Noises off
As you may recall, I have not been feeling my brightest and perkiest best the last few days.* So I went to bed early last night. I went to bed early for two reasons: first, not brightest, etc, and second, because I had the Rescheduled House Alarm Man** coming at the crack of dawn this morning, which is to say 8 am, which for someone who regularly doesn’t get to bed till after 2, is way earlier than I want to be dressed and coherent for.*** So I had the lights out by 1:30† and even more unusually went to sleep†† immediately.
I often turn the washing machine on just before I go to bed. I’ve probably been trying to remember to get it loaded and turned on††† for at least a day and last thing at night while I’m waiting for hellhounds to check every micromillimetre of their little courtyard for the ideal, the pinnacle of ideal places to pee, is often a good time to do it‡.
Last night was the first time it woke me up an hour later going bambambambambambambam. I still don’t know what was doing it; sure, I wash my All Stars in the machine, but I do not wash All Stars while I’m trying to sleep.‡‡ So I staggered downstairs, turned it off, groped around inside for the brick or fossilised dinosaur bone I had unaccountably missed when I loaded it, failed to find said brick or bone‡‡‡, muttered to myself about the Conspiracy of Made Objects§, turned it back on again, and went back to bed.
Silence.
UNTIL THE ALARM WENT OFF AT 6 AM.
Wha’? Huh? Whafahunh?
I staggered downstairs again§§ and discovered my little windowsill weather station thingy going BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. I adore my little windowsill weather station thingy (except when it beeps at 6 am) and wasted a lot of time, a year or so ago, choosing The Right One. The digital animations had to be not stupid, it had to have the moon phases (which most of them don’t), and it had to be itself small, plain and simple rather than a prize-winning 21st century functional art design, which is to say gets in your face and does not work.§§§ This one is all the desirable things. Except for the alarm clock. I did not want an alarm clock but they bundle alarm clocks with everything these days. You want a radio? Here, have an alarm clock. Computer? Alarm clock. Toaster? Alarm clock. New pair of shoes? Alarm clock.¤ I couldn’t get a weather station without an alarm clock. I’ve never learnt how to use it. It just sits there, stoically digitalling away. Unless, of course, you brush carelessly across its surface with a dustcloth, and turn something on.
Teach me to do housework.
But I was awake and dressed by 8. I won’t say coherent but I’ll say pinned like socks on a clothesline to the hot brown caffeine wire.
* * *
* I’m about two-thirds better. I think. It kind of varies.
** I’ve told you this before. I have a house alarm because I didn’t want to be the only person on the street who didn’t. I can still be embarrassed.
*** And the bed made, since the Occult Alarm Box^ is in the bedroom.
^ Containing a few of the magic voles that assist the magic hamsters in running the universe. The voles take over the little stuff that isn’t worth the hamsters’ time.
† Yessssssss! Believe it!
†† Hey! It’s only 1:30! Turn the light back on! We^ want to keep reading! And if you don’t let us we’ll lie here and keep you awake by sulking!
^Whoever we are, but as Peter says, ‘I’ is a committee
††† Preferably having also remembered the soap
‡ Better, anyway, than going out there with them and saying in a loud, carrying voice: Will you be (*&^%$£”!!!! getting on with it then, please, any time soon? When vets and do-gooders and so on are leaning on you about having your male dogs fixed^ they just keep going on about sex, and miss out entirely telling you that your entire/intact/balled dogs’ peeing habits will drive you mental. I’m pretty sure I remember telling you (smugly) that the hellhounds will pee on command. It took me a while to work out that what they were doing was marking on command. Oh, she wants a tag here? How very odd. Well, whatever the Hellgoddess wants. And they obliging lift a leg. And then return to their own imperatives.
^ No. There are many good reasons to have your dog neutered, but the life my hellhounds lead, it’s not necessary, and I’m a strong believer in ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’.
‡‡ They don’t actually go bambambambam anyway. It’s more of a thumpetythumpetythumpetythumpety.
‡‡‡ I can, in fact, imagine throwing a laptop that had annoyed me one time too many into a washing machine just before I turned it (the washing machine) on, but you would think that memory would flood back on contact. If there were contact. Which in this case there was not. Nor am I missing any laptops at present (I think).
