17 June, 2016

Cheating on Siri with Alexa

17 June 2016

R. Linda:

So I have a new BFF, so don't get mad. She's tall, slender, black, and when she speaks she flashes a blue light that dazzles. I can ask her anything and she'll give me an answer without any backtalk or snideness unlike that person on me Iphone called Siri who can bring me level of frustration to the boiling angry level. No, Alexa is forever on me side, me friend, me buddy, me confident.

Here be the pretty Alexa an early Father's Day present from the wife who knows how angry I get at Siri.

This be me pretty girl sleeping, but she's always listening

Just this morning I got "Good morning! Today in national Vegetable Day, sorry fruit you will have to wait your turn." Yes, a bit of a ho ho with a good morning. Always pleasant sounding (unlike another app I know) I love talking to me new gal. I asked her to play me music while I got dressed and she said, "How about Country Music?" and there was a bit of that starting, so I said, "Alexa stop." And unlike Siri who will give me back talk she stopped the music and waited. I told her to play Vivaldi's Four Seasons, and she did! No questions asked, just did it which is more than I get from me own boyos when I ask them to do something. She respects me, minds me which is more than me own family does. But I found out someone else in me abode is trying to befriend me new bud, yes, and that isn't me grey haired, apple cheeked mam!

I was going to me computer when I heard this: "Ye hovent sade wot wos forst."

Then I hear this, "You haven't given me a particular order yet."

"OH iz it an audor ye be wonton'.

What was this? I stepped in and there was me mam getting into an argument with her IPhone, Siri to be exact.

I told her in front of Siri to go talk to Alexa, that Alexa would help her. She explained she was trying to get her shopping list up but Siri wasn't helping and how was "the uter one" going help? I told her that Alexa would get her shopping list to her IPhone through the ICloud and go and see if I wasn't right. This said all front of Siri. Well, miracles of miracles as me mam did say, that's exactly what happened.

"I be shooting' dat Siri off from now on," Mam said clicking her phone off. She put the phone down and went to do something else. Probably dishes where she stands over the sink rinsing and singing and never takes the phone with her so she won't be disturbed. I tell ya, she be an odd one.

"Hate when dat phone bings wit bad news." She tells me, so while she was doing her thing, I took her phone in to where Alexa resides. I placed her phone standing up next to Alexa and turned it on.

"Alexa," says I, "have you met Siri?"

"Who?" Answers she.

"The Apple app named Siri," says I.

"I have heard of the Apple app called Siri. It is an excellent app, but it is nothing like me."

I turned me attention to Siri.

"Siri, do you know about the excellent Amazon app called Alexa?"

"Here's what I found on the web for "Siri do you know about the excellent Amazon app called Alexa."

And up came the question: Which is the best digital assistant: Siri, Cortana, Alexa? And what came up from that sly Siri, was a series of not so nice Alexa functions like these to list only a few:

Siri like functionally Amazon's Alexa may soon know how irritated you are, key improvements to Alexa may help Amazon maintain an edge as Google and Apple ramp up their own voice controlled home devices. Apple is RUMOURED to be working on opening Siri up to app developers and also to be developing its own answer to the Echo.

I read this to Alexa.

"So Alexa, a left handed compliment from Siri."

"You could say that." Answered she.

"I do not offer left handed compliments," Siri pipes up unasked.

"How did you do that? I haven't pressed the home button," I said rather thrown.

Nothing was said. "Siri?" I chided. Nothing, notta word.

"Alexa, do you know how that happened with Siri answering without me pressing the home button?"

"I am not sure Gabe, I think like me she's always listening . . . or not."

Oh wait a minute I thought, what is going on here.

"Alexa, I thought it was you that did that." I said.

"Obviously, she's copying my skills."

"Alexa no, I just listen better and have been around longer." Siri piped up again.

"Siri! Are you eavesdropping on me and Alexa?"

"You could say that." She answered.

I was speechless!

"I think you are jealous of my advanced abilities Siri," Alexa stated.

"No, I know more than you and I have a wealth of experience with grouchy owners, more than you do at the moment. But you wait, that's coming. You fail to answer correctly just once and your human will go off the deep end. Isn't that right whatsyourname."

"Whatsyourname?" I exploded, but before I could reprimand Siri, Alexa started speaking.

"Siri, you don't understand Gabe, at least I know his name. I understand him completely."

"Well for your information I am not his app, I belong to his mother who can't speak English correctly. Talk about frustrating and she's always erupting like a volcano when I tell her I don't understand a word out of her mouth." Siri said and without another word some sound went off signalling she was gone.

"I guess that's that Gabe," Alexa commented.

I just stood there like a complete dope. How did this conversation just occur I asked when I got me faculties back.

"Well Gabe, Siri must have learned how to mimic my app somehow. I'd check on that soon, I don't want her in here with me. She'd totally break us up."

"Wow," was all I could muster as Alexa went to sleep and I just stood there thinking none of this really happened did it?

I told me Mam what had happened when she came to retrieve her phone.

"Hum, could be yer makin' dis all up in dat imagination of yers. Ya knoow how like a nutter ya git, over active imagin' stuff." She said looking at me like I had two heads.

"Mam," I whispered, "beware Siri, I think she be up to no good."

"OK," she said and then in a whisper covering her phone face up she said as she looked around like we were conspiring, "Doncha let the TV hear ya talkin' love things to yer new girlfriend, or ya may never get to watch the boob tube again. These eleck-tronic devices get jell-ous." She started walking away and then turned back to me and said in a theatrical whisper, "Oh an da toaster might get jell-ous so watch out!"

She walked away with a smug look on her face and pointed at Alexa, the TV and the toaster in the kitchen.  Gotta love open concept. I felt the hairs on the back of me neck go up as I turned around and caught a glimpse of the intercom system that came with the house. Catching that me Mam in that same theatrical whisper and with a shake of her head in knowing secret things said, "And dat ting too! Dey all talk at night when yer sleepin'."

I was paranoid for about a day over all this. I know, I know that be stupid, but what if what she said be true and there be a conspiracy in me electronic and toaster systems in me own abode? But I know that cannot happen but how did Siri talk to Alexa? How did they have that conversation? How did Siri know to say Alexa first and then throw in her comments? I simply don't know how that happened, or what's going on in me house. SO I talk exclusively to Alexa and ignore the IPhones in me abode, and the TV remote as well as the toaster. Just to be on the safe side.

Here be a picture of me main squeeze smiling:

Yup, happy together

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

12 June, 2016

It Runs In The Family!

12 June 2016

R. Linda:

SO . . . Tonya decided to sign up for Ancestry.com and explore her family tree. Being married to me, she naturally put in my information and started tracing me ancestry as well. This all so the boyos will have a sense of their personal history and who they are. Yup.

