Shit that nobody needs

There is just some shit that nobody on the face of the earth needs. 

Like this thing that is on its way to me.

I don’t need it, yet I couldn’t live without it. Because this thing will make the best pancake flipper that ever was.

It will also go with the theme of “house from found objects” that I’m going for.


I don’t math well

I recently ordered some coat hangers via the Internet.  Screaming pink velvet flocked slimline hangers. 50 shirt hangers, and 50 hangers I could drape pants over. I got excited about having a real closet again. One with lots of light, bright colors in it. 

Obviously,  I didn’t think that one through very well. 50 + 50 = 100, right?

Somehow, I neglected to factor that equation into my decision making process. I failed to consider what the fuck I’m as even going to do with 100 screaming pink velvet flocked slimline hangers. I don’t have hanging space for that many fucking clothes in this RV. I don’t have anywhere to stash 100 hangers in this RV. 

I did go ahead and swap out my current black, grey, and cream colored velvet flocked slimline hangers. I used just over half of the shirt hangers and just under half of the ones to drape pants over. Now I had giant piles of unused screaming pink velvet flocked slimline hangers AND a mismatched pile of black, grey, and cream velvet flocked slimline hangers to deal with.

I gathered all of the matching black shirt and pants hangers and made sure all of Sunshine’s clothing was all on matched hangers and saved the rest of them for when he has more hanging space. The mismatched black, grey, and cream hangers are in my truck waiting for me to take them to the charity shops as a donation. 

I have stashed the matching pink hangers at Indian the matching black hangers in the driver’s seat of the magic bus. Next time I get ready to order some shit, y’all make me do the maths first,  please?

Never ending tetris games

For the last 7 years (and counting), my life has been a never ending game of tetris. In order to do anything in this RV, I have to rearrange most of the room I plan to do that thing in. It’s exhausting.

I’ve noticed that my tetris games get so much messier when Sunshine isn’t here. I’m not sure why that it, but it’s definitely a pattern; and I’ve only really noticed it this last couple of days. I’ll get into a small project (like laundry, or putting away groceries) and most of the inside of the RV looks like a tornado went through it. Hell, sometimes even the OUTSIDE of the RV looks like that, what with all the empty boxes and bags of trash and/or donations that go flying out the door to be dealt with all at once when I walk outside for something else and wind up tripping over it all.

Maybe it gets messier when Sunshine isn’t here because I don’t have to listen to him gripe about how my activity is keeping him from being able to watch TV peacefully. Or maybe it’s because he gets so impatient with the inconvenience of having to maneuver around the mess of an upended kitchen while I’m canning. Whatever, I just know I feel freer to actually get things properly cleaned and organized when he isn’t here.

I’m sick of having to dismantle my kitchen and living room every time I want to can something, or cook more than a simple one pot meal. This new house can’t get finished soon enough for me. I’m so over the nonstop games of tetris. I’m tired of the never ending musical chairs game I have to play in this RV.

As excited as I am to have a small house with more storage, I’m also terrified of it. See, Sunshine has a lot of stuff. More stuff than we can fit into the RV. Every time I clean out space in here, he immediately fills it with more stuff. Sunshine is that guy who personifies the axiom about “the amount of stuff one has will automatically expand to completely fill all the space allotted to it and start taking over everybody else’s stuff’s space “. I know this to be true because I’ve seen it happen over and over again since we moved in here on July 1, 2010.

I don’t know how to stop his insanity so that it doesn’t take over our little house, but I’m definitely going to have to find a way. The never ending games of tetris are exhausting.

Going all in

So, I told you about the ridiculous couch I picked for my little house. Well, this week I bought some ridiculous throw pillows to go with the ridiculous couch. I went maximal.

I went for texture, and a bit of sheen, and a hint of purple.

There are two sets of the printed and pleated pillows, accounting for four of the six pillows I bought. The printed one reads black and gold in the pics, but it’s not black. It’s a deep brown that has a purple undertone. My accent colors are going to be deep blues and purples, so the couch can have some purple pillows to tie it all together.

Then there are the two oddball pillows that I just couldn’t say no to.

Yep, that’s a faux mink pillow and a faux silk dupioni with embroidery.