§ Creations always rebel against their creators.^ Look at children. Fortunately the magic hamsters are on our side.
^ In all the modern feminist+ what-happened-after stories, I haven’t seen a good one for Pygmalion and Galatea.
+ Just so we’re clear about this, men are feminists too: Sondheim’s INTO THE WOODS, for example.
§§ Clinging like mad to the railing. The cottage stairs, which are not delightful even at midday and with both your eyes open at the same time, become vortices of eleven-dimensional horror after midnight.
§§§ My very first electric typewriter is in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City as an example of the admirable union of beauty and function in 20th century design. It may be pretty to look at but I burned the beggar out in about four months.
¤ Okay, maybe I made that last one up. Unless it’s one of those battery operated ones with flashing lights to annoy people at Christmas. In which case I’m sure there’s an alarm clock involved.
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Well I hope after all your pain and suffering the House Alarm Man had the decency to be ON TIME.
Neutered dogs still pee on stuff. And neutered dogs till try to mount bitches in/out of season. But if I did have male dogs they would be neutered… ;) Main reason why I prefer the females…..
****** I’m about two-thirds better. I think. It kind of varies.
I hope you get the remaining third returned to you in working order. Soon!
****** They don’t actually go bambambambam anyway. It’s more of a thumpetythumpetythumpetythumpety.
When my washing machine goes bambambambam it’s my heart that goes thumpetythumpetythumpetythumpety at the sound of impending doom. I can’t cope without a washing machine, so please don’t make me – I regularly get scares when it starts whining, but so far (this version’s about 7 months old) it’s just accumulated beastie bristles which I clear out with great relief.
Chocolate for you and extra nice polishing and fabric softener for your machine ;)
********§ Creations always rebel against their creators.^ Look at children.*******
Aaaargh! My sweet infant has turned into a terrible teething toddler overnight! He’s either whiny and clingy (leading to klutz moments) or (loudly) asserting his newfound independence (not to say stubbornness, which I realize he comes by honestly)
“Teach me to do housework.”
You know better. What were you thinking of? And you still 1/3 off well! No more housekeeping for a week. At least. And early to bed. Does Peter know how late you’ve been posting? We think not.
I am in complete sympathy about the horrors of waking up and being coherent for 8 in the morning. My sister has a technique for being out of the house within fifteen minutes of having got up (admittedly the rest of the time, when not in this manic phase, she just doesn’t wake up at all AND she always sleeps a minimum of eight hours a night) but I need an hour and a half to wake up to coherent. I have been known to be able to translate within 45 minutes, but never to responds socially or pleasantly to any comment addressed to me. Even when I get up later than 8 in the morning.
I’m on your side. I can function if I have to BUT DON’T EXPECT ME TO BE NICE ABOUT IT. :)
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“I can function if I have to BUT DON’T EXPECT ME TO BE NICE ABOUT IT. :)”
I never would. Nor can I. Monosyllabic, yes. Grumpy and uncommunicative, absolutely. Nice – I think not. Makes it hard when you’re a houseguest. Snarling at your hosts is just not socially acceptable for some reason.
Hosts who expect you to be sensible before your third cup of tea/coffee are NOT VERY HOSTY HOSTS.
So are you all alarmed now, at least? ‘Cause geeze.
You know, this is the sort of thing that always happens whenever we switch back to morning shifts. Have to be in bed by ten? Chaos breaks loose! (Not the dog, unfortunately. Well, not here. I’m not sure how he’s behaving over *there*.)
Yes. Your body says, WHAAAAAAT?
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***§ Creations always rebel against their creators.^ Look at children. ***
I am, and they do. [glares in general direction of demi-hellgoddesses]
Nearly 16 and nearly 20 (next week, both of them, augh!), and Elder Daughter was born arguing. Seriously. As far as we can tell, she turned turtle between my last appointment with the OBGYN and the day I went into labor, and hello, emergency C-section. You know that Monty Python routine, “I’m here for an argument”? That’s my eldest.
Fortunately, she’s a good kid, or young woman, these days, when she isn’t arguing.