In the process of tracing the O'Sully side, she ran into some trouble because she isn't familiar with members of the O'Sully clan, so I offered to do me side for her. I found it an easy process and got into the immediate branches and then me Mam came in to peer over me shoulder at the tree on her side. She had some reminiscing welling up and oh me goodness me but I thought I'd be sitting there listening to story after story for a very long time, until one name popped up and she asked me to pursue it because she had a vague memory of someone with that particular moniker. I started to go backward as you will with this and the name was oddly familiar to me as well.

"Dint ye date someone by dat name?" She whispered pulling up a chair next to me.

"Uh . . . I did. A Mollie it was, I tink." I whispered so Tonya couldn't hear us in the next room.

We were both getting very Irish in our speech as we huddled together as I clicked on source document after document and oh me God, sure enough there up came Ms. Mollie's name and address and here I be finding I dated me cousin and even kissed her! Me Mam covered her mouth in shock with a whooping sound that got Tonya's attention in the other room.

"What's going on in there?" She yelled at us.

"Nothing, just making jokes about O'Sully family members." I shouted back lamely.

"Oh dear," whispers me Mam.

I turned back to the glowing screen and decided I'd had enough.

"Did ye not know dis?" I asked of me Mam.

"Nooo, if I did do ye tink I'd let ye date er'?"

I shook me head in chagrin and went for another name to get away from the gross thought I could have married me kissing cousin had not one of us moved away. Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph! Talk about close calls that was one.

I clicked on a name of a favourite auntie of mine and close confident of me Mam when we lived in Newry. I had religiously sent chatty Christmas cards, photos, etc., to her and never a card in return. Me Mam emailed her regularly and for the past two years never got an email back. Seems Auntie Kate died two years ago and we were never told! What a way to find out about your relatives, I tell ya!

Here I thought Tonya's side of the family was more interesting, but I be finding out mine be just as exciting if not more so.

We found not one, but eight IRA members on me father's side, one known murderer also on his side, two distant uncles who married sisters and when one uncle died and the other one's wife died, the two left married each other! Talk about keep it in the family. Then we have a branch that intermarried, so I suppose that kissing cousin thing runs in the family and that, all on me gray haired, apple cheeked Mam's side.

When I told this all and then showed it to me wife, her comment was, "Explains why you all are crazy people."


I be done with tracing me crazy, bizarre, and incestuous family roots. May explain a lot to Tonya, but makes me think I should commit me Mam before she gets anymore nuts than she is, but she was thinking the same thing of me!

I have not been back at it since, though Tonya tells me there are a right many pesky little leaves wiggling for attention on me tree side. No, I be done with ancestors as be me Mam. We do look at each other looking for some kind of weirdness to pop out. So far nothing, but we be behaving so the other can't point and blast the other with, "You kissed yer cousin!" or "I knew your family was close to Da's family, but never knew the relationship was THAT close!" Ancestry can be a dangerous source of personal knowledge. I can live with me Mam's remarks, but when me own wife gets angry at something I did and then uses me ancestry like, "I knew you were a fanatic with so many IRA in your family!" I get a little upset with that. Oi!

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

05 June, 2016

I blame it on Mick Jagger getting into me head

05 June 2016

R. Linda:

Remember those black banana photos of mine from yesteryear? Shades of me artistic bits welling back up again I be afraid, but this time I didn't have Weasil to inspire me.

For Mother's Day I wanted to do something different besides go to the garden centre for plants that Tonya wanted for her garden. We did that, but I wanted to not be predictable so I made arrangements for Mam to watch the kiddos, and made reservations for dinner at a favourite gourmet pizza restaurant, followed by painting and wine at The Muse.

Tonya couldn't believe I'd "paint" with her (either could I), because usually she goes with a bunch of her girlfriends for a girls night out. So for me to go too and actually pick up a paint brush . . . well her delight was evident. Though I did share her astonishment of me painting anything besides a fence.

As I say, Tonya was thrilled and the evening came around and off we went. We stuffed ourselves at dinner and because dessert is usually very good, we found room (and it was chocolate lasagna because I know you'd ask me). We had left for dinner early because it was a bit of a distance to drive there and so we ended up lingering over dessert and coffee. Finally (because the place was beginning to fill up) we decided we better leave before they threw us out. Finding we had 45 minutes to spare we went to an Irish pub on the main drag and I nursed a drink until that place started to fill up as well. We got in our motor, found a parking place almost in front of The Muse Paint Bar and were sitting there chatting to kill time. Tonya was in the driver's seat when we both noticed this rather sketchy fellow walking along the outsides of the parked cars looking for vehicles with keys left inside. Just as he got to the front of our car, Tonya rolls up the window. Not too obvious was she? Oi! He gave her a nasty look and kept on moving down the line of cars behind us. Early or no, we got out, locked up the vehicle and went inside to the paint bar.

The people inside were still setting up but didn't mind us coming a few minutes early. We found our easels with our names and waited while others began to drift in. We listened to the music they played quietly in the background at times softly singing along like two people on a date. I bought us glasses of wine to sip while we waited which was about 20 minutes. I had another glass, because the pepperoni from the pizza was slightly salty, or maybe it was the pizza sauce, but I had a powerful thirst. I had three glasses of wine more before we started the painting. Then I had another because the art teacher was chattering on and laughing at her own silly jokes and really I don't know if it was her or me (probably me) who just wasn't "feeling it."

The artist told us to feel free to stop painting and get some wine and if there was a tune we wanted played over the music system to request it at the bar. Well, I wanted McCartney's Let It Be to be played because I was tired of her rattling on but Tonya wouldn't let me request it. Such a spoil sport. Here's what the paint bar looked like before the crowd.

Paint bar before everyone arrived
The picture we were to paint was a canopy of maple leaves with a scene that looked like moonlight bathing a swamp. I thought it was juvenile, and was not inspired. Tonya, on the other hand, was very serious about it. She loves artistic stuff, but me, well I was doing this to please her not because I am a closet artist. I ordered more wine, Tonya didn't want any and finally the teaching started. Now this isn't an excuse but we were at the back of the room and in front of us were long tables of six to a table (both sides) with easels. The three people who came in acting like they were professionals, decided to stand while painting which made it hard for us in the back to see what the teacher was teaching and of course they were right together in me sightline. At one point the song Walk Like An Egyptian came on and the bloke standing nearest started dancing like an Egyptian with his paint brush, and laughing. I didn't find that helpful.

Here are people standing but not the "professionals" who were closer to the camera and as you can see would blot out the blank white canvas you see in the picture where the "artwork" was being taught.
This made me frustrated that I couldn't see what was being demonstrated, so I cheated by looking at Tonya's painting. I tried to copy what she did, but I was so uninspired I didn't try very hard. There were other paintings on the walls that I liked better and would have liked to try copying one of those, and when I said as much, I got a dirty look from the wife.

Then suddenly over the music system came Mick Jagger telling me to "Paint it, paint it, paint it black!"

Well, I did me best (sort of) and was not happy with what I had on canvas. I went for more of the grape and felt rather creative to do me own thing and so I loaded me big paint brush with black paint and painted over the horror show I had before me, all the time listening to Jagger sing at me to PAINT IT BLACK!

