A New Fence

It was 2:22 am when the call came. The caller asked if I had the house for sale off Pipkin Road. All I could think was, “This is blogworthy! A house sale call in the middle of the night.” I tried to wake up enough to sound as though a call for the house was not unusual at 2:22 am. “Yes…” He was breathing heavily and obviously outside on a cell phone. Suddenly fear gripped my hair follicles and I realized I was in a hotel in Orlando and my husband was snoring in our bed, vulnerable to this quacko.

Did he have a gun? Was he going to rob us and shoot Opie? (Opie is my 4 pound poodle love.) Okay. Okay. My second thought was ….or my hubbie? How can I warn him while I keep this quacko on the phone?

He continued, “Someone just crashed into your back fence and I think you had better get out here now.” As fast as the hair went up – it went down. I called Bill – 2:26 am. He was up and had taken one of his 11 trusty flashlights out in the back yard and discovered the shocking mess.

Both dogs having been counted as safe, he blocked their exit. Not to worry, Buster the wonder dog was hiding behind the blanket making his barking-growling-howling noises. Hubbie went out to meet the FHP and get the scoop on the now abandoned vehicle.

All in all, this registrar’s conference in Orlando must have been providence. It would have made a terrible night for the hubbie had I been home and experienced it all first-hand. He is much braver than I.

So – I guess we get a new fence. That is interesting, exciting, annoying, and inconvenient. But I think I will put lights on a new fence for Christmas. Yeah!

Monster Truck

Well, I had to make sure that everyone around me knew that I did not usually come to these kinds of events. For some reason they all found it funny. It was intermission. I was talking through my sweater that I was holding over my nose. It stunk like – why do we study cow farts and their impact on the environment? Why don’t we study monster truck fumes and THEIR impact?

My grandson Andrew was finding the evening full of exciting moments – big tires crushing cars, revving the engines, racing each other over the likes of dying vans, old dodges and fords – all spray painted baby blue with flying beer flags all over them. We were in the second row. We could feel the force of the crush as the monster tire on the monster truck made pancakes of them all. The truck shells looked so odd on top of all that metal - a combobulation of springs, exhaust pipes, and suspension stuff. As they reared in the air and roared their underbellies were impressive.

We had to stand up and throw our hands in the air and cheer for “Geter Done” and “Wild Thang” and “Monster Patrol”. I saw Andrew’s veins in the side of his neck – his face was all red and his eyes fierce – full of manliness as he cheered the tilting and bobbling trucks on. Grampy just took it all in with quiet laughter – pleased with Drew’s enthusiasm.

Motor cyclists performed daring high jumps with their bikes – one did a complete flip with motor cycle and all. I heard Andrew scream “AWESOME” – but all I could think is I hope you don’t kill yourself young man.

We got autographs. That was really cool for Drew. All in all a good fun night with the Drew. But I will never go again!

Don’t – I Mean Donut

I have been out of town for four days at a software consortium meeting. That is boring. The good part is I got to spend time with three ladies I work with. Women talk about such different things than men. Last time I was with two men from work. Men talk about the menu – “Well, look at that – they’ve got a buffalo burger here!” “Yeah, ever eaten at Wing House – gotta love that buffalo sauce!” while rubbing his belly. They spend four days together eating each evening together - and don’t even know each other’s names.

Women are different. We hardly had time to order because within five minutes of sitting down we were deep in conversation about caring for a dying mother and the pain of divorce. We know how many kids we each have, how many siblings, what we are allergic too, how we are handling menopause, out philosophy on exercise and our latest diet challenges. And…we share a triple decker chocolate chip cookie ice cream mountain.

It must have done something to my female hormones. In 24 hours I have gone from wanting to quit work, to wanting to be old and die, to wanting to get off my butt and exercise – to wanting to eat a dozen glazed raised donuts.

I guess you know what I did. But honestly there were only three – not a dozen!!! I hate female hormones when they betray me!