Insanity is hereditary, you get it from your children. Or hellhounds, or cats, or horses…
LOL! But all the best people/critters are insane! :)
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Oh, I HATE it when washing machines go bambambambambam! It scares me to death every time, and I’m usually fairly afraid to go and fix it. I’m always teetering on the edge of hysteria until it stops spinning. *shudder*
Well, as a number of people have pointed out (and I KNOW this but who wants to ruin a good story?) it’s probably just the load was unbalanced. But it’s still a scary kind of noise. Especially in the middle of the NIGHT.
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Oh, I know WHY it goes bambambambambam! but I still really hate it and can only imagine with horror what would happen if it went off in the middle of the night.
Yep. THAT was the point of the story. :) That, and to make people laugh. . . .
Patently you need one of those eco-friendly, minimal-water-washers. I got one this spring and it just goes swish, swish, whirrrrrrrr. And then your clothes are so dry you can fling them on the line for an hour, and you’re done. It’s enough to make me like laundry.
I knew the cream and cheese wouldn’t work in the potato-egg thing. I forgot about the potatoes tho. I wasn’t thinking of the tomato/potato connection.
Speaking of cooking, has anyone directed you to the http://www.101cookbooks.com blog yet? It’s vegetarian/vegan friendly so lots of neat recipes sans dairy or with all-natural alternatives like fruit purees. And it’s not heavy 70′s style vegetarianism. (Flee the nut-loaf!) Give it a look when you’re feeling a bit better and feel like cooking (you know maybe 4/5 better or 9/10.)
Oh, lovely! Thank you! (And there’s still no reason NOT to post lovely recipes OTHER people can use.) You know there ARE nice nut loaves out there . . . :)
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When vets and do-gooders and so on are leaning on you about having your male dogs fixed^ they just keep going on about sex, and miss out entirely telling you that your entire/intact/balled dogs’ peeing habits will drive you mental.
Neutered male dogs somehow don’t really seem to notice. Our pup was neutered at about 7 weeks by the rescue organization. He is now 3, and he still has to pee on everything. And he has a passionate affair with his summer dog bed. If we take it away for any reason (laundry), he tries to console himself with his winter bed instead.
Bed at 1:30 ???? !!!!!! Congratulations! And you got right to sleep, interesting.
I can claim a similar accomplishment. I did not stay up all night to finish Chalice. When it got really, really late (for me) I said to myself, “I’ll enjoy this experience of my first read more if I am completely awake for the rest of the book.” And I turned out the light. And in the morning I finished it in glorious sunshine, which also seemed somehow fitting for a story about being attuned to the land.
“Only one hour in the normal day is more pleasurable than the hour spent in bed with a book before going to sleep and that is the hour spent in bed with a book after being called in the morning” Rose Macaulay (as quoted in a Mary Azarain wood block print)
I have begun Chalice again and am taking it very slowly in a more noticing sort of way. Oh jeeze, I hear mice squeaking again. I hate this time of year when they move indoors! And my cats just ignore it, even if said mice are snacking on the cat food! I’d much rather hear a thumping washing machine!
Here’s hoping washer, hellhounds, and fishbones all behaved themselves.
But but but … going to bed at 1:30 am and getting up at 5:30 am is NORMAL school/work day scheduling for me …
Good for you. I need six hours or I’m lunchmeat. Which is the one GOOD thing menopause has done for me: it used to be EIGHT hours.
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Wha’? Huh? Whafahunh?
Hmm. That’s not what I would have said. (Of course, what I would have said isn’t really suitable for a Family Audience…) :)
When vets and do-gooders and so on are leaning on you about having your male dogs fixed^ they just keep going on about sex, and miss out entirely telling you that your entire/intact/balled dogs’ peeing habits will drive you mental.
When you’ve got boy cats, the vets won’t shut up warning you about marking behavior. They figure that while you might put up with the shredded furniture and dead mice on the pillow, no owner in their right mind wants an unaltered male cat, as everything in their house will reek of pee for the next 15-20 years… At least the dogs do their marking outside–or so I’ve always assumed, anyway. :)
(Of course, what I would have said isn’t really suitable for a Family Audience…) :)
********* Neither was what *I* said. But this is a FAMILY blog. :)
The only entire male cats I’ve known HAVE marked indoors, and no, I’m not having any. But my hellhounds are perfectly ‘clean’ indoors . . . they’re just a little *obsessive* outdoors.
