Waxen royal figures
Whose mere presence
At least, in their own minds
Never had any money
To dispel silence
Icy death stares
No explanations given
A more loose-knit committee has heretofore never been seen. Building a piece of furniture, with tools and volunteer craft persons 800 miles from the comfort of my workshop, is proving to be a challenge. Not impossible, but quite unwieldy.
Yesterday afternoon, most of the committee members met in a informal backyard setting, around the swimming pool. There were no disagreements. However, most members were more concerned with what was for dinner–stuffed pork chops.
My two mutts and Bogart, step-daughter’s dog, are getting along well. There was an incident the second morning, where my trusting spouse, let Maggie out of the yard to test whether or not she would stay within property lines. Needless to say, Maggie headed for the nearest ravine–full of briars. The recalcitrant pup was retrieved; and in the process, we met Roxanne–the nice neighbor lady across the street. It turned out we had mutual acquaintances, and received an invite to an upcoming soire.
That’s the view from here in the northern climes. The leaves have yet to change, but the temps have gotten into the forties at night. Another impromptu committee meeting could happen at any time. More volunteers could join this rag-tag army. Wouldn’t that be something?
For normal, nine to fivers, this is the beginning of the weekend. In this household it’s the beginning of madness associated with preparations for entertaining house guests, or leaving for a trip out-of-town. The madness is the same.
Everything is topsy-turvy for days on end. Planning in detail for sleeping accommodations, menus, activities, home decor updates–and, on and on.
That’s just inside the house. The yard and patio also have to be perfect.
To keep my sanity–comic relief in the form of headlines, then highlights from my spam folder.
- Two well-known celebrities were rescued from an elevator. A revolving door would have been funnier.
- A person that’s been in the headlines a lot this year, was questioned about their aloof appearance. Perhaps fewer goofy questions from reporters might have helped?
- There’s, yet another, new portrayal of the late Colonel Sanders. The real Colonel, founder of KFC, rests in a cemetery plot. Should there be any doubt, KFC, is still Kentucky Fried Chicken–the original Colonel’s secret recipe, with eleven herbs and spices.
In spite of fierce competition, there was a winner. My spam folder took on, an even more, international flavor. There were two entries written in Chinese characters, two in Spanish, one in Portuguese.
Jacelyn–if that is indeed the person’s real name? It didn’t matter, anyway. A verbal barrage, attempted to flatter; sucker me into clicking on a specific URL, took up almost an entire page.
Rarely have I seen such an extreme case of verbal diarrhea, that had no beginning, no end, and nothing in the middle.
Most captions on my home page are written to be compelling. In too many cases they are much ado about nothing.
Human foibles can be awkward. Why make more of them, than they deserve?
It happened to me, once again, last week. At the gym, a pleasant looking lady, mistook me for someone she knew. I responded with a generic, “Good to see you–how’ve you been?” Didn’t know, who the heck she was, anymore than the “Cat in the Hat.”
Other, more gregarious types might have said. “Do I know you? I think you’re confusing me with someone else.” Or, the more hostile, “I don’t know you–leave me alone.”
What had happened? Was it mistaken identity? Lack of visual acuity? I’m a generic looking, gray haired senior–probably have several doppelgangers out there.
Whatever the case was–live and let live. Why make something out of nothing?
Learned to say no
At my age
Saving energy–a misnomer
Energy never left
Changed to different forms
Begged to be used–reused
Mighty egos clashed
In stormy emotion
That didn’t need to be
Hicks from the sticks
Rappelled down precipices
Discussed sock monkey puppets
Rock and roll, Rubik’s cubes
Shalimar perfume, evenings in Paris
“Might I have seen you before?”
A face familiar from a distance
“No, it never happened,” She replied.
Her genes distressed at that point
At least, one of us was happy
Emotions soared to places
Everyone had been before
Simple problems turned into mountains
Such, was a week in the life of a fool