Category: 18

How I Did Not Meet My Judy – Chapter 1

Ah yes… I remember it well…

It was on Mars. I went to Mars to make a Door-Dash delivery. Big mack, Fries and chocolate shake. With extra chocolate. I was happy because it was toward the end of my shift, and it was the closest place to home I had been all day.

I pulled up to what some people would call a house, got out of my vehicle, picked up the bag of delicious, nutritious and practically edible food, and approached the front door, all the while keeping an eye out to make sure that there were no neighborhood dogs about who would try to snag the bag and make off with some stranger’s dinner.

And my tip. (It had already been one of those days – twice occurring previously – and I was, understandably, I think, wary.)

I was within four feet of the doorbell when the door flew open and… there you were… Standing before me with those eyes… and that smile… and a look that said, “It’s about time you showed up! I’m really hungry! And I have lost five pounds since I called in my order!!!”

After a sincere (sort of) apology on my part, I reached out with with my right hand, which was grasping your weight-replacement material, in an effort to assist you in your task of becoming less skinny, when suddenly your dog appeared and…

Within a micro second, your order had been stolen and devoured, leaving you, at least, five pounds lighter. And a lot less friendly than you were when you first opened the door and sneered at me.

I, of course, was quite (and truly) apologetic… Partly because I had failed in my mission to deliver to you your meal(?), but primarily because I was about to forfeit my third tip of the day. (My tri-tip.)

I turned to leave. I got into my vehicle. I started the engine. I put it into “Drive” and was about to take my foot off the break, when, suddenly I heard a knock on the window next to me.

It was you. You were smiling. At me. You were motioning for me to roll down the window. Frankly, I was a bit, and not unpleasantly, surprised at the change in your demeanor, and I, perhaps a bit hesitantly, cautiously even, rolled down my window… I looked into your smiling eyes and said, “Uh…Yes?”

Then the smile left your face and eyes and you replied, “You forgot your bag,” while throwing the scraps of semi-eaten paper onto my chest, from where it slowly made its way down to my lap and onto the floor, all the while leaving a trail of dog saliva, mayonnaise and the occasional chunk of pickle from my left shirt pocket down into my right foot shoe…

At this point, I felt it was safe to leave and return to Earth.

So I did…

Unintentional Birds? Part Two (2)

The Cleaning

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OK. It’s clean(ish) now…

Hello again, Gentle Reader(s?),

At long last, it is time to pick up where we left off last time in our discussion (monologue?) on Bird Fecal Material and how it arrives in and, subsequently,  interacts with our fountain (Bird Toilet).

Today, I will present my version of how to rectify the situation and, therefore, once again, be able to employ our fountain in a manner commensurate with its primary intended use (to look pretty without smelling too badly).

Several items were wielded in the process of accomplishing the desired end, and I would like to list them now (not necessarily in the order of use).

    1. Shop Vac
    2. Gloves – two sets
    3. Roll of Paper Towels
    4. Flat Head Screwdriver
    5. Needle Nosed Pliers
    6. Garden Trowel
    7. Trash Can
    8. Garden Hose
    9. Folding Stool (the kind you sit upon, not what the birds left behind)
    10. Fresh Container of Clorox Wipes
    11. 4-Tine Foraged Garden Cultivator
    12. Available Shower With Lot’s of Soap, Shampoo and Anti-Viral Type Stuff
    13. Several Hours of Spare Time

Let’s get started, shall we (I)?

Well, on second thought, I’m not going to get too descriptive, here. Let’s just say that the odds are somewhat better than even that I won’t be using my garden trowel to eat out of my shop vac very soon…

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Conversations With Judy – Episode 32: Unintentional Birds?

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on poopose

At our house, on the patio in the front yard, there resides a fountain. We really like our fountain.

And so do birds.

We seem to have a lot of birds where we live. They are all over the place – in the trees. In the air. On the ground.

And in the fountain.

For some reason, known only to the birds, they think our nice fountain is a bird bath. This makes no sense to me because, not far from the fountain, we have supplied an actual bird bath.

The other day, we were out front admiring our fountain when I realized that it seemed a bit on the lethargic side. There was barely a dribble of water exiting the “spout” and dripping over the side of the top bowl into the larger “tub” below, where it recirculates back up to the top in a never ending cycle of – well -circulating water.

This, of course, caused both Judy and I to ponder over why it was so slow and weak. We thought there may be a clog in the pump. This caused Judy to dip her hand into the fountain to see if she could find something that might clog up the works.

She did find something that could clog up the works.

Bird fecal material. Lots of bird fecal material.

As it turns out, the birds also believe our fountain is a giant toilet.

