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.

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!


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."

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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." 

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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."

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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

Content: WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!



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

Content: NOW WE ARE REALLY ALL GONNA DIE!



 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.

Gabe
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?

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

19 May, 2016

A matter of nudity

808

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?

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

15 May, 2016

Fun and Games

807

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.

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

20 April, 2016

Oh MY - it was like living one of me nightmares

806

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.

"I ASKED FOR COVERAGE FOR STATION (TOWN NAME)!" Was the shouted reply.

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.

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

07 April, 2016

An addition to the family -- no not mine!

805

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

804

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.

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

22 March, 2016

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

803

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

WAX ON

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.

SIGH!

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

12 March, 2016

Dragon Sayings - what happens when you need a cataract operation

802

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.

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

28 February, 2016

It all went so horribly wrong!

801

29 February 2016

R. Linda:

Me Mam has made friends with a few ladies since she moved to this side of the pond. One of them lives in the town next to ours, which is a place with scattered small lakes. So you have that mix of lake community type homes and then you have your rather nice bigger homes that dot the wooded area around the lakes.

It wasn't until one of Mam's friends husband passed away I found out that the place is a swingers haven. Or so I was told. I went to the biggest of the lakes in that town for a day of ice fishing. As you know cold weather sports are not me thing, just the sport of forced shovelling of snow be me expertise, but I went not so much to fish (I'd let the kiddos do that) but for the camaraderie of it.

So the first thing I see as we pulled up is a sign THIN ICE. Well, yes, because of the strange spring weather most of the ice has melted on the smaller lakes, while it hasn't formed at all on the bigger ones. I saw most of the bob houses were pulled to the shore except for two and a mobile trailer home. The trailer home was sinking into the ice as people with cameras were recording the event and well, I was thinking going out on that ice not a good idea with wee people.

Can't you just hear them saying: "What to do?"
For one thing, who parks a trailer home on a lake with hot sun reflecting off of it melting the ice? Two, how does one get it out of sinking to the bottom as water fills it, and three, will three guys be able to haul it up even with cables? Nah, the answer is let it sink and every day its down there pay a $500 fine until spring when you can get someone with an industrial winch to bring it to shore. I tell ya!

Anyway, not me problem, me problem was finding at least five inches of ice to drill a fishing hole. I needn't worry there were a few holes already dug where the saner among us had deemed it not safe to stand out on melting ice and fish. With that in mind I told the kiddos it would be a short fishing trip because of circumstances, but I needn't have worried, they saw friends on shore and that's what they wanted to do, play on the beach instead. Well, I didn't even touch the fishing tackle, I made merry with the blokes on shore watching the mobile home we dubbed the Titanic, slowly sinking down, down, down!

It was as all this was going down (ha ha), that I heard about the swingers in town. Well, the stories were on the fantastic side and I won't repeat them, but for one name that was familiar to me. That was me Mam's friends husband. I found out he died of a heart attack during a liaison with another woman who was in the circle of me Mam's friends. I was at first amused and then horrified. Did me Mam know this about the people she was associating with?

When I got home she was wringing her hankie and tears were streaming down her face as she told me Harriet's husband had passed away and poor Harriet this, and poor Harriet that. I asked her after a time how he had passed and she told me straight out what had happened.

"Did you know this bit of stuff was going on?" I asked.

"Well, for sure and I did, but Harriet didn't at first mind Gabriel, but the old geezer had found that Viagra and well . . ." she trailed off shaking her head.

"OH!" Said I rather surprised. I knew nothing of the Viagra.

"You will go to the funeral wit me won't ye?" She asked me.

What was I to say? I didn't want to, but I said yes and asked when it was. Well, to make a long story short, I found out there was competition for years between Harriet and the other woman. They were at one time best friends in high school and the friendship continued into their old age. BUT this woman who I will call Fredricka, always had a crush on Harriet's dearly departed (or not so dearly departed) husband, Muggie as he was affectionately called, because he would mug for the camera, or as me Mam more accurately put it, photobomb everyone's pictures because he was an egomaniac.

