Category: writing woes

Orso Finally Got It!

We went hunting in Central Nebraska this past weekend.  The original plan was to hunt pheasant but there were no pheasant, so it was decided that we would hunt quail instead.  Pheasant are not an especially hardy bird at the best of circumstances and with the severe drought have not fared well at all.  Now since it was determined that quail was the only option to hunt I decided to forgo carrying a shotgun and carry a camera instead.  I am not fast enough to shoot quail.  On the occasions we have flushed a covey of quail in past hunting trips, I was always startled at the delicate fluttering of birds and as soon as I realized that I could shoot at them, the birds were way out of gun range.  So I figured I would stand a better chance of getting some shots of the dogs and Mitch with my camera than hitting a quail with my gun.

Saturday was cold and cloudy, with temperatures in the forties with a mild breeze, making day seem pretty raw.  The dogs headed out with Charlie ranging a bit too far in front as always.  We have to call him back often otherwise he’ll flush a bird three counties away.  AJ wandered a lot slower and more methodically this year, his age showing.  Orso as usual headed off lumbering along just happy to be out with everybody bumping into the closest body to wherever he ended up in the field.  Charlie was the first to flush a bird and Mitch actually shot it.  I was shocked.  I didn’t really think that any birds would get shot the entire weekend.  Charlie fetched the bird up with Orso sniffing away at this new creature.  He has shown no interest in pheasants at all.  But this new one smelled pretty good to him. 

Orso started off and actually put head down and used his nose to search for a likely scent.  This was a bird he liked and wanted to find.  Who knew?  Orso wandered farther into the field head down, stopped for a brief moment then lunged forward catching a bird in his mouth before it could fly.  He came trotting up to Mitch with the bird in his mouth, its’ little white head poking out to the side.    He did this not once but three times.  Orso had great success at quail hunting.  He only needed us to carry the birds after he caught them.

Maybe there is hope for him yet.

Where Did I Put My Night Vision Goggles?

Oh wait; I don’t have any night vision goggles. I really needed them this morning on our “normal” pre-dawn walk, though. As always, the dogs will walk and sniff sedately for most of the walk, to lull me into a false sense of security that nothing will happen. Surprise! You would think that I would learn by now that something always happens when I am least prepared to deal with an unpleasant surprise, such as being the boat anchor behind three charging dogs.

We were walking on the long dark stretch of road that I refer to as “The Lake Road”. That’s not what the road is actually called, but that’s what I call it. It’s the road that leads to the lake, hence “The Lake Road”. There are no houses on either side of that particular stretch of road, just a ravine on one side and a hill on the other side of the road. Anyway I digress; we were on our way back home when the dogs all converged on one spot for a group sniff. Nothing unusual about that, they do this all the time, we call it huffing. The group sniff lasted for a few seconds when all three lunged at something in the underbrush with Charlie and Orso growling at the unseen threat. I jerked back on the leashes not seeing anything and hoping that whatever was hidden in the dark would stay hidden in the dark.

As soon as my heart returned to normal rhythm I looked back to make sure we were not being followed by whatever it was that they wanted to eat. I picked up the pace just in case. I really was curious as to what made them act that aggressive toward the unseen “whatever” it was.

Now I know what I want for Christmas.

I Am Weak

I succumbed to the media hype touting “Black Friday Deals” even though I swore long ago to not ever participate in the lunacy of the mobs shopping on the morning after Thanksgiving.  Years ago, eight to be exact, our refrigerator went out on Thanksgiving evening loaded to the gills with enough leftovers to feed a small army.  Desperate to not lose the food Mitch jumped in the car and bought many bags of ice to fill the coolers loaded with food that wasn’t thoroughly chilled.

Very early Friday morning we entered the fray in order to find the best price on a refrigerator in stock in one of the many stores that sold appliances.  I could not believe the crush of people pushing and shoving each other just to save a few dollars on some totally useless prize.  There were men and women snatching up their finds bashing into other shoppers thoroughly thoughtless of their actions.  I didn’t hear one “excuse me” the whole day.  But I did hear, “watch it” and “that’s mine” a lot.  At Best Buy, the line to check out and pay snaked from the front of the store up and down aisles to the very back of the store.  I told Mitch there was no amount of money we could save that would cause me to stand in the line to buy the refrigerator.   Needless to say, we went elsewhere in search of a refrigerator.

We found one later at Factory Direct Appliance, and were helped promptly and courteously.  We paid and loaded up the fridge, swearing to each other that we would never venture out on Black Friday ever again.

But this morning I fell for the hype.  I ventured out well after the lunatics had pillaged the stores and had driven home with their plunder.  I had my own treasures to find.  Where did I go for my plunder?  Petco where I bought two bags of dog food and RedX where I bought a case of wine.  Got to stock up on the staples, winter is coming.   I have priorities you know.

