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January 28, 1999
a year ago

Of Stuff and Bath Bombs

Packed day at work, nearly entirely packed with meetings and stuff. Also found out one of the guys that was thinking about Boulder decided to stay here instead. Has a job and everything. Drat.

We had to leave early as we had two people coming to the house for various assessments. One was a real estate lady that came in to see the house and assess its market value as John and I decided, mostly, to just sell it and get it over with and not worry about it in the long run. One less thing to be concerned with and if we do sell it for a good price we might be able to get what we call our Ramen House in Boulder. It's a house at the top end of our price range, where we'd probably have to eat ramen regularly in order to afford it, back to my school days when I ate lots of fifteen cent ramen packages to afford doing part time school and part time work.

Anyway, the Ramen House is utterly gorgeous in its own right. If we do get it I could see us naming it The Ramen House, just for fun and having the darned name stick.

So the lady wandered about happily. The guy that met us was from one of the two moving companies that we were to talk with, and he went through the house detailing pretty much everything we have, how much of it there is, and how much of it we're going to move and what of it they couldn't move for us and why. So it was a very thorough sort of thing. Going from room to room and detailing all our Stuff and what of it we really, truly, didn't want to damage and what of it could just be tossed into a van and moved. It included estimates of the cost for the cars, the ten thousand things by volume, and all kinds of stuff.

There's a lot of stuff.

We have a good ton of stuff, nearly. Not including the cars. But including everything in the garage and the two refrigerators and stuff. There's a lot of stuff just tucked away here and there and everywhere, so it was a little work getting to it all and showing it all to him. Throughout the tour he was telling us the things that he couldn't move. Anything liquid and open and likely to make a mess. Anything corrosive, anything explosive and anything that was alive and that we really wanted to make the trip alive. I realized that nearly all my plants are from cuttings from other people's plants.

All but one. The one is a leafy plant. Anyone that's ever seen The Professional will recognize it in a heartbeat. It's the plant the two of them drag all over the city. It's very hearty, it's the one that I use to gauge when all the other plants need water. I really do need to dust the leaves again, sometime, though.

Anyway. They were both done sometime before 5, and John ran off to find injectors for the Stoat, so I was home, alone, with about five pounds of citric acid, nearly that much bicarbonate of soda, half that of corn starch and four bottles of pretty nice essential oil mixes. I added a bit of water, some food coloring, the shells of plastic eggs, a drying rack from the food dryer, a piece of parchment, and some plastic and paper utensils and soon had a counter full of stuff. Stuff that when applied or used properly eventually turned out little bath bombs about the size of the round half of a plastic Easter egg.

I made 'em in three colors, green for the jasmine scented ones, red for the rose scented ones and then yellow for the stuff that had the blend to beat anxiety and stress. It took a while to get the mixture to pack properly and to get the hang of doing what I was doing, and to get the things to actually come out of the egg shell. Whack, whack, whack. So nice half-egg sized critters got laid out, carefully, on the parchment and the whole rack got stuck into the closet with the water heater and the furnace to stay warm and dry out a bit.

By which time my hands were tired from packing the things together and John had come home and started making a meatball and spaghetti dinner that was very good indeed. The bits of material that were left over from the bathbomb making fizzed very promisingly when I dumped them into the sink. So I'll get to see tomorrow how well they actually do in a bath or if I have to adjust things a bit.

I smelled of roses and jasmine, cedar and woods from the anti-stress stuff. It was very nice. And realizing that nearly all my bubble baths were either going to get dumped or have to travel with us, I decided on a bubble bath. A nice bath later and I'm sleeping happily.

One thing I discovered as I was playing with the Pokemon Pikachu is that I can accumulate well more than a thousand watts, it'll keep track of them. Another is that, after a certain point, it does more things, including, this evening, playing at a computer, and typing whenever I shook the toy. It also now plays the grand piano fairly regularly. Kinda fun having it grow in the ways it does things. One really funny thing, though, is that it's showing up in classrooms more often, and occasionally, it falls asleep. During one of the meetings today, I showed Bob the sleeping Pikachu and he nearly fell out of his seat laughing.

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