage & recycling schedule, and everyone else’s business. For her communication and social grace are as inexplicable and foreign as brain surgery to me.

Case in point: as I am pulling my car from the garage, she is industriously weeding the front yard—as she always is. I stop the car to fiddle with my cell phone—as I always am. She walks up and stands in front of my window. By the way… this is where most of our communication takes place… one of us in the car, and the other standing in the driveway; either one initiated by her.

Anyway… she simply stands in front of my window. No knock; no ‘roll-the-window-down’ gesture or no wave; just her four-foot-something staring at me through the window. No doubt I rolled down the window with an eye-roll—I hope not, but I think I did.

She says, “[Mrs. eSquared] has a flat tire.”
“Oh”? I say.
She responds, “Yup.”
“Thanks.”

She turns on her heal and goes back to the bush she crawled out from under.
I’m left wondering what just happened.

The interaction that I mentioned in my previous post has come full circle. It is mind boggling. First, a bit of explanation…

To know me is to know that I don’t like hot weather. Furthermore, we have had uncharacteristically hot days lately. Last fall I put a fan in the shed that didn’t work, thinking I would take it to the dump when I accumulate enough crap to make it worth the $20 fee.

So… again, just as I am pulling into the garage, she walks up and stands in front of my window:

Whirrrrrrr (the sound of the window rolling down)
Me: “Hi… hot today huh”?
Crow: “That fan… in the shed.”
(Awkward silence)
Me: “Yeah”?
Crow: “You uews’n it”?
Me: “Uh… I would if I could; but it’s broke.”
(Another awkward silence)
Crow: “OH, (looking surprised) I lent it to the neighbor.”
Me: (growing perturbed) “WHAT”!?!
I narrow my eyes as the voice in the back of my head tells me I can’t reason with her.
Me: “Yeah… it doesn’t work.”
Crow: “Well… he’s an electrician. Maybe he can fix it.”
(More awkward silence)
(Remember, it’s the hottest day of the year, and my repulsion for being hot.)
Crow: “If he can fix it, you want it back”?

At this point, I realize this is not a hidden-camera prank, or an episode from the Twilight Zone. I am face-to-face with the absurdity that is my life.

“Sure.” I say as I pull in to the garage and close the door behind me.

This marathon post is long enough. I’ll finish the story tomorrow… Stay tuned.

Old Crow & Magpie: Preface

People and cultures place birds and animals in certain esteem.  Generally, this regard is based on perceived mytho-poetic qualities in the animal and the psychic projections of the culture.  Shamanic traditions give totem animals para-human abilities.  For example, birds may be able to see in to the future or past to be a warning or reminder.

For my purposes, old crow and the magpie will not imbue shamanic characteristics, or even positive attributes.  On the contrary, rife with my psychic projections, old crow and magpie will assume human characteristics, but only pejorative ones.

Perhaps, dear solitary reader, you are ahead of me.  Over the past three years I have shared the stories I intend to chronicle here in oral tradition.  As I was fuming after my last encounter with old crow, I thought how perfect it would be to share these twilight-zone experiences with you.  

In an attempt for some transparency, let me say this… Both old crow and magpie push mother buttons in me that even my mother doesn’t push.  I realize they are just living their life as they know how.  And occasionally, I even feel sorry for them - however fleeting.  Mostly… they just piss me off.  If I wasn’t so close to the situation, I would think it was hilarious, and then I would praise Fortuna herself that I didn’t have to deal with them.