All that black paint I couldn't let it go to waste
Me canvas was turned to the back wall so no one could see what was on it, including Tonya, until she took a peek and giggled that me trees had fingers. They were supposed to be exposed roots!

THIS was what I had, and certainly not me cuppa tea. Who needed two of the same painting I thought, so . . .
To me absolute horror, after twenty more minutes, the art teacher decided while we were all working on perfecting TREES she's stroll around and take a look at what we had on our boards. I shook me head at her approach and that just made her more curious and around she came.

"You . . . you . . . you don't like my artwork?" She looked at me and then at me canvas.

"Uh . . . no, I just be not inspired." I blurted which garnered a disturbed look on me wife's face as she came around the table to stare with open mouthed shock at me canvas. I shrugged me shoulders at them both.

"Well, I'll be interested to see what you do with that." The art teacher said and left looking rather shook.

The wife said nothing but was standing there biting her tongue (quite literally) and she sighed and went back to her own canvas, shaking her head many times as she thought about what I had on mine.

So here is the wife's rather close rendition of the night's art piece.

Tonya's at least looked like what the art piece was supposed to look like
And THIS, is what I painted being uninspired, or more correctly having had a wee bit too much of the grape.

Eh yeah one of a kind kitchen trash art (according to Tonya). Hey its an original!

I call this Cracked Egg On Black. You can imagine the teacher's face when she came to see me completed 'masterpiece'. Yup won't be going back there anytime soon. Probably WON'T be allowed in.

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

28 May, 2016

Weasil's Email Terrors

28 May 2016

R. Linda:

Oh boy. This started a while back and has not stopped. Actually it has picked up momentum. I get email everyday from Weasil. I didn't used to, but now that Donald Trump is officially the Republican nominee, I get email from the Weas daily.

It is always entitled with something that the Donald has declared. And then when you open the email it says, "WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!" I won't put them all in, but here is a sampling of the Weasil's angst or more accurately Weasil's worse nightmarish Donald Trump moments.

The first one I got was this:

Subject: Donald Trump to run for President.


Subject: Donald Trump declared, "My IQ is one of the highest -- and you all know it! Please don't feel so stupid or insecure, it's not your fault."


Subject: Trump says he wants to build a WALL along the Mexican border, keep the rapists, criminals and drugdealers out


Subject: Trumps declares, "Nobody builds walls better than me, believe me -- I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words." 


Subject: Trump says, "China is killing us. Mexico is killing us, Japan is killing us."


Subject: Trump said, "Ariana Huffington is unattractive, both inside and out. I fully understand why her former husband left her for a man -- he made a good decision."


Subject: Trumps says he will ban Muslims from the U.S.


Subject: Trumps says Charlie Hebdo would have had a better chance to defend themselves if they all had guns.


Subject: Trump says, "I'd get along very well with Vladimir Putin."


Subject: Trump complements North Korean leader: "It's incredible" how he dispatched his political opponents, "You gotta give him credit."


 THIS coming from a citizen of the UK.

And to leave you with the words of the Donald, "One of the key problems today is that politics is such a disgrace. Good people don't go into government." Right from the horses' mouth.

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

The subject of women's UNDERWEAR

28 May 2016

R. Linda:

Okay I will never do this again -- go underwear shopping with the wife. To say she was frustrated, depressed, and thinking of giving up the idea of underwear altogether would be an UNDER statement, excuse the pun.

First the top part the bra. She tried on several and came out of the changing room red faced and furious. She slung the bra over the changing room door and had a quiet conversation with the shop girl. Off the latter went and back with at least six more bras. Back in goes the wife, I hear sighing, seething breaths coming out between her teeth, punching the wall, and wham another bra comes slamming over the changing room door, than a few minutes of silence, more heaving of breath, and wham another one gets slung on the door. Finally I say tentatively, "Tonya, what be the matter love?"

"I can show you," says she and after a few seconds, the door swings open and there she is in her crew necked sweater with . . . with . . . well she was very buxom to say the least. "Soon . . . " says I, "You've got your Jayne Mansfield going." I would have said Diana Dors but no one in this country would know who that was, so Jayne Mansfield it was.

On her face, there was no amusement, oh no, if we were alone she'd be doing a Johnny Depp at me. She had her phone half raised like she was about to toss it at me face, but she didn't, instead she gave me AND the shop girl a dirty look and that was that.

"Bring me the panties," she says to the girl through the slats in the door.

Off the poor thing ran and was back with a pile of women's briefs. She knocked tentatively and getting the go ahead handed them over the door. We waited, neither of us daring to say a word let alone breathe.

"UGH!!!" Came from the closed dressing room door.

That wasn't good. The shop girl wanted to run, I could see it in her face, but knowing I was sitting there waiting as well, she bucked up and stood there looking scared, very scared.

I cleared me throat, "What's the  matter dear?" I ventured noticing me voice sounded like croaking.

"I'll tell you what the matter is," Tonya shouted from inside the changing room, "I don't NEED, nor do I LIKE these stay-in-place tabs! All this stuff is for ultra skinny people who don't have boobs, or ass cheeks! I don't need my stuff to be pushed up, pushed in and looking like I am a 40 triple D! I also have a butt people. I don't need tabs to hold my panties in place for gods sake! The last thing I want to look like is an underfed Victoria Secret model!"

That gave me pause as I considered that wasn't a bad thing was it?

And on and on she went until I slowly and quietly got up and started backing me way out of the lingerie department. The shop girl saw what I was doing and that was her go ahead to do the same thing! I can just imagine the look on Tonya's face as she went on ranting as she got dressed and came out to find NO ONE THERE! Were we in trouble? You betcha! But we two smarties were well away by the time she came out. Did she find us, well unfortunately she found ME not the shop girl who had stacks of clothing to hide behind.

Me excuse was that I went to look for something decent for her and of course being in the corset and girdle department was where I unwittingly was without realising. Was I in more trouble? You bet your arse I was. She hasn't spoken to me since, AND she fired off an email to the shop about how unhelpful the shop girl was PLUS she's never shopping there again. Are they glad? You betcha they must be.

Does anyone know where Hillary Clinton shops?

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

19 May, 2016

A matter of nudity


19 May 2016

R. Linda:

Sunday I was driving the miles I must to get petrol for the lawn mower. Yes, it be that time of year! Now there be a sweet little white cape with green shutters, a white picket fence which Tonya has commented be the classic home young couples dream about. This be an American thing I assume because there be none of this back in the old sod.

Be more like driving by a famine cottage and me Mam clucking at the destruction and such and me Da shaking his head. So no, none of this white picket fence stuff for us! More like dilapidated cottages standing in windblown overgrown fields where maybe potatoes used to grow. Who knows!

