Well, here we are on day 3 of the blog, and I have not yet been distracted by something shiny and forgotten all about it, never to return. Give me a couple more days.
That said, the backlog of housework since this little endeavour began is suggesting to me that maybe I can't do this EVERY day. But if there's one thing I learned from Judy Blume, it's that you don't have to write in your diary every single day. And also that girls in the early 70's had to wear maxi pads with a pink belt--yikes!!
But anyhow, this post should have a point, and here it is: Rosemary's Baby has taken the broken TV one step closer to TV heaven.
Let's back up a bit to a time when the TV was just a regular old 25-inch outdated monster that picked up 2 stations and sat on one of those basic black plywood TV stands we thought looked classy and modern in 1985.
Sometimes on the weekend, the Captain and I have things we want to get done. I retire down to the basement to engage in one of my many crafty hobbies and he hits the bedroom to pump some iron. We each kind of listen out for kids and dogs, but assume that the other is paying better attention than we are. This is where it began.
Halfway through beading a Christmas ornament one Saturday back in April, I heard an almighty crash coming from the direction of the living room and the Captain pounding out of the bedroom and yelling something I should probably just keep out of my family-friendly ramblings. I rushed up the stairs to find the TV on its face on the floor, the Captain still yelling and Rosemary's Baby looking as pleased as if he'd just won gold at the Olympics. Apparently, in a moment of Bamm-Bamm-like strength, the wicked little street urchin had decided to become part of one of Barney's group hugs and pulled the whole thing to the ground, miraculously not getting even his baby toe trapped underneath.
After returning the TV to its original position on the stand (WHAT?!! More on this in a moment), we turned it on to discover 2 large permanent rainbow blobs, at which point, the Captain crankily proclaimed "Well, we're just going to have to get used to it because we can't afford another one!" And get used to it we did. You'd be amazed at how fast you grow accustomed to random rainbow splotches on your screen while watching reruns of Seinfeld.
To make a long and pointless story short, after this happened a SECOND time, we decided for safety's sake to keep the TV on the floor, and it has become firstly, a depository for Rosemary's Baby's sippy cups, and secondly a source of fun buttons and holes for childhood exploration of all kinds.
Which brings us to last night.
The 2 channels alluded to earlier are really not cutting it for us, so the Captain occasionally acquires stuff we want to watch and puts it on his computer. He then hooks his laptop up to the TV and voila, it's like we have cable--without the cable bill! Last night, it became apparent that this is no longer an option for us. Perhaps Rosemary's Baby stuck a pencil in there (Firstborn did this to a phone jack once and cut telephone service to the entire house for 2 days). We don't really know, but we do know that hooking up the computer is no longer possible, and we're thinking a new TV--one we can attach to the wall nice and high--might be a good thing to buy ourselves for Christmas this year.
For now, I kind of like my Seinfeld in rainbow.