dystopia « Robin Writes

My husband has been out the farm for a week now, working his tail off. I arrived last Monday in time for the appliance and tile delivery.

Too much tile. Way too much tile.

See, they were supposed to deliver all this stuff on November 16, then rescheduled to November 30, because they were still waiting on the tile. The problem was that they were waiting on the tile we’d canceled because the guy had written up and charged us for the WRONG tile. We were refunded the wrong stuff and ordered the right stuff within minutes of the first order. Minutes.

Well, anyway, they took back the wrong stuff. Of course, I’m wondering what else got messed up . . .

Oh, yeah. The cabinets. They arrived Tuesday, and I have to say, I was impressed with the delivery—both of them, actually. The first guys were hilarious—coming out from STL, it was probably the first time they’d been out in the boonies. The second guys—and one gal, come to think of it—arrived three hours ahead of schedule.

So here’s what the living room looked like that day:

Tile, appliances, etc. were still in the barn and thank goodness—here’s what the “bedroom” looked like:

Between Monday and Tuesday, I learned how to put down cement board. Gee, that’s fun. The drill took off a strip of skin on my thumb—from using it, not from the bit itself—and I have a couple blisters. Yay.

And then we opened up the cabinets. Took me three trips in the truck to the burn pile. It looks like Mount Cardboard up there. Sadly, no pics!

So the base cabinets got set. Remember now, we ordered this stuff the end of October, so I’d pretty much forgotten all the cool stuff—a bread box, a knife drawer, pull-out spice racks and pan holders, and a mixer shelf that lifts up. And the wine racks, of course.

Then it was time for the wall cabinets. Oops.

Between me and my math skills—okay, not “skills” but whatever—and the new guy who helped me design the kitchen, the wall cabinets were a little, um, off. Just a little. So. We ended up running into town to order two more and to return two. That was fun.

More fun, however, was calling the next day after I realized the fifteen-inch cabinet we had opened to the right, not the left. It really does make a difference if the damn thing is sitting on the floor upside down . . .

I had to head back to STL on Thursday, but our friend Ed came down to help. He arrived just as the counter guy was finishing the template for the granite, and he and my husband installed the microwave and the ovens—and I can’t wait to see them in person!

But here they are; you’re getting to see all that *I* got to see:

They’re cement-boarding and tiling the rest of the weekend, while I, sadly, am stuck at my desk. And decorating for Christmas. And paying bills.

So. Not. Fair.

This is liable to be a hot topic, especially in light of recent media coverage. Many advocate everyday carry, concealed or open depending on your state’s laws, but relatively few people practice this.

Some carry all day long, indoors and out, everywhere they go; some only when they’re traveling in a “bad” area or out in the woods, and some, of course, have weapons available at home for defense.

For myself, I’m do a little of all of these things: in town, I have Bob—that’s his name—next to my bed, unless there’s rioting going on in the area. Hey, I live in the STL metro area, it happens . . . if it’s going on, Bob moves around the house with me, usually sitting on my desk when I’m working in the office. He definitely travels with me to certain areas, but not to the grocery store or on most errands.

Out at the farm, Bob sits on my desk or the kitchen table, or he goes to the barn or garden or out in the woods with me. Not because I’m afraid of people, but we do have a good-sized snake population. If it’s a venomous variety, it dies.

In either location, if someone comes to the door who I’m not expecting, Bob comes along for the ride.

And you might laugh, but I don’t carry loaded. See, my Glock’s safety is in the trigger and I really don’t want to accidentally shoot someone—or myself. But I practice changing out that mag constantly and I’m very, very fast.

I don’t yet believe that we’ve come to the point where carrying a weapon all over town is necessary. Concealed or open. In fact, I’m not real big on open carry—to me, that’s kind of like having a huge, jacked-up truck. We all know what you’re really concealing there, dude.

The odds of being in a situation where you need to have your weapon, out in public, are really quite small, at least for the time being. And if you’re in a situation like that, you might want to think about where you’re traveling and why and even when. Statistically, if you’re walking down a dark alley in the middle of the night, you’re much more likely to be attacked. So, um, don’t do that, ‘kay?

Sure, there are incidents, recently, where a weapon may have come in handy—and I say “may” because this isn’t Hollywood. Not the movies, ‘kay?

You can practice for and mentally prepare for a situation such as San Bernardino, but until something actually happens, it’s very hard to say how you’re going to react. Believe me. Unless you have a military or LEO background, you’re just a person with a weapon that might make you feel safer, but again, the odds of having to use it and being able to do so are pretty small.

Think about it: a guy jumps in front of you, a big, hulking type, and waves a weapon in your face. Are you really going to be able to pull out your own gun and shoot first, or are you going to be hoping that he doesn’t notice you just peed your pants?

Or what if you’re at the movies and someone starts shooting? Duck and cover, right? Would you really have the presence of mind to pull out your gun, look over the back of that seat and fire back? Think of all the noise, all the confusion . . . I’m not saying you couldn’t, but a real situation is much different than daydreaming about the potential scenario.

It takes a lot more than merely being armed to be effective in an active shooter situation.