When Muggie discovered Viagra he near drove Harriet to distraction and she knowing Fredricka was single and liked Muggie, sort of set them up to get him out of her hair. This went well until Fredricka introduced Muggie to the rest of the swingers in town and well, he was having a Viagra good time.

When Harriet found out she confronted both of them and put her foot down that enough was enough. She told Fredricka never to darken her doorstep and took Muggie's stash of Viagra and flushed it down the toilet. You can imagine the scene all that presented.

"If you ever get with that woman or any woman, I hope you have a heart attack and die!" Harriet shouted at the complaining Muggie.

Well, it came true, Muggie got more of the miracle working blue pills that made him feel like a teenager again, and hooked up with Fredricka and the rest is history.

This was the funeral I was being dragged to. I didn't want to go. I knew no good was going to come out of it until I realised I might get a story for you. So off I went, me Mam acting all sorrowful for her friend, but secretly thinking Muggie got his comeuppance.

We walked into the funeral home and there at the front of the room, was Muggie all laid out. The coffin resting on one of those metal elevator type things which you see gurneys on. I thought because of the wheels they just wheeled Muggie in and out when it was viewing time, or as me Mam referred to it, "Show time." I tell ya the woman be something.

Everyone acted tearful and sympathetic until Fredricka darkened the doorway. Oh my goodness me, R. Linda, the room actually hushed and Fredricka cast a shadow from the light of the hallway behind her which all she needed was a DA TADA DA and the scene would have been complete. Suddenly as if on cue Fredricka let out a wail and with open arms ran to the open casket as we all in shock watched. Making sure she was the centre of attention she said things that stunned everyone, but not the widow who watched the scene as if she was watching a tv show -- completely detached. Without any warning Fredricka reached into the casket and started shaking Muggie to "wakeup!"

Then without any warning to Fredricka, the metal elevator thing collapsed from her weight leaning into it and from the shaking of Muggie. It was like slow motion the casket, Muggie half in and half out, and Fredricka, skirts up to her panties coming to a bounding rest with Fredricka part way in the broken casket with Muggie's arm around her.

Everyone was shock still. No one moved, but I had the presence of mind to look at their faces and they were trying not to laugh! Until Harriet let out a huge guffaw and well . . . you can imagine the chaos as people and funeral attendants ran to disentangle Fredricka from the corpse and the busted casket. So much Fredricka for making a scene.

Never in me life R. Linda have I been to a spectacle like that. I told me Mam to reevaluate her friends because I was not accompanying her to anymore funerals. I was done. Anyway, me Mam assured me she was not friends with Fredricka but couldn't desert Harriet in her time of need. I don't think Harriet is in any need, Muggie left her well off and she's on her way to tour Germany and Austria, so much for mourning. As to Fredricka I hear her house is up for sale and no one's seen her since the scandal she caused at Muggie's departure. I would expect Dragon lady to have these kinds of friends, but me Mam? I don't know about the woman sometimes.

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

26 February, 2016

Shopping with me MOTHER

26 February 2016

R. Linda:

Last weekend me Mam thought it would be nice to visit a new business a friend of Tonya's set up. Now Tonya never suggested this, but for some reason, me Mam thought it a great idea to help the business along and at the same time score Ton some brownie points for being a good friend. She was hot to trot on this, and I can only think because snow was melting, it was 50 some degrees outside and she was feeling a need to get out and away from the Dragon (who was making Mam into her own personal nursemaid).

So seeing the problem I agreed to go, and was thinking that opening an antique shop a strange venture since New Hampshire be an antique collectors dream. You could take a month and it would not be enough to visit every antique shop in the state. There is even a map called the Antique Trail, that one can follow all over the state if one be so inclined.

I took me Mam to the newly opened shop and as we walked in, there were cafe tables and a coffee maker with different kinds of coffee available. I suppose this be for the weary collector who be needing a jolt of joe to wire him or her shopping experience up. I wanted to wait there and drink meself into oblivion but me old wan wouldn't hear of it.

We went to the book section first and meandered through all the mouldy and ancient tomes covered in dust. Most were books on art collection, or porcelains, or state papers, and stuff I have no interest in, but every so often me Mam would shout at me, "Oh luuk Gabriel, here be a buuk on Catlick chorches!" OH BOY just want I'd want to read.

