What About the Warranty?

Arrgh! My watch band broke. Where was the receipt? Found it. Purchase date, April 22nd, of the current year. Warranty disclaimers had more holes than the Titanic.

Went to the place of purchase. They were more helpful, than expected; temporarily fixed the band, till the correct pins arrived by mail.

The worn-out vacuum bit the big one and went to dead appliance Valhalla.

Much to do before escaping for an extended weekend with friends. Did I mention the riding mower battery failed before mowing the lawn? It failed to hold a charge–four-years old. It’s been hard to keep ahead of the broken stuff lately.

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The Most Wonderful Time Of Year–Not

September is my birth month. It’s also the most active time for tropical weather.

The past few years have been relatively quiet around my little part of the Gulf Coast. Memories of past hurricanes Ivan and Katrina still haunt.

My storm panels wait, at the ready, in case we need to board up and evacuate. I don’t wish ill of anyone, but if nasty storm Irma heads this direction, I’m bugging out.

Big, Bad, Bugs

Deep Southern

Monsters crept

Palmetto bugs

Resembled

Gigantic roaches

Large stink bugs

With airfoils on

Their, back legs

Flew further, to be

Even more annoying

Fire ants in giant

Ant hills, bit with

Ferociousness of

The devil himself

Never ever went away

The topper of them all

Was the mole cricket

Weird, burrowing insect

With mole-like front end

Cricket-like back end

A face, not even

A mother could love

 

Image, http://www.wikipedia.com/–

Nothing To Say?

I’ve always got something to say. Just don’t want to give opinions on some things.

National and international news has been dismal of late. Trying to take the high road–not add to the divisiveness.

Love bugs seem to be back early this late summer. Weren’t they supposed to show in September? Maybe they will leave early?

Why are love bugs important? They’re not if you don’t live in the coastal southeastern United States–or, if you go on vacation to this part of the country. Their acidic dead bodies, can damage paint on the front of your car, if not removed promptly.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been without a car. No worries, I can bum rides from neighbors. till the car is released from the auto body shop.

Isn’t it crazy how all the tasks requiring an automobile flood one’s mind. So, I mowed the lawn. Now, I’m too exhausted to think about it..

Double Placebo, Blindfold Test

My hot and cold running, IP connection can be frustrating. Less frustrating because I had a good breakfast.

A few years ago, we hailed “King Kale” as the king of all the leafy green vegetables. Never thought I’d see beets, honored in the same way. Dried beet chips–who’d a thunk it?

I eat each item separately on my plate. There’s no dabbling, sampling a little of this-or-that.  Brussel sprouts and cooked cabbage aren’t among my favorites.  However, spiced up properly, I will try them.

I once knew a fellow that couldn’t stand for anyone to touch his food–other than himself. If someone sampled his French fries, the remaining ones were tossed in the trash. Do you know someone with unusual dietary habits?

In dyslexic fervor, I hung up all of my freshly-laundered trousers facing opposite to the ones already hung. My laziness outweighed any OCD tendencies.

Whatever the situation, it may help to try the Double Placebo, Blindfold Test.  Or was it the Double Blind, Placebo Test?

Signs, Signs–Everywhere Signs

Early Sunday morning at a familiar chain restaurant famous for pancakes.

Signs were there–everywhere. This place had changed since our last visit.

Half the floor space had been partitioned off. A new entrance added, with a for lease sign in the front window.

There weren’t many diners in the place. Yet, it looked like some had left in a hurry. Tables hadn’t been cleared. Trashed littered the floor. Where were the worker bees?

The waiter/manager/greeter was in a snit over making change for the customer in front of us in line. Had he been given a large denomination bill?

“He’d left his wallet at home, and thank goodness, his brother worked there–otherwise making change would have been impossible.”

Other customers lined up behind us.  Grumbling began among the ranks.  Why was it taking so long?  Were we waiting to pay or to get in?

How could a restaurant, that offered good service in the past, go downhill so quickly?

Last summer, with a group of visitors, service had been slow–otherwise not too bad.

There was the morning when this same restaurant ran out of coffee.  Plenty of the de-caffeinated variety; per the manager stock hadn’t been reordered.

That time, after complaining on their website, we were given a certificate for a free breakfast.  I’m not complaining this time–because I don’t intend to ever come back.

The “signs” suggested, detour; avoid this place; go elsewhere.

 

Editor’s Note:  My fingers fumbled and published this prematurely.  I should have added, that I  had no qualms about visiting other restaurants in this franchise.  The local one was the problem.

No Alarm Bells Going Off in My Head

This has been a quiet Saturday. There was a ninety per cent chance of rain predicted. I’m looking out from the ten per cent side of that prediction.

Rain would possibly have made it more comfortable, than the over eighty per cent dew point. So much for meteorological chit- chat.

What does one do when there’s nothing in particular to write about? Write about why there are no subjects about which to write. There are many topics–some of them I won’t touch.

I repaired the vacuum cleaner this morning.  Did that get your attention?  I certainly hope it didn’t.  Two dogs in the household with associated hair clumps, tortured the poor machine almost to oblivion.

Do you dislike posts on Facebook that call for participation? Copy and paste this–otherwise you are an insensitive, boorish, non-believing hypocrite, or some other (fill-in-blank) foolishness. Subjects repeated in a closed loop, eight-track tape fashion, again-and-again.

Do you find “phrases of the moment” annoying? The latest one seems to be “at some point.” At least it has drawn attention away from the other annoying phrase, “at the end of the day.” Because “at the end of the day,” “at some point,” people have to think for themselves.