Uncategorized

So I call Cox Communications and ask what the outrageous gouge for $115 is for, since I never make long-distance calls and hardly even make local calls. The moron who answers says, in effect, that’s just the regular price.

No, it’s not. I’ve never had a $115 gouge for ordinary local phone service.

Sheeeee-ut.  Now I’ll have to ask the Owner of the Male Voice — i.e., my son — to call those clowns and ask WTF that’s about.

Jayzuz! Never a dull moment.

It’s the weirdness of it that’s scary. Like…in the minutes since I posted the last weird FaM entry, the wind — which had been blowing briskly — has stopped dead.

No, that’s not an exaggeration. We’re talkin’ STOPPED. DEAD.  Not a breath of air stirring. Whaaaa??????

No kidding: just a few moments it was whirling around. Now: nothing.

Why?

How? 

And if it has meaning,, what does it mean?

So here’s the Human: loafing in its easy chair, swilling coffee, and munching chocolate. And there’s the Dawg: squirreling around with something on the floor.

Human takes a swiggle of coffee and a closer look, and…and…

HOOOLEEE maquerel! That something is a SCORPION. 

Incredibly, it hasn’t yet launched its defenses against the Dawg.

IS there REALLY never a dull goddam moment?
And why th’Hell NOT????

Human leaps up, chases the dog off, grabs an old jar and a piece of stiff paper.

Into the glassware with the little guy, lidded in with the paper slab.

What an amazing and wonderful creature!  Looks like something that came straight from some Age Before the Dinosaurs.

So we carry the little guy through the garage and out the door, way into the front yard. Down by the street, as far from the Shack as possible. Gently, carefully let him out into the gravel beneath one of the trees.

Now, if you were God, what on earth (or in Heaven) would persuade you to create such a strange little beast?

Kinda mystifies me: I could never imagine how to put such an animal together.

Presumably, that’s why I’m not God, eh? 😉

The heavy-duty steel screen door is closed and locked…interior door open to let in some fresh air and let Ruby peer out.

WHAT a goddam place we live in, where you dare not leave the kitchen door open while you putter around the house! Ruby the Corgi, of course, would make a ruckus if someone tried to enter…but by then it would be too late for the human.

Some bastards nabbed a woman out of her home near Tucson the other day. She’s been gone the better part of a month. No knows what happened to her…though presumably the puddle of blood outside her door is not a good sign.

I really should keep a pistol at hand. But…ugh! That is just NOT my style. I don’t want a gun laying around, thankyouverymuch! No, not even in a house where no kids hang out.

Really, though…I suppose it isn’t safe to be loafing in your family room totally unarmed. Bad idea.

Well, it’s something to think about. Something tiresome to think about….

Because we live in a hectic part of the city, one thing we don’t have to fret about here is rattlesnakes. In some precincts, that is an issue.

Oh well… In other sylvan precincts: it’s off to the physical therapists tonight. Ugh! Another feature of life in the big city that I could do without.

Oh, well. This evening the hip HURTS with a vengeance. So that means I’ll be able to point the therapist right to the vicinity where it hurts. Then with that detail in mind, maybe they’ll be able to show me how to beat it back.

Very, very tired of hurting….

***

YIPE!  Cop copter just roared over. Goodie… 

Mercifully, he roared on up the way…by now is several miles distant. That, presumably, means the perp is not outside the back door.

Ruby the Corgi is in full loaf mode, which presumably signals that she doesn’t hear or sense anyone around. A dog, unfortunately, is not a 100% burglar alarm. But she’s better than the human, anyway. About 2/3 to 3/4 of the time, she’ll alert me if anything is up.

***

Ah! Here’s my Hero on the phone: calling to say he’s on his way over here to pick me up and tote me to the physical therapists.

Isn’t that nice! Really, there’s no way I could get there other than in a cab, if he weren’t hauling me around. <3

I do hurt too much to drive a car just now.

Uh oh… Here he is!!

 

 

So: the big desktop computer lets me in to Funny about Money! The laptop: not so much. Why? I have NO idea. Not much to say: this is more of a test post than anything else, just to see if the site will go online at all.

And so, a-w-a-a-y!

Saturday noon…and now I’ve got the plumber on his way over here.

The toilet in the master bathroom is totally clogged. The one in the center bathroom, which drains through the same system, is barely working.

Jayzuz! Another pile of obscene bills, galloping down the pike!!!

Just talked to their dispatcher: she says they’re on the way.

Goodie. I had nothin’ else today than fart with that. As it were….

My son is gonna yell at me, as he always does every time I call workmen. That will add a little more fun to the day.

Ahhhhh homeownership!

Y’know…I had the strangest nightmare last night. 

It concerned my long-gone relatives in Berkeley, California. They had a pretty little bungalow in the foothills, just the sweetest house you ever saw.

When my great grand-mother passed away, her daughter (who lived in that bungalow with her and had a high-test job with Crocker-Anglo National Bank) sold the house and moved to a nice apartment downtown. The Realtor who put the house on the market explored around and discovered that its basement was full of termites!

Apparently it had been, for some time

So after they killed off the livestock, they had to get carpenters in there to rebuild the beams and stuff in the basement and attic. WHAT a mess!!!!

So…last night’s motion-picture show brought that misadventure to Arizona. Lo! in that dream a workman climbed into the attic and found it swarming with termites.

This, you understand, is not an unlikely scenario here in Lovely Uptown Phoenix. We do have termites, too, and they have been known to excavate people’s houses. And in fact, this house has had its own visitations.

The place has been sprayed several times, attic included. Far as I can tell, termite spray doesn’t last long. Apparently you have to spray a couple times a year. And since I’m royally allergic to that stuff, I tend…well, NOT to do that.

So…boyoboy! Here we go again!

Bug guy will have to spend half the day or more climbing around spraying the attic, the roof, and everyplace else he can reach…thereby rendering the yard toxic for the dog.

And toxic for me: I’ll be sick for three or four days.

Once again I’ll have to sign on for regular bug spray, so the dog and I can get sick for several days every six months. Wheeee!

It’s the “sick” part that causes me to “forget” to call our guy or to sign onto a regular contract. I don’t happen to like to get sick from breathing the fukkin’ air. Nor am I fond of cleaning up the dog barf that happens when Ruby is exposed to the stuff. Or having to take her out for doggy-walks several times a day for a week or two, until the poisoned air clears out enough that she can navigate the yard safely.

Anyway: the crisis of the moment concerns running water, not poisoned air. We shall see what happens next….