Tag: humor

One Week In

We have been in our new home for one week now. The place is only partially a disaster. The garage is half filled with full boxes and the living room is half filled with empty boxes. So you could say I’m halfway there. We only have window coverings on the master bedroom patio door, the rest of the windows throughout the house are uncovered and bare it all. Needless to say, showering is a bit awkward. But we’re getting there, slowly but surely.

The neighbors that we’ve met are all very nice and friendly, Orso is trying to make friends with Gunner, the black lab across the street. Gunner is a little overwhelmed by this big goofy dog that just wants to be buds, something Orso hasn’t had for a long time. There is a series of trails at the end of the road by or house that is secluded so we can let Orso off leash to run around to his heart’s content.

The neighborhood is quiet and secluded, the road to our home is long and almost half a mile from the main road, plus it is a dead end so there is not much traffic coming or going. All in all a very quiet area, a complete opposite to apartment living. I walk Orso at four in the morning and all I hear is bull frogs in the pond across the road.

One week in and today I didn’t get arrested or shot, but for a minute it was touch and go. I like to consider myself fairly smart and savvy, I watch all the crime drama shows and I’m quite comfortable around guns and shooting. But today I was wearing my dumb hat. I took Orso for a walk this afternoon and as I walking down the road I saw a pickup truck stopped on the side of the road up ahead. He started backing up then stopped and just stayed there idling on the side of the road. It didn’t feel right so I decided to turn down a side road instead of walking past the truck.

About a third of the way down the side road, I heard all of these sirens coming toward me and thought it was a fire truck, but no I turned around and saw a car coming toward me with a light bar on top. The first car was a police car, the second one was a county sheriff’s car and at the end of the road was another sheriff’s car stopped. All had their lights flashing. Another sheriff’s car pulled up and turned into the neighborhood down the road from our neighborhood. I counted five cars, a mix of local police and county sheriff’s deputies and here I am walking a dog on a lonely road with no way to get out of the line of fire. Lucky me.

I walked passed the car that was parked on the side of the road and as soon as I got in front of the police car, the officer inside turned the car sideways to block the road. That made me feel much, better, (not) now we’re in between the two cars that were blocking the intersection and the midway point. Oh goody, now I’m going to get caught in the crossfire, if something happens. As I got closer to the sheriff’s car I got hit with a major hot flash and unzipped my jacket. Even as I was unzipping the zipper I had this inner thought that I was being very stupid, but couldn’t stop myself.

As I got to the intersection and turned the corner to head home, I see two men walking toward me with a dog. So what did I do but something extra special stupid. Right in front of the deputy sheriff I reached into my pocket to pull out a handful of dog treats to keep Orso’s attention on me. I caught myself at the last second and wisely pulled out the bag of kibble so that no one would see any threat and get myself shot.

I’m not sure what they were looking for, but I’m really glad they didn’t find it while I was out there with Orso. I wonder what’s up for my second week.

This is Good-Bye

So long, sayonara, see you later, hasta la vista baby! However you want to say it, it’s good bye apartment. After six long months, we finally found a house. Don’t get me wrong, the apartment is a very nice apartment, clean, large and the apartment management is super, I’m just not cut out for apartment living. I like my aloneness too much.

Soon I won’t have to listen to Big Foot clomping around one floor above me, hammering god knows what, slamming cabinet doors and playing video games with the volume all the way up until the wee hours of the morning. I won’t have neighbors that drag their dried up Christmas tree out and not sweep up the thick blanket of pine needles covering the hallway and stairs leading outside, so that we drag them into our apartment. Most of all I will have a place to walk Orso that is not along a busy street with bicyclists silently whizzing past you from behind startling both of us, causing Orso to bark and lunge at them. No more cars with drivers that don’t know their cars can really go twenty-five miles an hour, they just haven’t tried it.

You can tell when it’s time to go, things happen telling you that you’ve made the right decision. It’s time to move, when two days after you give your intent to vacate, you find a parking violation letter on the windshield of the truck, telling you that you have to move it. Never mind the fact that the truck has been sitting in the same spot for the last six months, but all of a sudden it has to be moved. Then it seems like every little thing is glaring at you, shouting at you, “Get out, run!”