Another section over and I found meself in the "old treasures" section which was really the junk section, and from behind the wall of books I hear, "OOOH luuk Gabriel, here be a buuk on Nort Iron!" Yeah well being from there I didn't need to read about that either.

Further into the junk section I was intrigued by the selection of old riding boots. Who in their right mind would want some raggedy and muddy riding boots that were also bent at places that would take the skin off ones shins should they try to walk in them?

I was blasted out of that perplexity of thought by, "OOOH GABRIEL, ye should see dis here buuk, it be all about da twelt apostles and da las sooper."

Yee-ah. Time to get her out of the book section at which she was sneezing her fool head off from picking up the dusty volumes.

But she wasn't parting with a paperback book entitled HOW TO FIRE A CANON. I did not ask.

We made it around the entire store in an hour and 15. The only thing we had to show for it was the crazy paperback book. Mam had already announced who we were when we came in to the owner at the cash register, vowing to do him proud with a few "porchesess". So when we walked up to the register, me Mam made another announcement, "I con't say I will win da prize fer mose expensive porchess of da day!" Oh ha ha Mam.

I didn't know how bad it was until the man at the cash register said, "That will be one dollar."

OMG OMG OMG!!!

Could she not have found the cheapest book in the store? I tell ya. But that wasn't the worst of it.

"Do ye want dat in change?" She grins.

I wanted to crawl out the door but the good natured owner said, he preferred a bill but if she wanted to count her pennies, that was good too. Oi!

She slapped a dollar bill on the counter with a huge smile and he laughed. I wasn't laughing.

"Do you want a receipt?" Asked he only making it worse.

"Why fer sure," she had the nerve to answer. I could stand it no more and started to walk out like I wasn't with her, but no she called me back to carry her "porches" which embarrassed me to the core, because I had bought nothing.

At dinner that night she regaled Tonya how she did her friend a good turn and even bought a book. Tonya was all polite and somewhat charmed. I was shaking me head at her not to be so charmed, but like Lady Edith of Downton Abbey me Mam went on a glowing tribute to herself but all was squashed when our resident Lady Mary (Dragon) piped up and said to Tonya, "Before you get all carried away dear, know she did spend over an hour in your friends shop and she did buy herself a book. Yes, a lovely book on firing canons and the best part is, it only cost a dollar."

Smiling smugly the Dragon went back to her meal while me Mam looked with chagrin at her.

"Oh that was so good of you," Tonya addressed me Mam, "I wouldn't have bought anything after about the same amount of time. We don't have that kind of house anymore. Antiques would look so out of place here. And what an interesting subject canons. There is that old makeshift canon the boys have, you know the one Mam, it faces the guest room? I wonder if your book would tell you how to fix it to really work."

No one said a word, that was that, Lady Grantham had spoken and we got the gist of it. Yes, Dragon has ensconced herself in the guest room where so-called canon faces it on the other side of the wall.

I did notice a sneer cross me Mam's face as she looked at a rather surprised Dragon and muttered, "I wonder . . ." Oh ladies, ladies, ladies!

Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved

23 February, 2016

The Great Muffin Caper

23 February 201,

R. Linda:

Last night I was feeling a bit peckish. The ladies of the house usually have baked goodies hanging around the kitchen, but lately because of the Dragon lady's convalescence, the baking department is pretty much closed down. Yes, indeed and when one, such as meself, has an operating sweet tooth that is in residence 24/7 it is agony I tell ya!

The problem has been the constant needing to be waited on hand and foot. The Dragon lady is to be up and about as you know, exercising the new knee but because of her weight, it be taking a tad longer to heal than skinny old me did. We complain of being tired and needing to sit down for a spell. Yes, she does, and I be very accommodating by saying, "Yes Ducky, you must sit it down, throwing all that weight around must wear your poor self out." Oh I do say that because I can no longer hold me displeasure of the woman in. She hardly talks to me and I act like I be offended but secretly I be very pleased with meself, not to be engaged in the senseless Dragon conversations.

