Hurricane James

Aunt James whipped into Cornopolis on Friday afternoon. A little chit-chat, and we were off to various crafty-type places to buy the fixings for a good old-fashioned reupholstering. You see, unbeknownst to me, Aunt James wasn't here for just a-visitin'. It was a project she was after.

And a project she got. We roamed the Cornopolis hills and dales looking for proper furnishings and decorative items, as she and Monkey got their noggins together and worked up a proper design aspect for Monkey House Nebraska. Now, we're not talking ropes and tire swings with some plastic jugs to play with and a pail full of dirty water in the corner. Oh, no. We've left decor like that far behind us.

What we did wind up with was some fine thrift store breakfast nook furnishings (c. 1960s), a cool blue chair (it softens the room, I'm told), a reupholstered 1950s-style Montgomery Ward chair, an neat little table and lamp for the sun room, and a mess o' wall hangings (all original Monkey House paraphenalia).

By Sunday, everybody was pretty wiped, but the house looked great. We still need one more chair and some house plants, but the place really looks like a place people live in, rather than a place people are transitioning in (I am so over transitioning--I know, it's not over, yet).

So, a big thank you to Aunt James. She has some skills.

I'll be posting pics right soon.

Independence Day--Cornopolis Style

Our first July 4th here was a low key affair. The morning took us to the end of our block, where we gathered with about fifty or so other neighborhood residents, their children, and their pets for the annual children's parade. The kids and the pets, with selves and wagons and bikes all festooned with red, white, and blue bunting and shiny fringes and other patriotically decorative touches, along with their parents and owners, followed behind a city fire truck, as it rolled slowly around the main boulevard of the neighborhood with lights flashing and sirens blaring.


The parade was followed by general fellowship and the spraying of the fire truck's hose on children and adults, alike (the author excluded, thank you). We met several new neighbors. A fine start to our day was followed by breakfast, which ended in some playfull food arrangements. Yes, we had bacon, blueberries, and raspberries (among other things).



The rest of the day, we did some shopping, said hello to Penny Lou, the neighbors cat who likes to kick it in the soon-to-be-destroyed treehouse, and spent time keeping the dog on an even keel, since he is not fond of loud noises, and everyone in town over the age of two (the author excluded, thank you) being legally required to light firecrackers and bottle rockets and Roman candles (and, according to the paper this morning, some scamps even tried to blow up an outhouse with "artillery shells"--Where in the hell did they get artillery shells, I ask?), there was a constant barrage of loud noises going on.


That was fun enough, of course, but after a tasty meal of salmon and quinoa, we retired to the basement to await the main artillery barrage, as the country club about a block away apparently has their own fireworks display every Independence Day. Monkey and I took turns watching it from the back yard. It was pretty awesome. And loud. But the dog handled himself well--the basement must seem a safe enough refuge for him. He would not go outside at all that night, however, and last night, he was still a bit skittish about it. He was okay during the day.

The big news for today is that we are getting a visitor. Our first long-term (i.e., more than a day) houseguest will be...Aunt James. She said she'd be here this afternoon. Monkeyhouse Nebraska is in full anticipation mode.

Concert Update: Gillian Welch at the Rococo Theatre in Lincoln, August 15! Please call ahead for reservations.

The Results Are In

Thank you to all who voted. An estimated 0.0000000002% of all eligible Internet voters turned out, and, like most good midwestern elections, several of them voted more than once. The tally is as follows: everybody wins!

The suggestions ranged from penises to cornholes, as one would expect here on the internets--nothing but people surfing around looking for pictures of nekked goats. But, as usual, I digress.

I have decided to institute a system of code names, through which you, the reader, can judge my mental state. A sort of "terror alert" for the author's emotional connection to his new home.

When attitudes are generally positive (or, since we don't want to set expectations too high, when they are generally neutral or above), we shall refer to home as "Cornopolis."

When attitudes are less positive, say a medium dull ache just behind the eye, we shall refer to home as "Nader."

When things are just not going well at all, when experiencing nausea and hyperventilating, we shall refer to home as "Insert Incomprehensible Symbol Here" (a revised version of The Town Formerly Known as Lancaster).

When it looks like we won't be able to stand another second in this bastion of Conservativism, where it is now remarkable that less than 40% of the state rates the Chief Nincompoop as "positive," we shall refer to home as "PoP" (which stands for Phallus of the Plains).

To review:

Alert Level / Code Name

Low / Cornopolis

Medium / Nader

Elevated / Insert imcomprehensible symbol here

High / PoP

Of course, I reserve the right to change this whole scheme at any time. Today, by the way, I am feeling kind of Nader.

PS--Anybody looking to make a road trip: Centro-matic plays Nader on August 10. I know they play KC later this month, but, I'm not in KC.

Please, I'm Begging You, Vote

In my last post, a faithful reader criticized my use of the name LincTown to refer to the new city. With that in mind, I have decided to put the AKA of this fine midwest burg to a vote. Please announce your choice (in a semi-non-secret style) in the comments section. The choices are as follows (polls close when I decide to close them):

a) the 402
b) The Town Formerly Known as Lancaster
c) Flatland
d) Purgatorio
e) Cornopolis
f) Other (Please specify: _____________)

Lay it on me people. That means you, too, Boring Election!

Settling In

Well, the trips to Lowe's and Target seem to have slowed down. We have been acknowledging many first lately. Our first home cooked meal in the new house: burgers on the grill, corn, salad. It was very good. So good in fact that our second home-cooked meal, which occurred but three days later (sandwiches do not count), was burgers on teh grill, corn, and salad. We had our first visitors (Monkey's program chair and his wife), we hung our first wall hanging (the tile mirror), we noticed our first chip in the paint (thanks to the furniture deliverers). We met our first male next-door neighbor, back from an archeological dig in Alaska. We read our first home-delivered newspaper in the living room.

I mean to tell you, it has been an exciting time.

The big happening in LincTown this weekend has undoubtedly been the Americruise car show. 10,000 (I think) classic cars at the fairgrounds. Not a few of them cruising the main drags of town. It's pretty neat to see one as you make your way around town. Monkey and I didn't go to the fairgrounds, however. Admission was in the area of $15. That just seems like too much to see a bunch of cars parked on the midway. Even if it is 10,000.

Hey. I identified those three plants that I didn't pull up. Mrs. Program Chair took one look at them and said, "Peony." And so they are. I just won't know what kind until they flower next year.