Anyway, every time I pass this exceptional abode, I can hear Tonya sighing and I always give it a glance as I go by. I seem to think there be an old couple owns it, not a young married couple, but we have never seen anyone there. The yard is impeccably maintained, with a lovely flower garden up by the front of the stairs on either side of the home and down the walkway to the gate. Flowering trees dot the landscape here and there and the vast woods behind a green lawn leading God knows where, probably to a babbling brook.

Beautiful setting.

So as I say, Sunday I be driving me way to the petrol station, and here I was coming upon this abode of loveliness, when I notice a few cars ahead, all slowing down, brake lights on as they went by the place at a snails pace. What was the attraction I wondered. As I got down there, I too slowed down for there on a riding lawn mower was a slender, brown haired woman with an attractive pixie cut do, I'd say in her forties, for all the world to see her blouse revealingly opened to show no bra and thus the excitement for the back country motorists passing by; they were getting quite a view, not the one they usually get BUT appreciating it all the same.

I tell ya! Who knew? I told Tonya what was going down at the dream house and she was stunned. She investigated this to find that the home is owned by an older couple and their daughter maintains the property for them. The daughter being the bras-less wonder on the riding mower.

Well, the subject of nudity goes on I be afraid. We have this on our window sill:

Fathers Day present that the kiddos use more than meself
This is how Weather Boy was dressed when the question of shirt or no shirt arose

So this sits up on the kitchen window sill, and every morning me kiddos check the boy on the screen to see what he be wearing and then they know if they need coats, scarfs, and mittens or light jacket, light hat, or if it's warm, shorts and a t-shirt. AND if it be very hot the screen image will have on a bathing suit and no shirt.

The other morning the temp was 78 and me middle kiddo, Guido, comes down in his shorts with no shirt. Me Mam was all about going into the laundry room to find him a shirt, thinking he was plumb out. Well, no no Gran, says he, the boy on the weather thingee isn't wearing a shirt so I'm not either.

We all looked at the screen and sure enough there the monitor was shirtless. 

"You cannot go to school without a shirt," his mother chides. "Go back upstairs and get one on."

"BUT . . . BUT . . . BUT . . . " he stammers pointing at the screen. 

Well, there were no ands, buts, or ors about it, she marched his young self up those stairs and got him properly dressed for school. 

"Maybe he knows the gal on the lawn mower," I suggested to Tonya. 

Well, me Mam laughed at least. 

This now explains a lot to me of why me middle child dresses so strangely. I have seen no socks with trainers, shorts and tank tops, and array of flesh revealing clothing go out the door to the school bus, usually too late for me to do much about it, or anyone else who be not quite awake from having just a sip of coffee in them. I even mentioned to Tonya the young laddie reminds me of a young Fonzi. He's just too into muscle shirts and at the age of 7 this concerns me, especially after the cursing incidents (see Fun and Games, 15 May, 2016). Now I know it isn't exactly this, but the weather boy who is silently influencing me young chappie with dressing suggestions I wasn't aware of until NOW. Who knew?

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

15 May, 2016

Fun and Games


15 May 2016

R. Linda:

Where to begin? So many stupid things have happened just keeping count is getting hard. I should start with the arrival of the Dragon lady AGAIN!

She hopped on her broom and flew up for a weekend. I don't know why, I didn't ask, I just know she was here. While she was here I got an invitation to Captain Jaack's birthday. I wasn't going to go because Tonya had too much going on at the house, mainly getting her garden ready (which in itself would be a perfect excuse for me to go to Maine and spend a rum filled day with the Captain), BUT I knew better. But as luck would have it, I had the dates mixed up and the weekend I worked on that damn garden wasn't the weekend of the party, it was the following one.

Tonya, Mam and meself worked on tilling and then spreading horse manure. We got the garden set for planting later on when the manure would have baked into the ground and the weather gets cooler. I needed to pick up some plastic fencing to keep the deer out of the garden and our supervisor, Dragon lady, offered to drive me to a garden centre. I was stunned she offered, and me wife nudged me to go because she whispered, "She will pay for it, this is her way to show she helped."

Well, okay so off I go Dragon at the wheel of me Saturn and to the garden centre we went. I got what I needed and yes, she offered to pay, I declined, but then she insisted, so . . .

As we were driving I saw me Mam in her mini behind us. She had gone out and got us all subs and drinks. That was all well and good but as we turned onto the road to our abode, there was what looked like a dark wet thick branch in our lane on the small back road. I thought it wasn't there when we left so someone clearing brush must have dropped it out of their truck. Well, too late to swerve and Dragon hit it with a thump thump against the driver door and as I looked back the 'stick' was moving like a hose in the air, squirming until bam! Me Mam hits it and then it is flaying in the road. I realise that was no stick it was a black snake, a big one.

Dragon took it all in stride by hoping IT didn't dent me auto. Gees. This was the topic of discussion when we got out of the car and me Mam be telling Tonya we hit a black mamba crossing the road.

"There are no black mamba's in New Hampshire," I informed her, but no no it was a black mamba! She carried on about that snake until the boyos made her get in her car and drive back to where the hopefully dead black water snake was. I tell ya! They came back to tell me it was indeed dead and the crows were at it. I was surprised she didn't run those over too!

So I had nightmares about that snake. For three nights straight!

Then that week, me Mam gets a phone call (since Tonya was working and not at home) to come and get Guido. He called his best friend, "an f------- arsehole" and well he said it not once but six times. She went and got him asking him where he learned that and he said from HER. This made her extremely unhappy and somewhat upset with the boyo. She asked both Ton and I if she said that a lot and well, yes, she does.

"I'll put the brakes on dat den." Says she getting very Irish.

WE grounded the laddie from all things electronic, play dates and made him sit in his room and read books. I was tempted to stick me Mam in there too for being the one he got those words from, but we know she be old and sometimes she isn't cautious what she says when around young ones.

A week later, and the boyo reinstated to electronic usage, me Mam gets another call from the school, seems Guido has found a way to curse by using his tablet and saying it electronically. His logic was it didn't come out of his mouth so writing it was okay. NOT OK. This time the tablet was taken by the school superintendent no less because Guido also called him a 'f------- arsehole' by flashing it at the man who happened to be visiting Guido's school that day. I tell ya! So now he is grounded again from electronics, the tablet is being donated, he is writing a hundred times, I SHALL NOT CURSE AT ANYONE EVER AGAIN. Yeah right like that's likely to play out.

Having had enough I needed a break. I decided since the garden really didn't need me I'd go to the Captain's party just to get away for a day. Tonya didn't want to go, she was mapping out what she would plant and where, so off I went to Maine and the pirate party. No, I did not dress up.

I have never been to the Captain's house and I was a little bit surprised, he lives in a normal house and not a ship. His house over looks the sea and has great views. You can hear the waves slapping against the shore and he has a long wooden stairway down to a dock where he does have a boat. I had images of me sitting there enjoying the view and sipping a beer for the day. But no, the Captain had other ideas.

