Tuesday, July 17, 2012

I am a creature of grace and elegance

WARNING! This has absolutely nothing to do with history, sewing or anything anyone cares about.

The most remarkable part of this past week was the discovery that my valance box is trying to kill me.

It's never pleasant to find a traitorous murderer in your midst, but I can honestly say that I NEVER suspected the valance box. It's been hanging on the same bloody window right above my computin' area for like, THREE YEARS. During this time, I've treated it like every other surface in the house: auxiliary book, dust and flotsam storage. It's been idling away, content to sit above the window on two shaky screws because, you know, it was just temporary.*

* In my home, "temporary" refers to the state of things that will never actually be changed because I'm too lazy. Example: "Alison said that the dress-form would only be in the living room temporarily, but it was still there when Social Services found her body under a pile of cats and fabric 34 years later."

So on the Fourth of July this year, I made time and got out tools and actually hung the stupid valance box on REAL brackets with screws and anchors and lots of exaggerated grunts because I like to make a big deal of things when I actually do something around the house. Then I covered it with the same stuff that has been on it for ages. And I felt pretty pleased with myself because after three years, I could cross hanging the valance box off the "to do" list.

Cut ahead to the following Monday, which was a week ago. I sat down and turned on my computer that morning, predictably got bored watching the "load" screen, and decided to go get a cup of coffee. I got about 10 feet away from the chair when I heard the crash. Sure enough, the valance box was laying IN MY CHAIR, jagged screws sticking out of the back while the books and assorted flotsam rolled around on the floor and table.

I have no idea how the physics of this works. Nor do I want to think about it. But that was my "warning" apparently. I put the stupid valence box in the floor where I would be safe from getting brained by it and went about my day. Cut ahead to Thursday night, when I did this:

Yes, I have some super janky toes. But we're talking about the trouble-makers in third and fourth place, respectively. 

Since I'm all about tutorials, here's how to make this all by yourself at home:

1. Lay something in the floor that usually doesn't belong there.

2. Tell someone in the home that there is an unexpected object in the floor, and beseech them not to trip over it.

3. Trip over it yourself 20 minutes later.

So now, I'm torn between hanging the valance box back up with railroad spikes or just burning it in the hopes that the fire will purify the evil. Or maybe a nice exorcism?


  1. I feel for you :( Stupid accidents are the story of my life, only sometimes they happen when I'm not awake, like the other day when I woke up standing in the middle of my dark basement with a HUGE bruise on my shin. I guess it's nice to know I'm as clumsy sleepwalking as I am wide awake.

  2. Yikes! I used to sleepwalk on a regular basis, though luckily it seems to have abated. The best (worst) story I have involved a trampoline and my ex... No, nothing fun. He woke up one winter's eve to find an empty bed. He searched for me for more than an hour before he thought to check the perimeter. He found me asleep on the trampoline outside. It was January. Some of my hair was frozen to the trampoline mesh and had to be cut away before I could come back in.

    Maybe I should add that I was *not* dressed for a January night... the neighbors never really were friendly after that.