The main reason for this be not me dislike for her (though that factors in), but the fact she still has not had her cataract operation and so she reads things askew. She drives me nuts with things like, "What is this pigs on sale at the produce section?" It said FIGS not PIGS. And then there was "Hog licenses are due by April 2?" It was a notice for DOG licenses, I swear because of her inability to see and her SIZE, her mind be on swine.

So because people avoid the kitchen area where the Dragon stakes herself out most all day and all night, the O'Sullivan Baked Goods be closed for business. Neither me Mam nor the Dragon's lovely daughter, will venture into the kitchen only long enough to make coffee or tea, and that's about it. A liquid diet doesn't do it for the candyholic. So desperate for something sweet, I ventured into the kitchen last evening, when the ladies of the house (including the Dragon) had gone next door for coffee and cookies at a neighbour who had been going through a horrendous divorce (when we first moved in) who now wanted to meet her new neighbours. That is the ladies of me abode, but not the husband because she now hates men. Thus, I was home with a promise from me apple cheeked gray haired mum to steal a few cookies for her sonny boy, ME!

There I was looking through the cupboards for anything I could whip up in a jiffy. The only thing was a box of cranberry muffins. Well, better than nothing I thought and when saw all I needed to add was a cup and a quarter of water, well easy peasy!

I did this, got it all mixed by hand with me only audience, me hyper setter and Dragon's hound, I popped those babies in the oven. Yes, the hound is back! I heated the oven to 400 and while I waited, boiled water for me French roast coffee. I had the muffins in, me feet up on the table (I could get away with that since the ladies were out and about), and so I waited. After 20 minutes, the baking was done. I got the hot water in the French Roast to steep, and got all the muffins on a wire rack to cool, when suddenly the fire alarm went off.

I realised I left the oven door open and I suppose some of the batter had dripped on the elements below causing smoke. Well, I ran over to the cellar door which be where the alarm be located and fanned the door back and forth to disperse the smoke before the ADT people called the fire department and oh my how embarrassing. The fire department had been over three times in a week already because, one time the fireplace kicked back smoke because it was cold when we lit it. The second was the carbon monoxide alarm went off when we lit the wood boiler downstairs. It had been cold too and kicked back smoke when first lit with a lot of carbon monoxide. We have had an exceptionally warm winter so heat not needed, but those two cold nights well, it was fire department time! The last was me wife had put in a pork pie she made special for me in the oven, and the oven she used (we have two) needed to be cleaned but she forgot to use the other oven and well, the fire department was here again for the smoke. Oi! So it was imperative I beat the ADT people to calling the fire department for the fourth time in a week. I whipped that door back and forth like a man out of his mind I tell ya! I had only a few more beeps before the system would kick in and the firemen arrived. I worked me tail off moving that door back and forth like a bellows.

Meanwhile, the two cats were creeping up the basement stairs to make an escape and I was doing me best to fan the door and kick in the air on the basement side to keep the two escapees below. However, as I was doing this which was becoming hard work, I hear behind me a crash and then dogs fighting. I turned as much as I could and there were the two dogs with the muffins, on the floor, fighting over them. They were dashed to pieces and the alarm was still going off, the cats were still challenging me kicking leg to get passed me into the kitchen and well R. Linda I was cursing at all of them especially the dogs. FINALLY I got the alarm to stop, ran to the stove, closed the door and then to the counter where I rescued four muffins! FOUR MUFFINS R. LINDA that's all I had left of me stash of cranberry goodies! Then I rushed to me phone to see if in all the noisy excitement me phone had rung with the ADT people calling to tell me they had called the fire department. To me relief there was no call so I caught it in the nick, BUT at the cost of me muffins! I was beside meself in grief. Much like you feel when you've made a batch of fudge and leave it to cool and to come back to find the Daddy Man has eaten it all!

And to add insult to injury one is dented! Probably from a dog tooth.

And equal time to the two miscreants who ate me fresh handmade cranberry muffins. You will notice the one, THE HOUND has not the brains to cover his guilty face, but me dog does. She be thinking by wearing that mask I won't recognise her guilty self. Uh huh.

The guilty HOUND

The equally guilty SETTER

I be so disappointed in both of them.

Gabe
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