Subject: Ants

I can (and usually will) geek-out about many things and one subject is Mid-Century Modern furniture. (Julie is guilty of this too) I’m not a master but I’m working on it. A few months back I purchased a new Eero Aarnio-style (not an actual Aarnio) Ball Chair with a speaker system. I had trouble getting it into my house and had to take the front door off the hinges to barely squeeze it in.

I’m in the final stages of moving in with Amy around the corner to a new home and after measuring all the doors and doorways it was determined that we WOULD NOT be able to get the chair into the house. Amy measured the front window and found that the chair would fit through it easily. The problem was that our new place is a duplex and we live on the second floor.

I contemplated building scaffolding or hooking up a wench/pulley system but decided instead to just ‘strong-arm’ the thing through the window. I put out the call to friends last Friday to see if anyone could help and got a few volunteers on Sunday. I went to Home Depot to buy rope and one of those big blue tarps with eyelets to run the rope through. The tarp was probably a little too big but it helped cushion the chair a bit more.



I may have been the sweatiest negro in town that day.





We didn’t get photos of the actual hoist cause all hands were busy pulling.











Big thanks to Reggie for being the anchor, Julie, Julie’s brother Glenn, my friend Bart and of course Amy.

I'll likely hire some professionals when it comes time to move it out or actually build a scaffold to make it easier.

Julie has a few more photos.

Jesus, Killoggs, come on! You're so boring lately. I'm counting on you to relieve the doldrums of my domesticity, stuck in the house chained to the baby as I am, but you're letting me down. I crave laugh-out-loud links, mean-spirited political discourse, and of course much more sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Not the kind of rock and roll you have to live in New York City to know about, though.

This morning arond 4am when I was changing a diaper, my son shat in my face. That's what I get for getting too close. I didn't want to turn on the lights and wake up my husband, so I was changing him by the light of the TV, and as I was inspecting his little asshole for klingons, he made a funny squeaking sound, scrunched up his face, and let loose with a projectile shit right into mommy's face. And all I could do was laugh.

I quit my job, my job does not want to quit me, I'm entirely lost, and I am either moving to Milwaukee or Grand Marais or Perth, or I may still be guttng game animals in Mozambique with Arnie. Not sure. If you have a cause for me to pursue I'm potentially there.

Hi, Killoggs. I once more succumb to your intrigue.

Some old dude told me that I am a "very sexy young woman" this morning, after I pointed him to the rosin-core solder section of the store.