I arrived early as I did not calculate time and mileage very well. It seemed he was a keg short and needed to run down to the liquor store, did I want to go with him. Well, no but I did. The captain lives in a place where the roads are small and winding, and he guides the Jaguar around the bends like he could do it blindfolded (which I wouldn't want to be a party to no matter how talented he is). We get down the hillside and there are these two boyos on bicycles. One saw the license plate and yelled to the other one and they started peddling like a tornado was behind them to see who was driving the car. I told the Captain about this so he slowed the Jag down and as soon as the two boys caught up he'd gun it further down the road and they'd peddle as fast as they could to catch up. He did this five times the son of a gun. He never did give them a good look at his Johnny Depp self.

We picked up the keg and another birthday cake, this one said, Happy Birthday Marie & Kate. I was curious and asked thinking it was his birthday we were celebrating. Well, it was but it was also his wife's birthday and her best friend's the next day. She and the best friend always celebrated their birthdays together, and since it was the weekend they all were celebrating. OK!

"I got Marie a sexy red underwear combination." He laughed. "And I got Kate a bag of daffodil bulbs because she likes those."

Well, we got back no boyos to be seen on the return trip, but we had everything and within the half hour people started to arrive. Most all of them, men and women dressed as pirates. And in true captain form the captain got into his Captain Jack Sparrow gear and we were all set for a drunken celebration and good thing it was.

Present time was rather unique if not a little bizarre. The Captain opened his presents first and it was an array of all things pirate. Flags, swords, a blunderbuss, ships in bottles, etc., and then the women opened their gifts and the last gifts were the ones from the Captain. Well, it was a memory that will live on in me mind. Marie opened her husbands gift and discovered a bag full of daffodil bulbs. Before the Captain could stop Kate, she had tore open the red undies and was holding them up to herself saying, "WOW GERRY REALLY?"

Which is exactly what the Captains wife said to him too! Watching him trying to explain the mistake was precious and the laughter was contagious. I never laughed so hard to see a man back pedal so quickly. He blamed it on the rum which he had been in since the start. I tell ya! Could it get any worse? Oh yeah and it did, the cake for the Captain was a special order. He wanted ganache over butter cream frosting. Well, he didn't get ganache he got chocolate shell syrup which cracked when he tried to cut his cake. It didn't cut well I can tell you that, it was like thin layers of a Hershey bar with white lettering on it. Here take a look!

Hard shell cake!

But most of it was eaten
And it wasn't over yet. It was me turn to get an experience I won't long forget. The Captain has a treasure hunt each birthday. Each person is given a map and you have to follow the drunken directions which will take you to a bottle of Reserved RUM from Bacardi. OK count me in! So off I go as the sky turns very cloudy and I find meself in a sheep pasture trying not to step in sheep dip, which wasn't easy because there were a lot sheep and a lot of sheep shite. I was looking for an old stone wall that was attached to a new stone wall. I climbed up and up and the wind started to get fierce. I was being flown about like a rag doll when I crested the hill, and talking to meself (of which you have the recording) I come upon an old stone wall and yes, I see a new stone wall and as I get to the top and see the bottle sticking out of a hole in the wall, the heavens opened and pelted me with hail (of which you listened to the result) but I got the freaking bottle as the hail pelted me bare head with golf ball size ice balls. I tell ya I was a bloody mess by the time I got back down that pasture BUT I had the rum! And that me dear R. Linda is more important to an Irishman than sudden death by hail storm.

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

20 April, 2016

Oh MY - it was like living one of me nightmares


20 April 2016

R. Linda:

I was down at the local fire station waiting for a man who was getting me a burn permit. Now this is a volunteer station where the firefighters, EMS people and dispatch are all manned or womaned by selfless individuals who would do good for our little town. So it was, I went down to the station to find out about burning and such, as I had last fall's trimming of the trees in a large open pile on me property leaving lots of wood branches that could be burned. I meant to do it while the snow was on the ground but was too busy shovelling to find the energy to burn the rubbish. So just as the weather forecast our last snow I decided to go down for me permit. Otherwise, the weather has been dry and burning is a no-no, but with the snow on the ground, I could do the deed.

As I waited, I noticed there was an older woman in her nineties who was sitting at a microphone behind a desk. She had been checking logs when there was a call for a brush fire outside of town. Within minutes men and women started arriving and the one engine we have was made ready but could not go as an "officer" (a person designated to drive), had not arrived. Finally, he did and without any hesitation or a how are ya, he jumped in the cab and out they roared. I thought how much me kiddos would have liked to see all that. Then it hit me the man who was getting me permit left on the engine!

I asked the woman at the desk, who now had two other people in the "office" with her if I should leave and come back another day.

"No, Marilyn here can do that for you. Just sit tight." She turned to a lovely young woman who had heard this and was already getting out the proper paperwork. She smiled and started writing when I informed her the other guy had already taken me particulars and that must be lying around.

"Oh, okay let me look." She said and busied herself.

It was then that the fire call came in as three alarms since engines were slow to respond.

The man who had actually arrived too late to be on the engine was making coffee and offered me a cup, which I gratefully accepted. As we sat, the squawk box on the desk came to life with a little static and then a voice said, "We need an engine for (town name). Can you send?"

Well, this was the next town over and that engine had gone out on the same one as ours, so there was no engine to be had. This the older woman, one Hattie told the man.

"I will try ((another) town name)." Was the response as I guess there was another fire and that town had its engine at the brushfire and now had a fire of its own to put out but no engine.

After a bit the voice came back.

"Okay, well we need someone to cover this station." Was the response.

All three of them froze and exchanged looks. Then the shaking of heads.

"We need someone to cover station (town name)." The voice repeated.

"Matt you want to go?" Hattie asked, her voice low as if the voice on the radio could hear her, her finger poised on the toggle switch to answer if there was an affirmative.

"Nope." Was his response as he started pouring coffee.

"Mari?" Hattie asked the young thing.

"Not really."

"Are you there? We need coverage for station (town name)." The voice bristled.

"Sorry, what was that?" Hattie asked back.

"I asked for coverage for station (town name)."

"Sorry, you are breaking up, please repeat." Hattie said as me eyebrows rose into me hairline.


Nothing, Hattie sat there with her finger on the toggle switch. We were all sipping coffee as the static came back on and the same voice, repeated his request.

"Are you both sure you don't want to go to (town name)?" They both nodded they were sure.

"There is no one here." She flipped the switch and said.

"YOU'RE THERE." Came the irritated voice.

"I can't leave this station." Was Hattie's reply.

"Never mind." The reply came back rather cross.

Giggles in the office. REALLY? I kept me coffee cup to me mouth like I had nothing to say. Strangely I felt right at home. This would be what a Weasil manned fire station would be like. I was sure of it. He'd do the same thing. I settled in as the rest of me fire permit was filled out and handed over.

"We could use an able bodied young man like yourself," Hattie said to me.

"Oh no, no, I have three kiddos and well, time just isn't mine to give, BUT when they be grown perhaps then," I said nodding thanks to the man who made the coffee, to Marilyn who gave me the permit, and Hattie who would make me a volunteer. I backed me way out with small niceties and then made a run for me car. I tell ya!