Another clue came when while walking Orso that same day, a woman pulls her car out of the parking lot and stops to tell me that Orso’s urine will burn up the grass. I turned and laughed at her and the absurdity of the statement. I was so tempted to tell her yes I could understand how that could happen since we live in such an “arid” climate. I wanted to say, “Seriously, we are on track to be the wettest winter on record, we are getting rain every day. The damn worms are drowning coming out of the muddy soggy soil and you think my dog’s urine is going to burn up the grass?” Instead I just looked at her, shook my head and walked away.

Then the final hint that it is time to go came sometime late Friday night or early Saturday morning when I saw that someone stole our doormat. Can you believe it, someone came and stole our black astro-turf doormat? It’s not like we are on the main floor where you walk right up to the door and out, there are stairs involved getting to our door. I think what bothers me more is that someone was outside our door while I was asleep.

We got a notice from the complex management notifying us that someone would come in and make a “pre-move out inspection” to see what would is needed to be fixed or repaired before the apartment could be rented to someone else. In order to make a good impression, I have washed walls, vacuumed the carpet almost daily, mopped the floors and cleaned the bathrooms. There has been no damage done to the apartment, we haven’t hung any pictures or painted any walls so we’re good there and the dogs are well behaved and don’t destroy or chew up stuff. I even had the warmer on all day to put out a nice red apple scent throughout. What could go wrong?

The notice said “between 9am to 5pm”, and I waited all day for someone to come by. Dinner time came and no one had come by yet so I figured that everyone was too busy and started dinner. In order to clean out the freezer as much as I can before we move, I thought I would cook a steak for dinner. Well we still don’t have a grill yet, so I turned on the broiler in the oven. The steak was broiling away just fine when all of a sudden the grease caught on fire and smoke started rolling out of the oven and when I pulled the pan out flames shot out and climbed over the oven. I blew the flames out, but there was a lot of smoke, which set off all of the fire alarms in the apartment, I did not realize there were three fire alarms in one two bedroom apartment. Of course the fire alarms are screeching that high pitched screech and as a bonus there was a female voice yelling at us “Fire get out” over and over.

I opened the doors and fanned the smoke alarms until one by one they quit screeching. Just as I was about to sit back down to our salads, there was a knock on the door. Fully expecting the fire department at the door, there was one of our maintenance men there to do the inspection. Great, just as I try to burn down the apartment complex someone shows up to inspect the apartment for damage.

Well there goes our damage deposit.

Worms for Sale

I am learning a whole new lifestyle here. Winters here are not as cold as the in Midwest, wetter though with this past December as one of the wettest on record. January brought more rain, so it’s a fair assumption that the ground here is pretty saturated. This month we’ve had temperatures in the high fifties and even hit sixty a couple of days. For the most part this isn’t so bad, I would rather walk the dogs in the rain than in the bitter freezing cold in the Midwest.

The downside to all of the rain we’ve been having is earthworms are everywhere. They are coming out of the ground because it is so wet and are all over the parking lot of our apartment complex. Maybe it has to do with the landscaping or the black asphalt, I don’t know but it is so gross, walking through the parking lot and dodging hundreds of worms stretched out drowning. The worms range in size from small to night crawler size, so can you imagine what it would feel like stepping on a big squishy slimy night crawler and have your foot slip out from under you. Then you are sitting on the ground getting worm guts on your butt. Even grosser.

In order to solve this dilemma and save the earthworms from either drowning or being squished by cars or feet, I’ve come up with an enterprise that should net me millions or at least ten bucks. I am going to go out and collect all of the water logged worms dry them out and sell them on the internet. I would wrap them up in a cute little box, maybe like the Chinese takeout boxes and ship them all over the world.

This would be a great gift for the fishermen out there, kids that want to start an earthworm farm or even someone that wants to rescue worms and relocate them. Hey, they rescue everything else out there from dogs to elephants, surely someone out there cares about the fate of the lowly earthworm.

Stealth Mode

Definitely not a term that is ever used when describing a Labrador retriever. Friendly, playful, loyal, gun dog, excellent retriever and most popular family dog are all words and terms used to describe the Labrador retriever, see no stealth mode. The breed originated in Newfoundland, originally called the St John’s water dog and was bred to retrieve in the cold waters. Today the Lab is a great family dog, loyal and playful, always in the middle of everything family.

