Junkin’ with a Stroller

This morning on the way to school I saw the coolest wood sorter with six bins sitting near a curb on our street for the trash men. I spent the whole rest of the way to school trying to figure out if I could somehow get it home with just the stroller. It was in such good shape I figured it would be gone by the time I made it back, but it wasn’t! I had the bins sort of in/balanced on the stroller basket and the frame over the stroller handles when the lady who was getting rid of it came out and offered to help me carry it home.

Here it is:


I’m so glad I picked it up. I knew it was nice, but I didn’t realize just how solid and heavy. I still haven’t decided if it will be for toys or the craft room. For now, it’s sitting in the living room and Beckett is busying himself rearranging the bins.

How does that even happen?

I have some crafty stuff I was planning to blog about, but that will have to wait. Today I’m going with the weird.

First, a few days ago, the ignition lock cylinder on my car stopped working. You could put the key in and take it out just fine, it did the dingdingding thing when the key was in, but it would. not. turn. Thankfully it decided to break while the car was at home and not while I was at the grocery store with Beckett and needing to pick up Finn and Chris. A good day’s worth of Chris’s own diy efforts and multiple trips to the parts store by bike and helpful neighbor got my car to be less paperweight-y.

Yesterday we decided to go out for dinner. Chris took care of loading the kids in the car while I locked up the house. When I closed the door, I heard a strange “bang” noise, so I opened the door to see what caused it. Or, more accurately, I tried to open the door. What happened was the door guard lock had swung over and locked us out. If you’re not familiar with that kind of lock, here’s an example http://www.walmart.com/ip/Ultra-29000-Polished-Brass-Door-Guard/19869267. No, I’m not joking.

I called Chris over to see the impossibility and we both tried a couple of times to get the bar to swing back over before deciding to go ahead to eat and deal with it later. I won’t go into all the details of our b.n.e. experience for security reasons, but suffice it to say it was an eventful evening.

I don’t know if someone is trying to tell us something with the lock malfunctions or if I have a house ghost who was trying to reclaim the house. All I know is I am in favor of replacing the door guard lock in favor of a chain. If a chain lock manages to lock me out on it’s own, I will probably move.

Nothing like 911 in the morning…

I heard this weird hissing static-y white noise sound when I got up this morning. I thought maybe it was coming from one of our computer speakers in the front room. Nope. It sounded like it was coming from outside, so I peeked out the window. Nothing. Further investigation required real clothes, so I mentioned it to Chris and went about getting myself and Beckett ready for the day.

At one point, we were all in Finn’s room gently encouraging him to get out of bed. You could hear the noise just as loud in there. Chris decided he had to figure it out NOW since you could hear it from every room of the house, so he went outside to explore. A few minutes later he came in and asked if I knew the number for the gas company. I told him I could find it, and asked if he thought we had a leak. (Read: OMG, DO WE NEED TO GET OUT NOW!) He calmly replied, “No, but it looks like the neighbor’s gas meter was knocked over and is leaking. Do you think I should just call 911 instead?” Um, yeah, I think 911 is good.

Meanwhile, I got the boys ready quickly just in case we needed to evacuate. (We didn’t) After he got off the phone and back from warning the gassy neighbors and telling them what the 911 instructions were, he told me that he had heard a loud noise outside as he was going to bed last night. I was already asleep with Beckett, so I hadn’t really heard the noise or I would have insisted on checking it out then. We think that must have been when whatever happened, happened.

From our front porch I could see that not only was the gas meter completely broken off (I couldn’t even see it anywhere in the yard), but their big, brick mailbox was also broken in half and lying in two pieces, one way up in the yard. There was no sign of whatever vehicle did it. I don’t know how something could have done that kind of damage and been able to drive away. I also don’t understand how they didn’t know the gas was leaking or why they wouldn’t have called about it last night. There’s no way they didn’t hear all of that going on in their front yard.

Anyway, by the time we left for school, the fire department had already stopped the leak and someone from the gas company was there assessing the damage. There’s a backhoe over there now to dig up and repair the line.

I really wish I had taken some pictures. It wouldn’t have been weird if I had thought to grab my camera when the police had the road blocked and the fireman was stopping the leak. Now I would just be the creepy neighbor taking pictures of the crazy happening in their front lawn.