Tag: humor

There Are no Witnesses in the Dark

In the early predawn mornings when it’s still very dark, no one is awake to see what goes on during my walks with the two terrorists, aka Orso and Charlie.   Only the deer and raccoons are around to witness their antics.  I’m talking about them jerking me around, getting the leashes tangled up and charging at the nocturnal animals keeping my chiropractor in business.

It’s bad enough going on a walk in the dark and twisting an ankle stepping off the road into the ditch, which I have done on more than one occasion, causing me to wonder if I’m going to be able to walk home when I’m a mile away from the house.  No one else is around to see my gracelessness or help me if I get hurt.  It’s just the dogs and me.  I’ve even fallen over a giant boulder in the middle of the road.  I’m that graceful.  At least in the dark no one else is there to laugh at me.

Not today though.  After I got home from work this evening, I took the dogs on their afternoon walk which is when everyone is coming home from work.  The walk down to the dam was uneventful, a very pleasant stroll for the three of us.  The dogs were behaving themselves and enjoyed the romp at the dam.  On the return trip home we ran into a friend and his two dogs, which I used as a training session for Orso, working on his sudden aggression lunging at other dogs.  So far so good, Charlie was a champ and behaved perfectly and after a rough start Orso got into the moment and behaved very calmly walking back and forth in front of my friend and his dogs.  We almost looked like a Cesar Milan episode.

After the successful walk-by the dogs and I continued on our way home.  We had just rounded the second curve in the road when Charlie circled around behind me to pee on a bush causing me to try and whip the leash over my head and twist my arm around when Orso stepped back toward me.  I tripped over Orso and fell hard twisting my ankle and knee.  Right there in broad daylight for everyone to see.  As I sat there in the road feeling foolish, Orso came over to check on me and let me know he loves me even though I am the most graceless woman in the world.

There’s something to be said for walking in the dark.

It’s a Jungle Out There

Our predawn walk today was almost like a trip to the zoo.  Lions and tigers and bears oh my.  Well not quite lions and tigers and bears, but plenty of other wild animals crossed our path this morning.  I almost felt like Marlin Perkins. 

No sooner than we started off up the hill from the house did we run across a small herd of deer mingling in the neighbor’s yard.  Orso lunged forward with an extremely loud woof, startling the deer causing them to bolt and run up over the hill beyond us.  After I put my shoulder back in the socket we resumed our walk.  I had my fingers crossed inside my mittens that we were now going to be animal free.  Not so.  You would think that I would be used to being wrong all the time.

As we topped the hill and started down there was a very large opossum sauntering across the road without a care in the world.  Stupid opossum.  Both dogs charged down the hill toward the opossum with a five foot one and a half inch boat anchor in tow, me.  It took about fifteen steps before I could regain control and halt the charge, because now the opossum has seen the charging dogs and decided to play possum and faint.  Really stupid animal.  Just what I need, an unconscious wild animal, two dogs ready to eat the unconscious wild animal and with my luck the wild animal would wake up and decide to fight back.  With much tugging and pulling and a few choice words spoken softly so as not to rouse the sleeping opossum and the neighbors, I finally pulled them past the critter and moved on. 

We ran across no more animals on the way to the dam so I was becoming hopeful we would not see anything else.  Well almost right this time, but not quite.  At the dam, to the left of us was the lake and to the right is a park area complete with a shelter house, picnic table and grill.  Below the dam is a nice greenway that we take the dogs to and let them run and work off pent up energy.  Well this morning at the base of one of the two large Sycamore trees was a large raccoon hugging the base of the tree frozen and making no movement just watching us very alertly.  Luckily for me the wind was blowing across us from the left to the right, masking the raccoon’s scent.  The dogs had no idea that fifteen feet from us this raccoon was waiting and watching, ready to scurry up the tree if the need should arise.  As we walked past, I turned back and saw the raccoon walk across the road to the lake and disappear in the dark. 

Maybe I need to make a standing appointment with my chiropractor.

