A Valentine's Day Shocker

Some of you may know that I am a big fan of the show House. It's not like I yell it from the rooftops or anything, but I may have mentioned it on occasion (true story - my mother went to pick up prescriptions for me the other day from a pharmacy I've been to only twice, and the pharmacist recognized our name and said, "oh, does your daughter have a lot of kids and love House?" I don't even remember talking to him about the show. I may need an intervention.). So, it may come as a surprise that I have an official new favorite show.

I would never have even known about Friday Night Lights on my own, probably. A show about small town high school football? Yeah, not so much my thing. I don't even know why my husband started watching it, but it was excellent from the beginning and has only gotten better. It is amazingly well written, with characters that feel true and deep and a town that really reminds me of my own home town. I just can't say enough about it, really, and finally I must concede that its excellence overcomes its HughLaurielessness. So, welcome to a new era, in which I go on and on and on about Coach Taylor and his wife (neither of whose first names I know, despite my love for them).

Hugh, if you're reading this (and I'm sure you are), don't take it personally. Your place in my heart is unchanged.

My house

My house will be 100 years old in 2012. Here are some of the great and not-so-great things about living here:

THE GOOD:
1) There is a special place in our over-stove cupboard just for Oreos, even though we rarely have Oreos (and when we do, they don't last long).
2) There are two parallel staircases, even though the house isn't that big. It's fun watching new people get confused about where they've landed.
3) The old owner was a carpenter, and did many odd customizations to the house (some less charming than others, as when he drove a nail through a steam pipe and didn't repair it, leading to water damage in that wall).
4) The porch is fantastic and large and airy, and I have dreams of one day using it for socializing instead of just for storing crap.
5) The stairway to the attic is in one of the bedroom closets, making it seem like a secret passageway (and again, surprising newcomers when my mother appears to emerge from the closet).

THE BAD:
1) Water is no friend to this house. When it rains, the basement floods. The roof won't hold patches properly any more. The radiators leak to the ceilings below.
2) Storage - although the house is plenty big enough for our family, it lacks room for our stuff. The closets are so narrow hangers don't fit in them properly. Just my luck, buying a house designed by ascetics.
3) Stairs. We're by no means a family of athletes, but you'd think we'd all be rail thin, since we live in the housing equivalent of a StairMaster, with stairs everywhere you turn. Perhaps the Oreo cupboard mentioned above acts as a counterbalance.
4) Neighbors - the woman behind us is stark raving mad and has, in the past, called the police on us for shoveling snow, blocked her driveway with posts so we can't get into our driveway with trucks, and stood in the road in front of our car to yell at us for putting trash out for the trash collectors. The people across the street have now mercifully been evicted, but for years sold crack at all hours of the day and night and threw an ungodly amount of crap in our yard, including dentures and a shopping cart. The people next door are just odd - they work from home, never leave their house, and once said to my son "we don't like children" (he was not doing anything at the time). The people on the other side just moved in, so they are not yet on my list.
5) The yard. Baltimore is not, last time I checked, in the tropics, but our weeds grow so fast you can almost hear the crackling. Within two weeks of the start of spring, it looks like the castle in Sleeping Beauty, all overgrown and just waiting for a prince with a sword to come hack away the brambles.

On balance, it's been a great house for us (and will have to continue to be, as we can't afford to move). Please note, this post is not about sleep! And, once again, does not have pictures, as the twins always start fussing before I get that far. Better go feed them. And eat some Oreos. I love me some Oreos.