Bacon?

This morning when I came downstairs I could have sworn it smelled like bacon. Funny thing is, I didn't make bacon this morning, last night, or at any other time in this house. Unless Kevin went to the grocery store and cooked and ate a whole pack of bacon this morning before work there has been absolutely no bacon cooked or eaten in this house since we have moved in. But alas, the downstairs smelled like bacon. Not that bacon is a bad smell but I find it a little strange for a scent to be ruminating in the basement when the think producing that scent is nowhere in the house.

The furniture fixer guy also came today. He wiped the smell of bacon right out of the house. The entire house now smells like some sort of high powered epoxy. He did mange to fix the desk that the incompetent movers broke while taking apart in Gainesville. Seriously, had they asked me how to take the bolts off, I gladly would have helped them out. Instead, they just gouged and pulled until the thing was apart seriously damaging the oh so special particle board along the way. Once we get our new entertainment center, the desk will be the last piece of particle board furniture in use in this house. I hate particle board and my hatred causes me to firmly ask the sellers of any furniture we purchase if any part of the wood is particle board. It's just gross. We will save the old end tables though, as they may come in handy in the future. I guess particle board is good if kids are going to destroy the furniture. Although, if I get my way, they are gone too. Anyway, the desk looks great. You can't even tell that just 12 hours ago it had a huge gouge on the side, bent screws, and broken screw holes.

The furniture fixer also fixed our broken couch. (I think the couch is framed with something worse than particle board.) In any case, two of the supports had some how come unnailed and slipped from their position. I actually think this was Dr. HokieKev and I's fault as I noticed it WAY before we moved, but we won't tell the moving company that. The guy was able to literally take apart the fabric of the couch, put some screws in to secure the beam, and staple the fabric back into place so you can't even tell it was broken. He seems like a good guy to know. I probably should have asked him to look at my now broken wine rack.

Speaking of wine racks...the second one fell to the ground today. Seriously, something does not want me to have wine paraphernalia in this state. Luckily, I had been too lazy to put glasses in said wine rack so I wasn't welcomed upstairs by shattered pieces of glass everywhere. Also luckily, the fall didn't cause any damage to the rack or the floor.

So that was the day, the night was slightly more eventful. Dr. HokieKev and I had dinner at the President's house tonight. It was cocktail party like- without the cocktails. Instead, we had a "have the caterer make you some flavored lemonade" bar. I think all the colors were made to resemble tropical beverages. Cocktail parties are, however, more fun when they include actual cocktails. We probably won't get much of that around here. Anyway, it was a good time. Dr. HokieKev was shocked when the President's wife said they entertained most every night from now until Christmas. I was quick to remind him that she did not have to clean, cook, cleanup, or even plan the events. They have people for that. If I had people for that, we would entertain every night too. I am not even sure they live in the house the party was at. It is the biggest house on the street and definitely set up for parties including a huge patio and a side cul-de-sac for parking. The President also mentioned that they have a house about 20 minutes away. Maybe they are just a two house family- one for the week, one for the weekend. It just seems weird that a University owned house wasn't physically on campus. Maybe that is just what I am used to. Nonetheless, it was a great house and a great backyard. We left the party with bread from some bakery in town and supposedly homemade raspberry jam. Dr. HokieKev doubts that Mrs. President actually made it. Whatever.

Now we are home, catching up on a million hours of Olympic coverage, still doubting the Chinese gymnasts are actually 16. The house still smells like epoxy- and surprisingly like bread.