Our Sunday Hunt

While Saturday was cold and raw, Sunday was just brutal.  The high temperature for the day was at 4:30 in the morning when I took the dogs outside after they ate.  It went downhill from there.  By the time we got out of the car to start the morning hunt, the temperature had dropped to about twenty degrees with twenty-five mile an hour winds out of the northwest.  I seriously doubted our sanity.  I had on a turtleneck, button up shirt, insulated vest and an insulated field coat on top and pants and insulated over-pants on the bottom.  I also was wearing silk glove liners and insulated shooting gloves.  It wasn’t enough.  That wind just cut right through me.

Shaking my head at our insanity, I grabbed my camera and headed out with Mitch and the dogs.  Trying to catch a scent of any birds in this wind was going to be sheer luck on the dogs’ part.  AJ flushed the first bird which Mitch shot and AJ retrieved it with Orso in hot pursuit.  Maybe there would be birds in spite of the bitter conditions. 

As we rounded an out cropping of trees that opened up to a small field of knee high prairie grass.  I walked on the outer rim while Mitch walked along the tree line.  As I got to the middle of the field I noticed that all of the dogs were with me (sans gun) and Mitch was nowhere to be seen.  I thought to myself, what was the number one rule of hunting?  Stay with the dogs.  I hoped that the dogs wouldn’t find any birds, because I sure wasn’t going to kill a bird with my mind.  I kept calling the dogs back to me hoping to stall and Mitch would miraculously show up just as the dogs flushed some birds.  But no such luck.  Charlie flushed one into the tree line at the edge of the field and I found myself running to where the quail flew despite the fact that I only carried a camera.  Old habits.  Mitch finally showed up just as AJ flushed a small covey of about five quail.  Mitch shot two into the trees when a third one flew out over my head and as Mitch swung around for the shot I quickly dropped to the ground to avoid either being shot or slapped in the head with the gun barrel.  He got the bird, by the way.

So far the day was shaping up to be a very fruitful harvest.  The only drawback was the bitter cold.  I headed down into the draw to try to escape the wind, but by then my hands were too cold.  They hurt so bad even with the gloves on I was afraid that I could cause some permanent damage so I told Mitch that I was going to head back to the car and warm up.  Walking back to the car I heard a noise behind me so I turned to look back and there was AJ, who lives to hunt, walking along with me.  He had had enough too.

I think that AJ and I are the wiser of the bunch.  But that’s not saying much since we all went out there to begin with.

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.

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…

Orso Being His Usual Uncooperative Self

Orso wants to go out for a walk but not helping get his harness on is more fun.

“See you can do it without me.  I don’t have to stand for this.”

And It Just Doesn’t End

Two coats of gray primer and three coats of red paint just to paint a door and I’m not sure that three coats of paint will be enough to give that finished look.  Seriously?  If I had known that red was such a difficult color to work with, I would have gone with blue or green or anything else, maybe purple.  A simple one day project has taken all week and I’m not sure it’s really done yet.  I’m waiting for the third coat of paint to dry.

After the second coat of paint had dried I peeled off the tape protecting the glass panes and the door knob.  That went badly as well.  I should have used Frog tape, but no I used the regular blue that has worked in the past.  The blue tape hung on to the red paint with great tenacity.  I peeled off huge chunks of red paint on the metal strips between the window panes.  This meant that I had to make another trip to Lowes to buy tiny paint brushes to touch up the flubs.  I have started to doubt my sanity at attempting this project. 

I have only painted one side of the three doors mind you.  I still have the back side of the doors to paint.  Today is Sunday one week ago on last Sunday I started this insanity.  Guess what, vacation is officially over, tomorrow I get to go back to work, who hoo. 

At least Mitch has had a productive project laden vacation.  He gutted the bathroom, ripped out the tile floor, floor below and the subfloor in four days and in the last two he has re-installed the subfloor and floor.  He’s now ready to go buy the backer board for the tile and tile the floor, which he’ll get done this week.  Me, I’ll probably have to apply another coat of paint. 

A wadded up newspaper and a match is looking awfully good right now.