To describe a Lab, you start at the head. His head is large and square or “blocky” with soft eyes that always melt your heart and make you smile. They have amazing hearing with ears that perk up at the slightest sound of the peanut butter jar lid being turned, even if they are on the other side of the house. A Lab has a big deep chest housing a stomach that can and has eaten almost a whole fifty pound bag of dog food in one sitting. Tip, never leave a bag of dog food unsecured.

At the end of the Labrador retriever is the tail. The tail was designed to be wide at the base and strong, to help steer and keep him afloat in the icy waters. The tail also has to be very large and strong, because that is where his heart is. The tail tells you everything you will ever need to know about a Lab. The happier the dog is faster his tail wags. The faster his tail wags, the bigger his smile gets on the front end. As far as happy goes, the Labrador retriever takes top honors.

With our goofy schedule, I work days and Mitch works nights. I get up at four am to start my day while Mitch is still asleep so I try to move around quietly and get dressing without making any noise. Well no matter how quiet I am, it is all canceled out with the banging of tails wagging, thumping against the bathroom door, the wall or the closet doors. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to give them space to wag in silence, they find a hard surface to bang their happy out. Good thing Mitch sleeps like the dead.

Stealth mode, not in this home.

I Still Got It!

You know, that hidden talent. The one thing you excel at, something you do better than anyone else. For me, I have a special talent that I can do better than anyone I know or possibly in the world. Sound a bit arrogant, I don’t mean to, I’m just pretty sure no one else can do this as well as me. I was getting a bit worried that I had lost my special talent, because it has been a long dry spell.

I have walking route I take almost every day with the dogs. It is a mile circuit with a narrow steep trail at one end and a long winding road at the other end. If I choose to take the long winding road first I have to walk up the road which has a 15% grade and three switch backs. By the second switch back I usually regret my decision, even though I know it’s good for me. Then I take the narrow trail down to the slick wooden steps hoping that the dogs don’t pull me off my feet.

If I choose the trail at the beginning, I have to climb the flight of steep wooden steps up the hill. It is steeper than the road but shorter. I always feel like a heart attack is one short breath away. Also good for me to get the workout, but I’m not so fond of the reminder that I need to work out harder. Then when I come to the long winding road which now a downhill 15% grade is easier for me, but I feel like I’m cheating a bit.

Yesterday, I chose to take the trail up and the road down, the dogs were cooperating walking sedately. I marveled at the fact that I didn’t have the usual stabbing pain in my chest as I walked up the path, thinking maybe I’m getting back in shape. We walked across the parking lot of the apartment complex and headed down the road. We had passed the second switch back when my left foot hit a slick spot on the road and I went down hard. My right knee slammed against the pavement, eliciting a few choice words. Both dogs stopped and waited patiently for me to get back up on my feet. They are used to me falling down for no apparent reason. The biggest embarrassment was that a car drove by just as I went down.

I waited until I got back home before looking at my knee, which I’m now sporting a nice bruise and an abrasion that spans across my knee. Yep I still got it. I can fall down better than anyone else I know.

It’s good to know that I excel at one thing.

Taking Stock

Christmas is just two weeks away and this year is so different from previous holidays. This year instead of planning and preparing dinner for one son, his wife and daughters on Christmas Eve and doing it again on Christmas Day for the other son, his wife, daughters and the rest of us. Christmas Eve was usually prime rib and Christmas Day was chicken parmesan with spaghetti and meatballs. Two whole days spent cooking and baking, cleaning and making sure everything was perfect. A bit obsessive, maybe but I love cooking and baking and creating food that people enjoy eating. This year will be a lot different from our past holiday dinners, this year Christmas dinner will be something quick and easy, maybe pizza, maybe leftovers, it will be just the two of us and Mitch will have to leave to go to work.

I have been feeling a bit off, a long way from everything known, routine and comfortable, not that I don’t love where I’m at now and what I’m doing, it’s just a lot different, out of my comfort zone. Since we are still in an apartment, the majority of our belongings are still in storage, most of my cookware, all of my Christmas decorations and cookbooks are not here to put up or use, so I feel like we’re living in an extended stay hotel. Not really home.

Up until now I hadn’t been lonely, even though I work from home and the regular outside contacts I have are my hairdresser I see once a month and our realtor who is patient beyond belief trying to help us find our dream house. Our friends that live here are wonderful, but with our crazy work schedules, social life doesn’t exist, not that we had much of a social life before. So I’m not missing out on that here.