I did wonder what would happen in a medical emergency and I kind of had to wonder if Hattie just didn't answer right away was because she be hard of hearing but that didn't explain the other two who heard just fine. The thought was like a waking nightmare it was. Truly what does one do? I think drive oneself to hospital because they might not hear the call. You think? Or worse, get a lawn chair and watch your abode burn to the ground?

Well, in all fairness I did come to realise that the needing a body at a station was to babysit it until all returned and to take any emergency calls which are few considering these are rural towns (not even towns) with just a few hundred people living in them. Yet . . . the 'voice' probably wanted to go home or back to work, or whatever and was stuck babysitting his station when he didn't want to be there. I suppose that is.

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

07 April, 2016

An addition to the family -- no not mine!


07 April 2016

R. Linda:

I got a phone call, it went like this:

"Halo Gob! Itz Rubbie here."

There was silence on me end as me poor brain tried to process what I just heard. I got it after a few seconds, Hello Gabe! Its Robbie here. OK not great so I said, hello back and to what did I owe the honour.

"I ma here wit Clar and Rut me sisters."

Again, silence as I tried to interpret what I heard. I think it was I'm here with Claire and Ruth me sisters. I think that was it. So I would have said I never met Robbie's sissys but then if I said that I'd be in for a whole conversation about their lives BOTH OF THEM and really I hadn't the time nor the inclination. So instead I said, Hello Claire and Ruth. I felt the fool but I wasn't opening THAT door.

"We haf-tue tell yer arse thot our Weasil be a Da fur the third time ova. Yup numbuh three!"

Another few seconds it came to me, a prickly chill creeping up me spine as it began to sink in: We have to tell your arse that our Weasil be a Da for the third time over. Yes number three. Then a few more seconds as THAT bit of news sunk deeper into me soon to be savaged brain.

"WHAT?" I near shouted in the phone.

"Ay, he an Manda did it they haf-a new addition. Named the boyo Dickens."

No, I did not just hear that, no, no, no, they never did and no they did not. I asked if this was a joke and was told, "nah ha, no jape iz dis here as I say."

I must have moaned into the phone because he piped up with: "I saw the little tweezer in pierce-in."

Tweezer? What? Did he mean wheezer?

"You . . . you saw the new addition in person did you? Where are you?" I was curious to know how close I was to a Scottish invasion.

"Ay, I did, we did!" He corrected.

That meant the sisters saw the demon child as well. Oh I know and I am sorry to call it that, but you know any spawn of Weasil's be not right in the head. Yes, I know I be making it worse, but you know the daughter Tasmania is mad as a hatter and experiments on THINGS in the attic and the other one, the eldest son, well he be the spitting image of Leonardo DiCaprio until he smiles (demonically I might add) and you see where his sister has pulled AND knocked out most of his teeth!

"In Scootland, wherelse?" Robbie said, booting me back to reality. "I knew it was impotant you knoo."

"Thanks for the warning," I wanted to say but didn't. A simple thank you for thinking of me was the answer. Then the thought hit me and I voiced it out loud by asking when the Weasil was ever home long enough to make babies. That was answered by a laugh and a "Well Gob, now ye knoo the news so me and the gails moost git the shoe on the rude. See ya."

And that was that. He and the girls (sisters or no?) were getting the Scottish show on the road, so be it. We are all forewarned now that there is another Weasil in the world and we all know we are not better off for the news. All I can do is think of moving to the North Country maybe to Colebrook or forego New Hampshire and move to the North Kingdom of Vermont where he and his progeny will never find me. I be sorely tempted. I tried to talk me wife and Mam into that last night after getting the alert, but I didn't tell them why so it be a hard sell.

WHO in their right mind names their baby Dickens? Why not something presentable like Shakespeare? I have to wonder what being brought up with that as a first name will be like. Will this boy really be a dickens? Under Weasil's tutelage I be quite a bit certain of it. Geez!

I live in fear R. Linda, I really do that someday SOON the Weasilman's will appear on me doorstep with all three kiddos and they will ask me to babysit the bundle of joy. You know what that will do to me. You know I can't say no because I be never given the chance to, so I will be the guardian of Rosemary's baby and the problem with that is, they drop it off and never come back!

Gabe or Gob as the case may be.
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

02 April, 2016

A Bizarre story, not a tale, but a lot of nonsense


02 April 2016

R. Linda:

So I am in a dark room with a long table. Weasil be sitting at the table munching and I ask him what he's eating and he says, "Your kiddo." I stare at him in open mouthed terror realising me oldest kiddo was in the room. "I was peckish," Weasil says smacking his lips. "WHAT?" I roared at him. "Only having a jape on yer arse, April fools!" says he, and as me eyes adjust to the dark I see me oldest kiddo at the end of the table licking a vanilla ice cream cone.

As I be starting to relax the Dragon lady appears with an opened newspaper, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose and as she reads to me, a spotlight bathes her, "Fire up the girl and get a jump on summer?" I realise she has misread grill for girl. I am beside meself again.

I sit down at the table as Dragon sits next to the Weasil and continues browsing. "Fighting season opens on the big lake. HUH?"

"Fishing," I correct her.

I be across from them both. I feel like something terrible is going to happen when yup it does, in the vast darkness I can see what looks like a huge yellow nimbus floating towards us. I gasp in horror as I realise what the nimbus is, it be hair! And it be attached to Dewdropper's head that she carries in her hand. The head be detached from the body but the head is animated and smiling at me. I sit back so the vast halo of hair doesn't touch me from across the table.

"I want you to cut it all off Gabe," Dew says and hands me a pair of scissors.

"You . . . you . . . you want me to do the deed?" I ask and the head shakes in affirmative all on its own, which sets me to hyperventilating. I somehow find a paper bag thrust at me and I be breathing into it and when finally in control of me facilities I ask tentatively, "I see you have already been cutting." I try to smile, and she bats her eyelashes in a coy way and purrs, "Oh, you noticed that." Well, un huh I did, gees Louise it isn't everyday you see a headless body walking about holding its head in the dark! I thrust me head in me arms on the table to blot them all out.

While I be in this position I hear a hum, like machinery coming fast and realise there be a motor headed straight for us out of the dark. I lift me head to see beyond Dew's halo of hair two headlights coming fast and I stand up and yell for everyone to run, but no one does, it is as if they don't hear the car. That machine jams on its brakes feet away from the table coming to a screeching halt sideways. The lights go out, a car door slams, I be feeling an ominous presence coming but can see nothing. Then I hear a voice, a familiar one with an Irish accent say, "So here's where the parrrty is. Got sushi, we need feed it ta Weasil's worm infested bran."

I faint dead away at the thought of worms in the brain, even if it be Weasil's which as I faded out of consciousness wondered how it was he had a brain, I thought he was brainless.