Just prior to discovering that I was not willing to shake her hand, she said, “Ewe ewe ewe ewe…” and started to shake her own hand, not with  her other hand, but to cause the removal of as much of the contaminant from her hand as she could. She then ran into the house and sterilized her hand and entire arm utilizing all sorts of anti-everything soaps, sprays and alcohol. Then she took another shower (her second of the morning). After her shower, she reapplied all of the germ-killing liquids she had previously utilized. then, just to make sure she had gotten everything, she took another shower (her third of the morning).

It was at this point that she started to feel better, less contaminated.

Which brings us to the conversation…

Judy: “We need to clean out the fountain.”

Bill: “And, by ‘we’, I assume that you mean ‘me’.”

Judy: “Yes, actually.”

Bill: “OK, I’ll do that after the rains stop.”

Bill, back in ‘pondering’ mode:  “Why do you think the birds defecate in our fountain?”

Judy: “I don’t think its intentional, it’s just inadvertent. But that doesn’t make it any nicer.”

Bill: “I disagree.”

Judy: “You think they do it on purpose?”

Bill: “No. I think they do it on poopose.”

Ahem…

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**Note: While this is an absolutely true account of absolutely true events, there may possibly be a detail, or two, that may possibly have been ever so mildly enhanced.  – BK

Crowning Achievement

I am going to say something that many people would never, under any circumstances, allow to fall out of their mouths. 

I love my dentist.

Yes, I love my dentist. In fact, I love his whole staff right along with him. 

You would have to make an appointment and go see them to understand, so I won’t try to explain in a few measly chapters why I love them. You’ll just have to accept the fact that I do and we’ll go on from there.

I had occasion to visit my dentist today. I didn’t plan to visit my dentist today, it just sort of became necessary late yesterday afternoon, and they were kind enough to find a way for me to squeeze into their schedule before 8:00 this morning. 

Yes, I said before 8:00 AM this morning. For some of us 8:00 AM is the same as ‘zero dark thirty’, only lighter. And this was BEFORE 8:00 AM. 

I also won’t go into much detail as to why I needed to go see him this morning, suffice to say that I felt the necessity for a root canal coming on. Or, at least, I thought I did. So I called his office to see if he could get me give me a referral to his good friend the endodontist.

Fortunately, he asked me to come in to see him before he would give me the referral. 

As it turned out, I din’t need a root canal because my problem wasn’t with my ‘root’ (nerve), it was that my tooth was broken. Yes, somehow tooth number 14 was busted, and the nerve was exposed. (That really hurts, by the way.)

What a relief! I was so happy to hear that!

“This Tooth Shall Pass”

Conversations With Judy – Episode 21: Good Morning? 3 – Thursday?

Alarm goes off…

Judy turns off the alarm, yawns, turns to me and says: 

Judy: “This week has really dragged on. Is this Thursday or Friday?”

Me: “It’s your Friday.”

J: “Are you sure? Because you don’t often know which day of the week it is.”

M: “Yes, I’m sure. Today is Saturday number five. I know this because I had to get new tires yesterday, and yesterday was Saturday number four. Saturday number four equates to Thursday. It naturally follows that today is Saturday number five for me, which equates to Friday for people like you.”

 

 

Why I Look Different Than I Did A Month Ago

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Hello again, Gentle Reader(s?)! Yes, It’s me, back for another go at writing something.

Today, I would like to fill you in on some recent conversations I have been having with various friends, neighbors, associates, and countrymen (countrypersons?).

It all started when Judy and I were with some friends and someone noticed that my face looks different than usual…

Friend: “what happened to your face?”

Me: “Why? What’s wrong with my face?”

F: “You appear to be growing a beard.”

M: “What are you talking about?”

F: “You have a beard, or, at least, sort of a beard.”

M: “I do?”

F: “yeah! Look at your reflection in the window!”

M: “Holy Spicoli! Oh man!”

Yes, I was quite taken aback by my appearance. But even more so because I hadn’t realized what had happened…

I stood there in silence as I thought back over the past couple of weeks, trying to figure out what happened. Thinking and talking to myself, I went over all of the things and events and non-events that had taken place, meals I had eaten or not eaten, the hot showers that I had not taken because we have been out of hot water for the past three weeks, the cold showers that I HAD taken because we have been out of hot water for the past three weeks, the junk phone calls I have received, the real phone calls I have received – every aspect of my life – searching my memory for anything that might possibly correspond to the date that the unusual (for me, anyway) growth on my face may have begun.

I could think of nothing. At all.

And then…

Judy said something that I couldn’t quite make out and I responded, “Huh?”

And that’s when it hit me!

I made my excuse to our friends…

M: “Well, it’s my hearing aids.”