I am so weak.

A Man and His Home Improvement Store

What is it about a man and a home improvement store?  I love to shop as much as the next person, especially for shoes, but come on, what is the enticement of plumbing parts?  Shoes and boots have a stylish appeal that expresses your personality that you can show the world whenever you step outdoors.  But hose connectors?  Who’s going to see them?  When guests come over you would show off the tile or pedestal sinks in a newly remodeled bath, but no one would point out the shiny new hoses for the hot and cold water.

But yet Mitch will stand and gaze over the plumbing aisle forever with a look of sheer awe at the variety of shapes and sizes of hoses and connectors.  I even asked if he had measured before we got to Lowes and he said yes he knew exactly what he needed.  After ten minutes of watching him stare transfixed at the huge assortment, I said that I was going to go to the tile section to find something that would work for the gap at the top of the shower to the ceiling.  He said, “Okay,” in a faraway dreamy voice like a drug addict that had just gotten a fix.

On my way to the tile section I found the kitchen countertop that I fell in love with instantly and took pictures of it with my phone so I would remember it later.  I wandered through the tile section and came up with all kinds of solutions to the three inch gap.  The guest bathroom is not only small in area but with a very low ceiling, so with the shower on, there would be condensation and back splashing that would cause the sheetrock to get wet.  With having to remodel the remodel, Mitch is extra cautious about moisture in the bathroom. 

After spending a very productive ten minutes finding our new kitchen countertop (this will be Mitch’s next project, although he doesn’t know it yet) and coming up with a number of solutions for the top of the shower I wandered back to find Mitch still in the plumbing section.  He had one two inch section of hose fitting and a tube of sealer in his hand.  I asked what else he needed and he said no he had everything he needed.  So why was he still standing there?  It has to plumbing crack.  I looked skyward for guidance.

I dragged him away to show him the new countertop I wanted and my ideas for the top of the shower.  We made a decision to use porcelain tile at the top and grabbed a couple of pieces to take home to try out.  He then said he needed to get caulk.  Oh no, not caulk, anything but caulk.  I don’t know how many hundreds of tubes of caulk Mitch has bought over the years, but each time he needs to buy caulk, we go through the same process.  He stares at the variety of brands, types and colors for minutes, and then when he finally makes a decision, he stands there and reads the entire back section of the tube.  Why?  What could he possibly learn that he does not already know about caulk having caulked four bathrooms in the last three years?

God help me if the caulk industry ever does invent a new and improved caulk.

Grace and Brains Too

With my usual grace, I was able to maim myself once again with yet another innocuous object.  In this case the skeleton key on my necklace was the weapon of disfigurement.  Mitch constantly asks how I am able to cut or bruise myself on something that doesn’t pose any threat to the majority of the human race.  I have a gift that’s all.  I don’t a pose a threat to anyone else, just myself. 

My injury occurred at work on Friday, while trying to be ecologically conscientious.  The company I work for recently passed out blue bins to each of us for the express purpose of paper recycling.  We are responsible for filling the bins and then carting the bins downstairs to the warehouse and dump the paper in specially marked boxes.  I normally try to empty my bin when it’s about half full, because when the bin is full of paper, it is very heavy.  Or maybe I’m just a wimp.  But in this case I haven’t had a chance to empty it in about a month so it was pretty full and heavy.

I lugged it all the way to the warehouse and when I hoisted it up to dump the paper into the box, the lip of the bin caught the skeleton key whipping it up and smacking me in the middle of my forehead cutting me.  I almost made a smart ass remark about workman’s comp when I turned around to see the HR manager waiting patiently for me to finish dumping my bin so she could dump hers that she had pushed in on a cart.  Not only am I “graceful” but evidently not very smart either.

The Weremoth

I had no idea that danger was lurking waiting for me this morning as I went through my morning routine.  I took the dogs for their early morning walk, where we dodge deer, raccoons and loose gravel (you have no idea how dangerous the lone piece of gravel is until you step on it in the dark).  Thankfully, the morning walk was without incident, for a change. 

Coming back home, the dogs got their carrots and I jumped into the shower.  After my shower, I started putting on my makeup, totally unaware of the danger just waiting for me.  I pulled out my makeup drawer reached in and grabbed my moisturizer smeared it on my face, and then went after the eye cream when I felt the ever so slight flutter against my hand.  I jerked my hand back just in time to see the rare extremely dangerous weremoth make its escape to the back of the drawer and into the dark recesses of the cabinet.   I just narrowly escaped with my life.  Not sure what a weremoth is, well they are big, huge, black, white or maybe purple, it doesn’t matter.  They strike just when your guard is down and you’re totally relaxed, like putting on your makeup.  I knew without a doubt that it would fly out of the drawer and latch onto my neck and suck out all my blood. 