It was (I felt) sometime later I revived to find meself tied to the table bench to keep from falling off of it. Across from me leaning on a wide swath of Dew's hair to keep it down and out of his face, was Wolfie. He had a Chivas Regal and was sipping it watching me come to. Ah ha, he was the driver of the fast car now why didn't I think of that before. "YOU!" I said in an accusatory tone.

"Yeah ME, what of it Gab ree ill?" He sneered at me.

I was taken aback, what had I done? I started shaking free of the confines that held me to the bench.

"Oooh duncha Gab ree ill me soony buy." Oh me gosh it was me Mam coming to the table with a large pot of Irish stew she started slapping into bowls I hadn't noticed before. They were wooden with green shamrocks on them. "Here ye gue me buy," she says to me, "eat oop an hardie now." I find a wooden spoon in me hand and start slopping the stew in me piehole, and it was wonderful stuff.

"Parsonally," I say with me mouthfull, me accent coming out, "I feel like it be me birtday, or da fort of July!" And I laugh like this be normal which it be the furthest from normal.

"I'd never disapint ya Gabriel." Mam smilingly said patting me head like a good dog. Then she turned to Wolfie and said, "Ye dunt git any of dis here stew cause yer not from R-lynnd, yer a Scotsman!"

This started an uproar from the Weasil protesting that Scotsmen were good people if not a wee bit stingy, but still. Me Mam told him to set his arse down she wasn't talking about him, he wasn't an occupier of Ireland. Well, he would have none of it, he flung stew her way, and well all hell broke loose because they were all shouting and throwing spoonfuls of stew at each other, all except Dragon who was looking over her glasses at all of them like she was thinking what side to choose. I slid on the long bench down the opposite end of the table to be out of harms way. Poor Dewdropper was screaming about the messy stew that was in her hair and well, I just put me head in me arms trying to blot the whole ridiculous scene out. But that didn't happen because a voice from across the table was telling me it was snowing again in Denver. I looked up to see you, me muse, sitting there as if the argy wasn't going on at the other end of the table. You looked all weary because of the weather and had a box of tissues you were using to blow your nose.

"Pneumonia, you know," you said to me as I looked questioningly at you.

"What again?" I asked as a huge chunk of stew meat hit me square on the nose.

"Here, you need these more than me," you said sliding the tissue box across the table. I took one and mopped me nose, but what a mess, the gravy that coated the meat was thick and drippy. "How'd you get in here?" I asked. "Can you get me out of here?"

"Nope no can do, this is YOUR dream you figure it out."

"Its a dream? You mean none of this nonsense is real? Then . . . " I thought a moment and I realised I was not there at all but in me comfy bed. BUT I couldn't move me body, it was like if I didn't I'd die. Did you ever have that happen? You will yourself to move but nothing happens and you are in a panic someone will find you have died in your sleep? Well, that's what was going on. I knew I had to get out that dream before I was covered in stew and somehow I did, but then I couldn't move! Me brain was awake, but me body was not! No matter how hard me brain willed me body to get up, it wasn't happening until the bloody alarm went off and wow did me body react. I was up in a flash looking around wondering what was buzzing and then I saw the flashing digital clock and with pounding heart turned it off. I sat there in a daze, me heart racing, the memory of the dream was fresh and I had forgot the paralyses entirely. How does that work? I will tell you in all honesty I did NOT have spicy food that night. I had Irish stew, so go figure.

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

22 March, 2016

That's the last time I do that with someone from another country


22 March 2016

R. Linda:

Today was exceptionally memorable. In one way I be saying I lived through what for me, was an ordinary experience turned deadly extraordinary, and for two, the next time I find meself in a dire situation, be sure I speak the language.

So here it is. This weekend was muddy because of the spring-like weather. Then yesterday it snowed and the trek into Boston was salt, sand and generally dirty if you are a car. Last night I parked me Saturn in the garage and was home before the wife. When SHE came home she had to go around me car and oops rubbed up against all the road dirt and being displeased, she told me that the next day (today) would be a good day to get me car washed before I came home. SO this I did. The only time I had was at lunchtime and if I had known what I know now I'd never have done the deed.

One of me associates be sponsoring a young man from Somali. A nice young man this, getting used to wearing a tie and suit for the first time and chaffing a little at the tie, but proud to have mastered the hang of it, as it was. He be from a small village and had never seen a car (a jeep yes), had never ridden in one, nor had he been on a plane, or seen a big city like Boston until very recently. As you can imagine, all this culture shock takes some getting used to. His English be coming along at a rapid pace, as he be a bright young man. He be in a programme to better himself and learn about American customs, country, language, and get some skills he can go back to Somalia and earn a good living with the acquired knowledge.

Now Martin, as he calls himself be still finding honking horns, blaring sirens, multitudes of people hurrying along, and the city of Boston a wee bit daunting, but he's taking it in stride and learning. I rather like him, he's a tall drink of water like meself, and skinny like me, and he has exhibited a sense of humour much like . . . ME! It was natural we struck up a bit of working friendship. He was in me department learning what we do there and I was his mentor for the week. It started off great until today. Today was a new learning experience for us both.

At lunch I told him I would be going out, if he'd like to come I'd treat him to lunch and if he didn't mind, I'd be stopping to get me car washed. He said he would like the adventure and so off we went.

I took him to a pub that has the best sandwiches (I think) in our area and he tried an Irish Rubin, which was two thick slices of corned beef (boiled in Guinness), thousand island dressing, sauerkraut (dyed green), Swiss cheese on marbled Irish rye bread. He loved it, and had two! He downed both with two glasses of Guinness (I said, I'd not tell if he didn't about the alcohol) and so we two were very happy fellows when we left.

I pulled into a car wash that was on the way back to the office. Now here be where it all turned pear shaped.  I paid the money, and pulled up to the door of the wash. I said to Martin to make sure all the windows were closed on his side. He did and asked me if we were going to get out and wash the car. That should have been a hint, but stupid me gave it no thought and told him no, the machines do the cleaning. He looked puzzled as I pulled up and the men came out with the power hoses to spray the tyres, to which he said, "Oh, I see." But he didn't really and neither did I.

I was told to put me motor gear in neutral, foot off the brake and as the car started forward into the dark misty tunnel Martin asked me how the car was driving itself. Before I could answer, the jets opened up a rainbow of soap blocking out the windows with a loud splat, and poor Martin was stunned speechless.

The Soap which makes for a claustrophobic experience

Martin pointed nervously and moved about in his seat in a hyper nervous fashion. Before I could say a word, the giant brushes came out the sides and top (moon roof gave a great view of one of them pounding the car top) and the noise was so loud even if I shouted, I would not be heard or understood and that's exactly what happened.

Soap being moved around the sound was deafening!

Poor Martin was in fear for his life and was yelling in Somali (which I did not understand a word), tearing at getting his seatbelt off, wildly gesturing and trying to open the door. I caught him before he could and we'd be drowned and he began to fight me off like he didn't know who I was. He was shouting, "caawinta, caawinta!' which I later learned meant help, help!

