I really like being right. I know the cost — it means someone else is wrong. Which, for someone who likes being right, isn’t such a bad outcome.
While watching Wild Robot before bed, Dave asked Evelyn if she knew what the robot was pulling out of the fox’s face. When she didn’t, he said, “Spines.” I corrected him, “Quills.” My rightness often needs verifying because, like any good competition, there needs to be a referee. A quick Google skim confirmed my victory: porcupine spikes are called quills. But then I glanced at the AI sidebar, which said, “Porcupines are large rodents with coats of sharp spines or quills.” Drats.
“Do you want to be right or happy?” the rhetorical phrase goes. I prefer coloring outside the lines, so I’ll choose both, thank you very much.
Right now, I’m typing from the bathtub — a first in our new house. Since I gave away my bathtub tray before moving, I had nowhere to set up my laptop. Remember the shelves we made? (I still need to show you how they turned out!) Well, I brought the leftover piece inside, and it fits the tub perfectly. It’s rough and unpainted but worked. Maybe I’ll give it a facelift tomorrow.
Speaking of productivity, wow — did I ever squeeze the most out of today. I planted bamboo, a fan palm tree, a kiwi plant, and a grapevine. Then I made sourdough pretzel bites, spinach artichoke dip, and garlic onion soup (thanks to Dave for all the help). I also finished staining the small wooden table and even watched last week’s Grammys. I was pleasantly surprised by the back-to-back performances from new artists. I love live music, even if it’s on TV, and I cannot get Chappell Roan’s Pink Pony Club out of my head.
Tomorrow’s the Super Bowl — the day I wasn’t doing anything. But just yesterday we invited Dave’s brother and his family, so now we’re doing something! My goal? To eat food. Followed by visiting, board games, commercials, and maybe the first minute of the halftime show.
Oh, and how long does it take to fill a pool with just a hose, you ask? We’re on day three of full eight-hour shifts, and it’s not even two feet up the wall yet. Dave says this will be the only time we’ll ever have to fill it, but I told him we’ll see about that — you never know when detectives might need us to drain it for their investigation into the random dead body we find.
The water and outside temperature are too cold for swimming in February. But it’s my pool, so I should get to do what I want. That means buying a queen-sized air floatable mattress for my whole body to float on. Maybe I can get Dave and Evelyn on it with me — that’d be fun. Can you imagine pillows and blankets on there, too?
So many pool possibilities are coming to mind, but I better change the subject. Dave’s bringing in a laundry basket of clean clothes and turning on the Kraken game. I should help him fold and hang out for a bit.
Go Chiefs? Or Eagles? I don’t care.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 