Having only just started putting on my makeup I had no choice but to finish as quickly as possible keeping one eye on the mirror and what I was doing and one eye on the drawer hoping the weremoth wouldn’t sneak out and stage a blitz attack on me.  Where was Charlie when I needed him?  He always loves to eat moths.

I just hope I remember that it’s in there waiting and lurking for the perfect moment to fly out and kill us all in the middle of the night.  Maybe Mitch will find it first…

Another DIY Project Gone Horribly Wrong

Another stay at home working vacation for us.  This one is to redo a recent remodel, which sucks.  We gutted the second bathroom off the kitchen four years ago.  We removed the old ugly gold enamel cast iron tub and institutional sink and replaced them with a corner shower stall and cute pedestal sink.  It looked great, but the shower started to leak so we have to rip it out and fix the leak.  This has entailed ripping out the shower and the tile floor to see how much of the floor underneath the tile was ruined.  Most of the floor was water soaked so Mitch has had to tear out the floor and a large section of subfloor, leaving a huge hole in the floor looking down into the basement.  What fun redoing a remodel.

While he is immersed in the redo I thought that this would be the perfect time to do some of my pet projects that need to be done and haven’t had the time to accomplish.  One of the projects is a quick and easy one day spiff up.  I wanted to paint the three metal entry doors a new color to brighten up the look of the house.  Simple easy project, pick out a color, buy the paint and paint the door, right?  Leave it to me to turn a simple three step process into a four day ordeal. 

After weeks of looking at paint chips, I finally decided on a red hue.  I bought the paint in a quart size can, playing it safe just in case the color didn’t look as good on as it did on the chip.  Sunday afternoon after I got home from Lowes with paint in hand, I covered the floor with newspapers, for the drips. There are always drips when I paint.  I taped off the door knobs and the little strips between the window panes in the kitchen door.  I will never have windows with the little panes of glass because taping off the little panes was a pain in the neck.  I was finally ready to paint.  I started with the kitchen door and all of its’ little window panes.   I stirred the paint again for good measure and dipped the brush in the can and spread the first coat on.  It was horrible.  The painted surface looked like I had used my hand and was finger painting.  Large streaks of the unpainted door below showed through.  I couldn’t believe it; I had never had that happen before.  I thought maybe because the kitchen door hadn’t been painted before it would look better after it dried and I applied a second coat.

I decided to paint the second door and see how it looked.  The other two doors have had three different colors on them so I was sure that they would look much better.  I was wrong.  Both the second and third doors looked as bad as the first one.  The only thing I could do was to wait for them to dry and hope a second coat would fix everything. 

Monday (day two) morning came and the paint was still tacky.  I couldn’t believe it, this has never happened before.  I grabbed the half full can of paint and headed off to Lowes for some help and guidance.  I explained the problem, what the doors look like and what could I do to fix it.  Those two women couldn’t have been more helpful.  They asked lots of questions and explained that red paint had lots of pigment in it and could account for some of the problem and the brand of paint I had picked out was not very good for coverage.  I wished that had been explained to me the day before when I bought it.  It was decided that I needed to prime the doors with gray primer because gray primer works best with red paint and switch brands to Valspar, which I’ve always had good luck with anyway.  The paint department manager didn’t think I would have to apply paint stripper and start all over.  After much discussion we decided that I could probably get by with just painting the primer over the top of the tacky painted surface.  They refunded the full price of the half used can of paint and of course the only size can in stock was a gallon, my usual luck, but they only charged me the price of a quart.  I went home and went about applying a coat of primer, hoping that this was just a little set back.  No, not my luck.

I applied the gray primer and it looked as bad as or worse than the red paint below.  The brush grabbed the paint and left blobs and smears all over the door.  A wadded up piece of paper and a match in the corner is starting to look really good right now.  And just because I’m a glutton for punishment, I decided to paint one of the other doors to see if it would turn out any better.  It didn’t.  This time I stopped at two.  I’m not a total masochist.  I decided this would be a good time to mow the yard.  That I can do without it turning into a major ordeal. 

Two hours later the paint was dry so I thought why not put another coat of paint on to see if there was any improvement.  What did I have to lose, what’s one more coat for the paint stripper to have to take off if it didn’t work?   Surprise there is a god.  The second coat covered the first very nicely.  It looked like what primer should have looked like.  Maybe there is hope. 