At first I couldn’t put my finger on it, what my problem was, then it dawned on me, I have no problems. I have a husband that loves me, two dogs that make me crazy and would eat anyone that tried to hurt me, (I am the giver of food) and living in a beautiful wonderful place that I get to make new memories. We won’t have the hustle and hectic days of cooking and cleaning, but we will have each other, and that’s what really matters.

Yes, it’s been a very chaotic year with so much upheaval and change, but maybe that’s what you need sometimes, great change. Life, like water that doesn’t move grows stagnant and complacent, forgetting the truly important things in our world. Our family may be thousands of miles away and I won’t be there to cook for them, or watch them open their presents, but I can call and talk to them anytime, not just on Christmas.

The year is coming to an end and the New Year brings promises of hope and change, yes there must always be change, not all changes are good but all changes are not bad either. I embrace the future and all the changes to come.

All I Want for Christmas

I already know what I want for Christmas. Normally I have a gazillion wants on my wish list and as soon as someone asks me I draw a complete blank. Everything is gone and I’m left sitting there with a blank face. But not this year, I know exactly what I want. Now that I’m living in Seattle but work for the same company I have for eleven years that is in Kansas City, I’m doing a fair amount of travel back there to check in, do some training and let everyone know I’m still alive and kicking.

One of my most favorite things to do is to “people watch”. It is so entertaining, sitting in the airport waiting for my flight and watching all of the different people walk and run by. As I was sitting in the airport on my return trip to Seattle I had wait for the plane to arrive that would unload its passengers, load us up then turn around and fly back to Seattle. I got to the airport early and had plenty of time to sit and watch my fellow passengers’ position themselves around gate area looking for the best vantage point.

There was the “super important” business traveler that walked up to the front of the First Class boarding line and looked around for everyone in the gate to acknowledge his presence and awesomeness, then went back to reading his cell phone. Behind him strolled up the woman business traveler who had ignored the sign right in front of her that allowed two carry-on pieces, a personal bag and one other bag. No, she had her purse, tote and rollerboard bag, three bags, no wonder there never is enough room in the overhead bins. Then there was the couple that walked into the gate area, the man carrying a portable oxygen canister and his wife. The man sat down six seats away from me and since there were no more seats around his wife decided it was best to just plop down on the floor in front of the arrival doorway and spread all of their bags around her in a semi-circle. This was going to be entertaining when the arriving passengers tripped over her and her bags.

About thirty minutes before departure the inbound flight rolled up to the jet bridge. It was only a few minutes later that people started coming through the gate from the jetway. The first man off looked like he had rolled out of bed after oversleeping, jumped in the car and flew to Kansas City in his pajamas. Seriously, he had on red plaid pajama bottoms on. The next three people that came walking by had dazed looks like they had just experienced the worst ride ever and were just glad to be alive. Then there she was. All I could think of, was does your mother know how you are dressed? Did you not look in the mirror before walking out the door and going in public? The woman came walking into the gate area wearing the strangest hat I’ve ever seen. The hat was a knitted hat, at least five or six inches tall, round and stiff sitting high on her head, it didn’t droop over like a stocking cap, made of brightly colored yarn and there was a long blond braid of hair sticking out on each side of the hat. And no it wasn’t her hair, her hair was dark brown.

I sat there and worked overtime not to laugh out loud, which would have been rude, but still it was so entertaining. I wish I had a camera with me, but that would have been too obvious and again rude, so the best option brings me to my Christmas wish. I want a GoPro camera.

Wouldn’t that be a hoot? I could strap it on my chest, camouflage it with a scarf or something and just sit and wait. I know, I have way too much time on my hands.

Anniversary

Today is my anniversary. It’s definitely a cause for celebration but at the same time I wish I didn’t have this anniversary to celebrate. Two years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I made the decision to have a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction. I’m still taking a drug to keep any estrogen out of my body, but other than that and my six month checkups I am living my life as I did before cancer.

I want to shout it out loud, “I beat you Cancer! I beat you!” I want to spin around in circles with my arms wide and head tipped back in pure joy. Of course with my grace and balance I would fall down. But that’s not the point.