F: “What’s your hearing aids?”

M: “The reason I have whiskers. It’s because of my hearing aids.”

F: “That’s ridiculous! How could your hearing aids cause you to grow a beard?”

M: “Well, it’s like this… When I’m wearing my hearing aids, I can hear EVERYTHING that’s going on around me or within me. Dog talking to me, flowers in the garden talking to me, ants crawling on the sidewalk, every breath I take, my heartbeat, blood circulating through my veins, me in my “outside” voice, me breathing – everything.”

F: “So?”

M: “I can hear my whiskers growing…

“…For the past couple of weeks, I haven’t been wearing my hearing aids. That being the case, I haven’t heard my whiskers growing. That being the case, I haven’t thought about shaving.

“And THAT being the case, I look like I do now.”

And that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!

Until next time, Gentle Reader(s?)…

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Life Lessons 1… Showers

Our water heater has been on the blink for 6 days. It will either be next Tuesday when it will be replaced, or a week after that.
Lessons learned:
1 – Cold showers don’t last very long.
2 – I don’t have to worry about Judy using up all the cold water.
3 – …

Words

Hello again Gentle Reader(s?),

If you read the title of this post, you may believe that I am going to speak, or write, about words. Or, at least with words. At least.

Well, you may be surprised to discover that you believe, at least, somewhat correctly. 

Yes, I am going to use words in this particular post to describe things called “words”. Words that speak of things. Wordy things. 

Words are the things that make up a spoken language. Spoken Language is something that allows human persons to communicate clearly amongst themselves when utilizing their inherant things called “vocal cords”.

Language and vocal cords, of course, are mutually beneficial concepts which greatly enhance the intended use of each of their intended functions: Making audible sounds and making those sounds intelligible to another human within hearing range.

Think of it this way…

Without  vocal cords, spoken language would not be very useful. At all. And without spoken language, made up of  words, vocal cords wouldn’t have a lot to say. Oh, you might get an occasional “Ugh” or “Mmphf” or “Ahhhhh”, but beyond that they would spend a lot of time wondering why they were there at all. 

Let’s create, using words, an example of that of which, using words, I speak…

Let’s say that my wife, Judy (a name is a word, too), discovers that we are out of toilet paper and she knows that I am about to head out the door to visit the grocery store. In her mind, she knows that she wants to ask me to buy some toilet paper. Her thought is processed and, eventually, gets to her vocal cords.

This is where spoken language enters the picture.

She calls out to me and, using words, says something like, “Oh Bill, my love, please purchase some toilet paper while you are at the store. Not the kind you got last time because I didn’t like that, but the kind I always get when I purchase toilet paper. You know, the extra super hyper soft tripple layered kind with little pillow things woven in. Get that, please.”

Using language, made up of words, she has made her request quite clear and distinct. I would have no problem deciphering her desire for comfortable toilet paper. 

But what if there were no such thing as words? What if spoken language was limited to a few grunts and unintelligible sounds emanating from her nearly useless vocal cords?

Let’s see what would happen…

Let’s say that my wife, Grblmphf (remember, a name is a word, too), discovers that we are out of toilet paper and she knows that I am about to head out the door to visit the grocery store. In her mind, she knows that she wants to ask me to buy some toilet paper. Her thought is processed and, eventually, gets to her vocal cords. But, alas, there is no language for her to speak because there are no words available for utilization in putting her desire into, well, words.

All she can say is, “Ugh mmphf ahh enh.”

I think you can see the dilemma here. I know that she is thinking something. It has to do with me, or she wouldn’t have tried to say something to me. My mind rushes to try to figure out exactly what she is attempting to put accross to me as I walk out the door to head to the grocery store. Hmmm…

She is addressing me. Or maybe the dog. No, it has to be me because the dog is in the back yard urinating on the formerly lush lawn. 

Maybe she is trying to inform me that the dog is urinating on the lawn. No, that can’t be it because she knows that I know that the dog is urinating on the lawn.

Hmmm… I’m on my way to the grocery store, so maybe that’s what she’s trying to get across to me. She wants me to drive carefully! 

No, that can’t be it. She knows that I drive carefully all of the time.

Maybe she wants me to get something at the store. YES!!! That has to be it!

Hmmm… What could she want me to get? What are we out of? What is important enough to make her grunt at me? 

I proceed to the store and take shot in the dark. 

Thirteen hours later, I return from the grocery store, having spent $7,346.72 on one each of everything in the store. 

Except toilet paper. (I actually put some into one of the 17 shopping carts I utilized, but when I went up to pay for everything, my credit card came up 27.00 short, so I had to put the toilet paper back in order to buy everything else.) I figure I am covered…  I am not…

I try to explain myself, “Uhn gmphf ooog mlmp,” but to no avail. She isn’t having a word of it. Mostly because words do not exist. 

