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Wednesday, November 28, 2007
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Wee Tree
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While waiting for a prescription at Hannaford's Market on Monday, I spied the cutest little rosemary bush. It was about a foot and a half high and shaped vaguely like a Christmas tree. There were others which were ultra pruned to look like Christmas trees, but the one I liked looked more like a bush. Rosemary is my favorite herb; so fragrant and tasty. I couldn't help myself and shelled out the fifteen dollars. Upon arriving home I placed my little tree on the kitchen table. Teds and Ray scampered into the room to check out the scene. "No, Mommy, no!" wails Teds. "No! We want a BIG tree! No!" Teds mistakenly thinks this is our annual Christmas tree. Ray starts to freak out, "That's stupid! We want a big tree, that's STUPID!" There was panic in his voice. I, of course, had no idea they would mistake this for our Christmas tree. It struck me quite funny. Before I blurted out what I had actually bought, along comes Mr. Helpful himself, Chaz. "Don't worry, Aunt Linda always gets a big tree, you'll get to look at hers." "No! no!" "That's STUPID!" Teds eyes welled up with tears. Ahhhhhhhgggggg! Another day in the life. |
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| thus voiced Mrs A @ 11:18 AM | |
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Thursday, November 22, 2007
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Happy Thanksgiving!!!
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The staph here at Fetafilter wishes you all a most wonderful Thanksgiving holiday! We hope that you will all take a minute to think about all of those things for which you are thankful. Beyond all of the obvious ones of my family, home, country, etc., I am thanklful that I got to spend a few minutes early this morning just after sunrise, standing quietly at the edge of a small pond. I got to watch maybe 75 ducks and geese floating on the water, appear and disappear into the thick fog sitting on the water. They were making an unbelievable amount of noise, quacking and honking. I walked up to the edge of the water, watched them for a while and then walked off without them noticing me. Really cool. I am also thankful that the television writers are on strike. So long as they are, they will not be producing the drivel that they feel so underpaid to write. I figure that any time the drivel-pipeline gets shut down, even if only for a short while, that it can't help but be a good thing. So once you take the little tinfoil tent off of the turkey and are waiting for it to brown, you can pass the time with this great little Thanksgiving flash game. Watch out for those forks! |
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| thus voiced The A, Mistah @ 9:29 AM | |
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Thursday, November 15, 2007
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The passing of the dudes...
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OK, don't worry, they didn't die. At least we don't think so. "The Dudes" are two brothers who bought the house next door to us a number of years ago. They were quickly dubbed "The Dudes next door" by one of the kids, and from that day forward we always referred to them as "the dudes". They were not real friendly types, clearly drank way too much, spoke mostly in four-letter words, and we could hear their stereo thumping at 2 or 3 in the morning, even through the winter when all of our windows were closed. In spite of all that we more-or-less peacefully coexisted with them, mostly by ignoring them. That took some effort, as we had to endure without comment the loud music, the loud foul-mouthed discussions, the multiple loud drunken arguments over girlfriends (once requiring police intervention), to say nothing of the ten foot high bonfires they would build next to our property and then sit around it, blasting the radio, drinking, yelling and blowing off fireworks late into the night. Much of the wood for those fires was gathered by skulking about my backyard at night, grabbing wood. I always sort of wanted to hollow out an innocent looking 2" log, fill the hole with a quarter pound or so of black powder, plug up the hole and then leave it laying in the back yard for them to grab. It would have been big fun when they tossed that in the fire. Mrs. A stopped me from ever trying that trick, saying that it would likely blow sparks onto my roof and burn our house down. And I won't even try to detail the "Leaf-blower" or "Fence" incidents. Anyhow, after all of that nonsense and much more, the Dudes have finally passed on to wherever Dudes go when they leave your neighborhood. We don't know any details, nobody on the street really spoke to them. One day it became obvious that one of the Dudes had moved out then a short while later, a "for sale" popped up in front of the house. After several months, the sign came down and the last Dude packed up and left without saying a word to anyone. Nobody knows why. I can't help but wonder if the 22 gallons of Dude-B-Gone that I sprayed around the place had anything to do with it. |
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| thus voiced The A, Mistah @ 8:37 PM | |
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Friday, November 02, 2007
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Guess what, it's...
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 Opening day of BEAVER SEASON!!! Hope you have some room in that freezer, Marg! |
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| thus voiced The A, Mistah @ 9:55 PM | |
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Thursday, November 01, 2007
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I just stumbled on this:Makes Own False Teeth of Stainless Steel (Oct, 1937)Now this is my kind of guy! We just don't have people like this any more, and our country is worse off as a result. |
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| thus voiced The A, Mistah @ 7:00 AM | |
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