Today I want to eat cake and drink champagne for breakfast. I want to go shopping for something fun and frivolous. I want to get a manicure, pedicure and a massage. I want to sit on a beach and drink great wine and just watch the tide. Today I want to just have nothing on my schedule but fun.

Okay back to reality, today will be just like all of my other days, go to work, walk the dogs and hug Mitch (my rock). And most of all this is really perfect too, because I’m still here to do these things. I wake up every morning damn glad I’m alive and hope to stay that way for a long time.

Happy Anniversary to me.

OSHA Would be Appalled

My workplace environment is an accident waiting to happen. There are trip hazards, objects blocking all of the exits and concentration distractions. My daily commute is short, I walk from the kitchen in our apartment to my “office”, a desk holding my computer in front of the bay window in the living room. You would think that this would be super safe, no driving in rush hour traffic, no walking on sidewalks or crossing intersections, no climbing flights of stairs to get to your floor, just a very short fifteen foot walk to my desk. Oh, but then you would be very wrong.

First off I am quite capable of self-inflicted injuries all by myself. But now working from home I have more opportunities to do some real damage. Yesterday, I pushed my chair back stood up to turn and walk into the kitchen to refill my coffee cup turned and promptly tripped over Orso who was stretched out sound asleep right behind my chair. Good thing we have carpeting in the living room and my cup was empty. I’m sure somewhere in the OSHA handbook there is a clause about sleeping dogs.

Another hazard that happens here frequently, is the “hot coffee in the lap” danger, just like going through the drive through except I’m not driving.. That happened when Charlie came over and wanted to be petted just as I had lifted my freshly filled coffee cup to take a sip. He whacked my arm with his head to get my attention. He was successful. I guess I need to use my “to go” cup even here.

Working from home reduces the “Cube Farm” distractions, but there are still many other things to distract me. The worst distraction is the “I’m so cute rolling around here on my back, come scratch my belly” distraction. All of a sudden five minutes have gone by and the thing I’ve accomplished is now I have a boatload of dog hair on the carpet that I have to vacuum up. Oh well, stress level has dropped.

I wonder if the insurance company will lower my auto rates since I’m not driving nearly as much. Probably not, since my Alfac claims have gone up.

Apartment Life

There should be a handbook on apartment living handed out to every renter as soon as they are given the keys to the apartment. Because it seems that in this day and age, people need to be told what the proper etiquette is for living in close quarters to other people. They have no concept of what is going on around them that there are other people in very close proximity to them. I have been living in an apartment here for almost a month now coming from living in single family dwellings, (houses) for almost all of my life. I had no one above or below me, no one on either side of me and no one in a building within ten feet of me. Granted I didn’t run around stark naked with the blinds open for the world to see, I had a neighbor that liked to run around outside in the wee hours of the morning naked, watering his plants. I had some sense of privacy, but not here.

I don’t know any of my close apartment neighbors personally, but I know a lot about a few of them. We should feel either very safe or very scared because I think the Abominable Snowman lives above us. I don’t have a clue what he or she looks like but whoever it is they have the heaviest footsteps. I always know what room he is in by the sound of the footsteps. That he hasn’t come through the ceiling is a testament to the construction of the floors. I just hope the snowman likes dogs, as friends, not food.

Then there is the couple in the next building one floor higher that our apartment. They either are hard of hearing or don’t like each other much. On more than one occasion we have had the “pleasure” of listening to their conversations. One night their very animated heated conversation woke me up. Their voices echoed down and in the windows of the bedroom and from the tone I waited for bullets to fly or the sound of plates smashing. I couldn’t tell what they were saying because it was in a different language, which sucks because here I was wide awake in the middle of the night listening in on a huge fight and had no idea what they were saying.

Lastly the woman who lives in the next building on the same floor as us likes to sit out on her patio and have conversations on her cell phone in speaker mode. The two patios are about fifteen feet apart with some bushes to give each some modicum of privacy. I can’t see her, but I know all about her mother and her mother’s relationship with a man. It seems the daughter doesn’t approve.

I just shake my head and wonder what goes through people’s heads at times. Do they not have a clue that they are not alone in the world? Or is it me? Am I the weird one because I am not a long time apartment dweller that these things bother me? Do people get de-sensitized to the close proximity of other people just like everyone seems to be de-sensitized to violence on television? I hope I’m not here long enough to find out.