Tuesday (day three) I wake up ready to paint a second coat of primer on the remaining door so I can apply the real color.  Tuesday morning, it’s also only forty five degrees outside, too cold to paint a metal door.  I have to wait for the sun to warm up the metal before I can apply any paint.  Waiting sucks.

Look Ma No Destruction

Sometimes my dogs really surprise me.  This past weekend was a complete blur.  It was nonstop go here, go there and get this done in a two day period.  This meant the dogs had to stay home by themselves and left to their own devices.  This has not translated well for us in the past.  We’ve come home to mass destruction and chaos throughout the house.  It has always amazed me how much mayhem they can wreak in a short period of time, so you can imagine my trepidation at abandoning them for the major part of a two day period.

Saturday morning started off with the first stop of the day going to the grocery store.  We took the dogs and left them barking in the back of the car, which caused the usual head turning and stares of the other patrons.  After the unloading the groceries and putting everything out of harm’s way, the marathon of go here go there began.  First stop was to go watch my granddaughter play soccer.  You can imagine the group chaos with a bunch of three and four year olds running around chasing a ball.  I wish I had brought my camera.  After the “Toddler Pre-Olympic” soccer match, we headed off to Menards in search of a corner shower stall.  The one Mitch replaced four years ago is leaking, so now he has to take that one out and replace it with a new one.  Re-do of a remodel, oh joy. 

We had great success and found what we needed and it was on sale.  Bonus!  We loaded it up and headed home with enough time for me to mow the yard and run the weed eater.  Sunday we spent the whole day helping a friend pack and move all of her belongings to a new home.  It was a rushed move, so a lot of packing was also involved.  By the time we finished up with the chaotic move I still had to buy dog food, because there wasn’t enough for dinner Sunday evening.  I don’t think I would have survived the night without dog food for them. 

Walking in the house with one eye closed in hopes that at least a couple of walls survived the weekend, I was totally amazed to find all three of them patiently waiting at the door for me.  Barking and raising a huge fuss but I would expect nothing less from them.  They had been perfect angels, nothing out of place.  Maybe there is hope.

I Don’t Have Time for This

I should have known something would happen this morning on our walk.  I should have seen the signs. We had a full moon tonight, plus it was an orangish red color.  I think that is what some call Blood on the Moon.  Full moon and weird color must mean something.  Mitch said that he thought it meant a storm was coming.  I now think it meant weirdo coming.

Our predawn walk started off normally, dogs sniffing the air and scanning the dark looking for something to charge after to see if I will be the boat anchor dragging behind them.  I’m always on guard for any possible intruder in the dark just to make sure I don’t become a casualty of the charge.  As we came over the top of the hill a bluish light shining at the top of one the utility poles caught my eye.  There has never been a light there before.  I looked around turning a complete circle looking for the source of the light but saw nothing or no one in the shadows.  The light went out then came back on causing me to look around again looking for the source.  No luck. 

I considered all of the possible solutions to this and came up with three possible answers.  Option A – some creep hiding in the dark trying to scare me.  Option B – an extraterrestrial from some other world making first contact on earth.  Option C – a great big honkin’ lightening bug.  As much as I believe that there is intelligent life out there in the universe, I really don’t think that ET would make first contact with a woman and three dogs in the Midwest.  All I could offer him would be directions to someone who could help him.  And even though I believe that we have worked extra hard at screwing up our planet, I just don’t think that I saw a great big honkin’ lightening bug.  That leaves the only logical explanation for the light.  Some creep hiding in the dark trying to be cute.

If he is trying to scare me, guess what?  It didn’t work.  But I can tell the little creep this; if he does it again and I figure out where he’s hiding, I might just let the dogs off the leash.  I really don’t have time for this in the mornings.

Demons and Dreams

Imagine being sound asleep blissfully dreaming about exotic locales with a handsome dark stranger, when you are rudely awakened to the sounds of a vicious dog fight in your bedroom.  There was growling followed by whimpering, then more growling and snarling followed with more whimpering.  It sounded like one of the dogs had gone off the deep end and was about to rip the head off of the poor victim.  I sat straight up in bed scanning the room ready to leap out of bed to stop the impending melee.

But none of the dogs were awake.  Once again, Orso was sound asleep dreaming of what I’m not sure, but doing battle with himself in his sleep.  He was like an actor in a play, playing two roles, the hero and the villain.  He was lying at the foot of the bed twitching and growling, then jerking his head back and whimpering.  It must have been an epic battle in his dreams.  I watched him for a few minutes fighting with his demon and crying because the demon was hurting him.  It was spooky and comical at the same time.  I stroked his back to calm him and hopefully save him from the demon in his dream. 

Orso finally stopped the fight, I wonder who won.  Now the real battle begins.  Will I be able to get back to sleep before the alarm goes off at 2:30am?