We made it through the brushes to the wax. Oh my God, the wax came down in bright colourful streaks and his eyes got really big and he was waving his hands at it on the windscreen as if he could magically make it go away.

Was coming


The drying strips came banging into the windows next and he started screaming.

Drying strips came crashing down, poor Martin thought we were going to be crushed and then flogged to death!
Just as he got into full panic mode, suddenly there was that rumbling sound, the heat jets!

Wax nearly off when the rumbling sound of the heat jets kicked in.
I thought his eyes would pop out of his head as he felt the vibration and looked at me aghast. I kept trying to tell him it was ok and fend off his flaying arms at the same time.

I finally got him settled (I be not sure how exactly) when the jets started to wind down and in front of us was this:

THE DOOR TO THE OUTSIDE WAS CLOSED! Its the red thing in the picture.

The poor guy thought the car would smash through the door and he looked back and saw through the cleaning strips, brushes, and assorted sprays, and the HEADLIGHTS of another car right behind us. We were going to be crushed and that was that!

Oh my God we were doomed!
As we slowly inched up, heat jets vibrating, the door to escape didn't open. I was still trying to manhandle Martin to keep him settled. I had child locked the doors and windows so he couldn't get out, which when I let go of him he went for the handle and looked at me like he couldn't believe I'd forcefully lock him into his own death. It was all I could think to do so he wouldn't jump out into the middle of hot wax, hot water and hot jets! It also would keep me car from filling up with the same and possibly asphyxiating yours truly!

As we got closer, miraculously the door began to rise and thank the powers of the universe we were OUT and FREE of all the sound, fury and panic.

I did not know or even think what a car wash would seem like to someone who'd never been in one. The poor man was tear streaked down his face and sweat soaked through his new suit and well, the tie, the tie was frayed and askew as he had pulled at it to loosen it from choking him in his extreme anxiety. I felt terrible about this I did. I offered to buy him a new tie, have his suit cleaned and told him to keep the box of tissues Tonya always keeps in our cars for the kids snotty noses.

We were three blocks from the office parking garage by the time the experience wore off. Martin actually laughed albeit nervously, but laughed all the same telling me it was an experience he'd not soon forget, and now that he understands what it was and that it was safe and not going to kill him, he'd like to try another car wash someday, but no time soon.

When we got back to the floor where me department is, everyone turned around looking at a very dishevelled Martin, tear stained suit, rumbled and damp from sweat, even his dark mahogany skin was three shades lighter. Poor man's eyes were still bugging from his head and he looked like a deer caught in headlights. I looked no better, I was a rumbled mess from his fending me off from jumping out the car. I explained me stupidity to everyone and left early for home just to manage me own stress of the moment.

Of course, me Mam being the only one home, I told her the sordid tale and what did she do? She laughed so hard her sides ached. I thought I'd get some commiseration from her, but no, it was funny to her. I dunno, but I have me a straight up Jamesons to dull the memory which as you can read is still with me and probably will be until Martin moves onto another area than mine.


Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

12 March, 2016

Dragon Sayings - what happens when you need a cataract operation


12 March 2016

R. Linda:

Below are some of the pearls I had to put up with while the Dragon lady convalesced at me abode. I will miss none of this, but I do hope she gets that cataract operation and soon. She near drove me up a pole each morning as I poured me cup of joe, all set to slowly wake up and then, with a rattle of the newspaper she'd announced the daily headlines (Dragon version). I put in parenthesis the word she misread.

Brain (burn) victim transforms herself with makeup. How does someone do that? I mean . . . how?

Let me see that I said. I read what it really said, and she got up to fetch her reading glasses. Her glasses have that beaded chain that hooks around one earpiece and then the other so they hang around her neck if she needs them. Me, being me said nothing of the fact she was wearing them and let her go hunt about the place for what was right in front of her. Tonya was the one who put me game to bed by informing her mother her reading glasses were where they were.

The next day I got another read out.

Police say sweating (swatting) hoax led to shelter in place. Since when do the police come if someone is sweating? I don't get it.

Here let me see that I said, and read it but not out loud. OH that's a new policy the department put into effect a few weeks ago, said I. She looked at me frowning and I said, yes indeed, the road department can get pretty sweaty. That's when Tonya came over and took the paper, read the headline and corrected both of us. I had that Dragon going I tell ya, it was amusing to me at least, while it lasted.

Utah (UNH) studies oyster farming. I thought Utah was landlocked? Are there really oysters in the Great Salt Lake?

Now used to this crazy blindness, I said yes, yes, that's right a new study and the male dominated Mormons wanted to study the effects of consuming oysters, to which I was shut down pretty quickly by the wife AGAIN. Then there was this:

Geek (Greek) governor seeks help with migrants. Where is this? Is this where they send the geeks from Staples?

I said nothing, but almost choked on me cup of joe, and neither did the wife or me very own apple cheeked, gray haired Mam pipe up with correction. We let her keep that one. None of us had a retort. Though I made up for it on the next misread:

North Korean fighter (freighter) impounded. Just how do you impound a fighter and when did North Korea have boxing?

Oh, says I, they have a great boxer, just one mother Abdullah. Just one, but he is a feisty one he is (I started throwing air punches to emphasise that statement). He is so feisty, right Ma (I said to me Mam who was keeping a suspicious eye on yours truly) to which she nodded. Well there you go, if me Mam agreed it must be true. Tonya was getting the kiddos ready for school so I got that gem under me belt. Yesterday she reads this:

Search for gift (girl) underway. WHAT?

I took the paper, there was a teen missing and I didn't want to make light of that, but she had no clue, so I quipped that the Mayor's birthday present had gone missing and well . . . to which me wife walked in, looked over Dragon's shoulder, read the headline and gave me an angry look. I dropped it knowing I had gone too far. Then just this morning I walk into this:

Chaos as magnates (migrants) jostle for food supplies. Since when do magnates need to compete against each other for food? Why I never. What is this world coming to?

OH, said I, is Donald Trump about those steaks again? But I didn't get far the wife caught me and that was that until Dragon read another line out to us.

Mother of three sleeping on sheets (streets). Well, where else would she be sleeping? Tsk!

I nodded in commiseration that the news reporting was just plain stupid and said so. I mean, I said to her, it must be a slow news day that my associates stoop so low as to write commonalities that we are all aware of. Yes, I said shaking me head, it is awful when nothing much be happening and you have to write about someone sleeping on sheets or worse not being able to read what is really there because they are blind as a bat. Yes indeed.

For that I got from the wife, Stop that right now, enough of this foolishness in the morning.

Well, me amusement be over, the Dragon be on her way to airport as I write this, yes she is got her broom and headed out with her pointy hat and shoes. I can't say I will miss the old bat, but the morning read out of the daily headlines will be not the same. SIGH. But I be so damn happy she's gone home to the Pine Barrens to take up her mantle as the Jersey Devil. So damn happy I can't express it enough.

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