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When my washer does that, it’s because the load isn’t balanced, and the washer is banging against the wall. Usually, I’m washing something large like a queen size sheet that’s ended up in a lump on one side of the washer.
I hope the alarm man showed up and showed up on time. And took care of whatever he was needed for. I sympathize on the waking up way too early. I finish classes for the week on Wednesday with my workshop, which is an evening class, so Thursday is my day to sleep as late as I want to. I woke up to annoying noise and tried to turn off my alarm clock. It wouldn’t turn off. I, being half asleep, tried again. Turned out the alarm clock wasn’t the problem. All the while, the noise in continuing. I finally figure out that it’s my phone. (Here I should note that my phone and my alarm clock sound nothing alike.) In attempting to answer it, I knock half my pillows off the bed and end up following them before I manage to get the phone to my ear. Early mornings are not my thing, particularly not on Thursdays.
Are the hellhounds good about unfamiliar people?
I hope that wasn’t the offer of your dream job on the phone. . . . :)
Hellhounds adore EVERYONE. The world is their friend. The problem is that the world sometimes finds them a trifle OVERWHELMING.
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****Last night was the first time it woke me up an hour later going bambambambambambambam. I still don’t know what was doing it****
I would guess you had an out-of-balance load, and fossicking (!) around looking for possible hard objects amongst the clothes redistributed the weight and fixed the problem. Sometimes the machine takes a walk when the load is out of balance. So ANNOYING.
****I did not want an alarm clock but they bundle alarm clocks with everything these days.****
Too true. My weather station thing also has an alarm clock, which I have no idea how to operate; there are, effectively, NO instructions–I guess they think the interface is sufficiently intuitive (NOT), so when it starts working after I have, say, adjusted the time for summer or winter, I have to just start fiddling with likely controls and hope I can get it turned off.
****There are many good reasons to have your dog neutered, but the life my hellhounds lead, it’s not necessary****
It’s not necessary, especially if your boys aren’t macho maniacs, but you do want to watch out for prostate infections with intact dogs–those things can blow up in a hurry, as I know to my cost.
****In all the modern feminist+ what-happened-after stories, I haven’t seen a good one for Pygmalion and Galatea****
And it’s such a set-up–you could write this using ALL the cliches. :)
If there’s nothing obviously Bambam in the load, the Bambam was probably caused by something like a knotted sheet or towel. It happened for me a lot until I learned not to wash half-a-load of large pieces. Since I got rather bored with having a washing machine dancing breakdance all over the floor, I don’t do that anymore.
“They don’t actually go bambambambam anyway. It’s more of a thumpetythumpetythumpetythumpety.”
Perhaps the noise depends on what species of night-time being is hammering on the inside of the drum, trying to get out of the machine. If it’s the goblin that creates dog-hair fluff bunnies, then it’s fairly quiet. The one you heard that night may be the ghoul that feeds on dead laptops… Mwahahaha. :)
LOL! Have you ever thought of a sideline in writing horror fiction?
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“Have you ever thought of a sideline in writing horror fiction?”
Ye gods, no! I’d be far too scared of what might come clawing a path into the light of day from my subconscious… :)
Commiserations on the washing machine – mine has just had to be replaced and I didn’t realise how much I used mine until one day… skreiiiitch bangbangbang skeritch shriek bangbangbang THUD… it stopped working. (I will admit that I continued using it once the bearing started to go and it was really really on its last legs, but right up until the shrieking started I thought it would still go).
And I hope the alarm man did turn up.
My female dog (Min Pin named Penny) takes FOREVER to decide where to pee. I live in an Apartment building with a lot of dgos, all who pee in the little back garden/yard area (the grass is lovely).
Penny has to pick the perfect spot to let the other dogs know she was there. It doens’t matter if she hasn’t peed in HOURS. It has to be just right, and she has to make sure that she has a little left over to pee in a couple of places before going back in. ARGH!!