Can you see how important words are? Without words, we could have no spoken language. Without spoken language, we would have to rely on the few sounds our, otherwise useless, vocal cords could make. Relying on those sounds, we would have to spend much of our lives trying to read everybody else’s mind. And without the ability to read everybody else’s mind, we would all go broke at the grocery store.  

So, Gentle Reader(s?), be grateful for words. 

Until next time, using words, speak kindly to everybody with whom you come into contact. Use grunts if you have to…

BK

PS – I had Judy read this. When she was done, I asked her what she thought. Her reply?

“I have no words…”

Conversations With Judy: Episode 29: When To NOT Utilize Your Sense Of Humor

Well, hello again Gentle Reader(s?)… It’s time for another foray into the world of “How To Live A Successful Life”.  

In this episode, we (I) will be discussing the proper neglect of the use of a sense of humor. And I will be doing so through the example that I have most recently set for myself…

Permit me to provide a bit of background, here.

Judy and I are in the process of designing (Judy’s part) and building “just one more house – honest. I promise”. 

*Some of you may remember that our house burned down September 16, 2010 and that Judy designed the new one. Well, as it happened, she really loved doing that and she got the bug to do it just once more, hopefully before we die. 

She has been working on it for about three years, drawing, changing, changing, changing, changing, upgrading, changing, changing and changing on, pretty much, a weekly basis over that entire period of time. She has finally got it right. 

Over the past several months, we have submitted the plans to the contractor and the architect to have them drawn up numerous times. And, oddly enough, they have returned to us the finished plans an equal number of times for our inspection. Equally oddly enough, Judy has made a few changes and corrections. The last set of plans required  changes/corrections to about twelve items. the first two items on the list appear here:

bidet-1

**Some of you may remember that I have a way of being joyfully light-hearted in just about any situation (I make stupid, though always hilarious, comments and jokes). This situation presented, to me, anyway, a good opportunity to, once again, employ my never-miss sense of humor, particularly in light of the fact that we had met with both the contractor and architect on many occasions and they have gotten used to me. 

I thought it would be fun to throw in my own two cents on the suggested changes. 

So I did…

bidet-2

Hmmm… There were no “Haha’s” from Judy…

This was unusual.

Moving ahead twelve days…

Phone rings…

Bill: “Hello.”

Judy (in a sweet voice): “Hi, Bill.”

B (somehow recognizing the ‘falseness’ in the sweetness in her voice): “Uh… Hi Judy.”

J (same sweet voice): I just wanted to let you know, ahead of time, that I’m going to strangle you when I get home tonight.”

B: “Gulp…”

J (ssv): “Would you like to know why?”

B: “OK…”

J (in a somewhat changed tone of voice): “Because the plans for the house were sent to me and they are being submitted to the county.”

B: “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

J: “Guess what they include…”

I’m just going to leave it right there and let you use your imagination. 

Suffice to say that the use of humor, no matter how funny, may, in rare cases, be wise to avoid. 

Seriously. 

 

Until next (I hope) ti–

 

Conversations with Judy: Episode 28: A Rose By Any Other Name

Hello, again Gentle Reader(s),

Once, again, it’s time for, yet, another recounting of a conversation with the most amazing female walking the Earth today. Yes, that’s right, my wife, Judy. This particular exchange actually took place several months, maybe even years, but probably months ago…

(Cue the memory sequence music here)

(We join our memory as the music fades, with me exiting the bathroom after a somewhat extended visit and encountering the lovely and, patient, Judy in the – albeit extremely short – bathroom waiting line in the master bedroom…)

Bill: “Oh, hi, my little snooky-wookie-kins! Are you waiting for me?”

Judy: “Why, no, my love, my very own, I am not,” and she goes on, “I am waiting for the bathroom.”

Bill: “Of course, my sweet. It’s all yours.”

Judy enters the bathroom… Judy exits the bathroom… Judy speaks…

J: “How do you do that?”

B “How do I do what?”

J: “The bathroom never smells when you come out. How do you do that?”

B: “Seriously? Really?”

J: “Yeah, really. It never has.”

B: “Well, statistically, there is a very small minority of people, of which I am fortunate to be counted among, who can claim to possess the ‘Mine Doesn’t Stink’ charism.”

J: “Well, as much as I hate to say it, and as ridiculous as it may sound, I have to agree.”

Move ahead about ten days…

Bill exits the bathroom.

Judy enters the bathroom.

Judy exits the bathroom.

J: “I’ve changed my mind.”