I have no words for myself.

final note: the pillows came from the thrift shop, and cost me a grand total of $13. I’ll give them a good cleaning (along with the couch) before they enter my house

Training a big box store

When we first started drinking our flavored sparkling water, we were living in east Texas. I got the big box giant with the blue letters and yellow star trained to keep tons of the peach flavor on their shelves for me. Then we moved here, and I eventually got this location of that big box giant trained to keep lots and lots of the peach flavor on their shelves.

side note: yes, it is absolutely possible to train a big box store. It took me going in there several times a week and buying up all of their available stock in my preferred flavor every time I was in there. Eventually, the inventory & logistics experts adjusted their ordering and made sure that more was in stock.

Then we had the “rule” that there would be no burning plastic in this community; Mrs B would be taking all of our plastic to her mom’s place in the next town over (where they actually have recycling pickup).

side note: I put the word rule in quotation marks because as far as I can tell, one person made that decision for the entirety of the community with no discussion from the rest of the community.

So we put 55 gallon barrels in the yard to collect the metal cans and the glass bottles and all the recyclable plastics. It took us about two weeks to fill the plastic one to overflowing. This situation prompted threats of a new “rule” that there would be no plastic allowed out here. I was all for it, but I wanted it to be a total ban on plastics.

side note” when I say total, I mean total. No plastic wrapped food, no plastic containers of fruit, no plastic wrapped breakfast cereals, no plastic k-cups for those ridiculous one cup coffee brewers, no plastic toothbrushes, no plastic shelves in the doors of the refrigerators (hell, no plastic shells on the outside of refrigerators), no plastic bottles of oil for cars, no plastic buckets of hydraulic fluid for tractors….. Yeah, you know that didn’t happen.

So I decided that, to reduce some of the contention around the amount of plastic we were using, I would buy my flavored sparkling water in cans.

That was months ago. I am still trying to train this big box store to keep more than 6 twelve packs of my flavored water in stock. I’m resigned to going to this store multiple times per week and buying up all of their available stock in my preferred flavor in cans, whether I need them or not at that moment. Eventually, they’ll figure it out and expand the amount of shelf space allotted to cans of my preferred flavor of sparkling water; then they’ll have enough in stock that I can reduce my stops at that store to once a week again. Until then, pray for the employees and patrons at that big box giant, because I hate going grocery shopping with a purple fucking passion.

final note: I know, bottled water is not very eco-friendly. I’ve decided that I’m ok with it, especially if I can train this store to carry enough cans, because I have given up so much in our journey towards a more simple, eco-friendly way of life.

Great Pyramids

No, I’m not referring to the ones in Egypt with sphinx heads and such.

I’m referring to the great pyramids we build here in murica.

These Great Pyramids are monuments to our consumerism. They are monuments commemorating our waste.

I wonder what archaeologists in the future will think when they excavate our Great Pyramids. Will they think that these are the things we valued enough to bury them in grand tombs like the Chinese did with clay soldiers and the Egyptians did with their gold trinkets? Or will they think that these are our modern day pirate treasures that someone buried so that nobody else would find it?

I pass this Great Pyramid every time I head to or from work. I pass this Great Pyramid every time I have to head down into Dallas. This Great Pyramid represents everything I was trying to escape when we made the decision to opt out and start living more simply.

This Great Pyramid is a symbol of the emptiness and decay that lies at the core of modern Western consumerist capitalist societies.

This Great Pyramid sickens my spirit, and makes me ever more grateful for the relative simplicity of my life today. It may not be easy, but it is simple.

We’re becoming quite the parking lot

Sunshine has two giant trucks and a jeep. I have my car. We live in a motor coach. Mrs B has her car. Mr B has his car, his truck, and 2 other cars sitting here (one for his daughter, one for sale, but still–they’re here).

Sunshine and Mr B both have four wheelers.

Sunshine has a boat and two trailers for hauling equipment (or cars or four wheelers). Mr B has his daughter’s previous car (totalled out) in the back yard. Mr B has some giant concrete pump on a trailer in the front yard.

Mr B bought that tractor along with 985839872098 implements that go with it so that we can keep the fields under control without spending all day on a lawnmower, and so we can plow the garden, and all that good shit.

We’re really starting to look like a parking lot out here. He just bought another tractor, along with 478 implements that go with it.


final note: Seeing this picture reminds me that we also have a giant green shipping container off to the side, just out of view in front of the bucket on that tractor. I’m certain there’s more shit that I’m forgetting about at the moment. Perhaps we’re looking more like a salvage yard than a parking lot.

UPDATED to add: just remembered that Mr B has a giant crawfish cooker that is seriously so giant it is on it’s own trailer. Cajuns, man, they know how to cook