****** My female dog (Min Pin named Penny)
Min Pins are gorgeous – they don’t know they’re miniature, and all the ones I’ve met have been giants in disguise :)
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Washing machines usually go bambambambam when you have a top loader and the load is out of balance– when the spin cycle kicks in, the unbalanced load makes the whole thing wobble!. Since you went in looking for bones and other detritus, you probably also managed to re-arrange the contents, which probably re-distributed the load, and so, no more noise. ;)
I’m not sure I was totally with it when I posted this, I meant to add…
I read through Chalice in one glorious sitting, and I love it. I found it interesting that it was back to the third person perspective.. I was going to see if I could find a way to ask you this question before, but I was wondering if, after writing Sunshine and Dragonhaven, you found you preferred the looser first-person narrative… (I say looser because, as you’re writing in first person, your prose was a lot more lax– more room for rambling and woolgathering in the middle of your sentences– does anyone think in well-formed sentences anyway?!).
I’m pregnant right now, and I look forward to reading Chalice to my kid when they get older! I won’t be able to read Sunshine to them; I’ll expect them to read it when they’re old enough, of course, but there are some things you just don’t read aloud to your kids. :-P Dragonhaven is just hard to read out loud.. I tried, but it’s rambling nature makes it difficult (for a non-pro like me, anyway) to articulate sensibly.
Anyway, Congratulations on birthing a beautiful book!!
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Hope the thumping noises from the washing machine are just a temporary aberation rather than the forerunner of disaster.
And I finished Chalice this morning (nearly made myself late for work in the process…) and I have to say thank you! It’s fantastic, and I loved it. :-) But the poor bees….
Thank you!
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***^ No. There are many good reasons to have your dog neutered, but the life my hellhounds lead, it’s not necessary, and I’m a strong believer in ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’.
Exactly! Or well – not exactly, since Sassi is a cat, but still…Not many admirers find their way to the sixth floor…(Sassi is named after the female half of a pair of starcrossed lovers, Sassi-Punnu, so most Pakistanis when they hear what her name is immediately ask, archly: “Well, where is her Punnu then?” and the previous is what I answer; other famous couples – who end up dead, of course – are Laila-Majnu, Shirin-Farhaad, Heer-Ranjha and Sohni-Mahiwaal. There was a couple who survived – to get married, I mean, they’re obviously not alive still! – and typically neither I nor my husband can remember who they were… oh, well.)
Washing-machines are weird things. In a Garfield episode there was an alien inside eating all of Jon’s clothes… I don’t wash my thin veils(?) in them any more – I remember one that came out looking more like a net than anything else, not broken, but so many threads had been pulled taught, all over it; I have absolutely no idea what it caught on. I am terribly stubborn so I have ironed it – mostly – back into shape…)
***Wha’? Huh? Whafahunh?
Funnily that sounds a lot like the Swedish “Va’ fan”, which is the equivalent of “what the h–l”, but means “What the d-v-l”. (“Fan” being a nickname for the devil, otherwise djävul, and “va’” being short for “vad”=”what”.)
***I did not want an alarm clock but they bundle alarm clocks with everything these days. You want a radio? Here, have an alarm clock. Computer? Alarm clock. Toaster? Alarm clock. New pair of shoes? Alarm clock.¤
This really made me laugh! Ever considered stand-up?
LOL! Thank you! Giving speeches is bad enough–I don’t want to do live comedy too!!
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“Containing a few of the magic voles that assist the magic hamsters in running the universe. The voles take over the little stuff that isn’t worth the hamsters’ time.”
— LOL! Although I have a friend who insisted that her car was run by a set of squirrels, one for each wheel.
Your washing machine story reminded me of our Bucharest washing machine. We always joked that it was possessed. I’m not sure why, but every time we used it, it decided to jump out away from the wall and end up halfway across the kitchen (a few times I wondered if it would manage to unplug itself). I still don’t understand.
And chipmunks. Don’t forget chipmunks! :)
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Okay, seriously. Just reading your asides in list order (as opposed to chronological, or whatever you call it) is seriously amusing and somewhat disturbing…