NNDR not necessarily dog related. Like the category states these posts are rants, observations and sometimes opinions. Posts may not be appropriate for everyone. If they offend you I suggest you scroll on.
Perhaps I missed the fashion memo but I prefer to think I have been in denial. At first, I thought it was a fad but fads fade. When in hell, did it become fashionable to wear pajamas in public?
If you don’t know what I am talking about you have not been to Walmart lately. Well that is not really fair to Walmart. Yesterday, I saw just as many people in their PJ’s at my local grocery store as I do on any given day at the retail super giant.
In fact, I was at the post office at 3:00 in the afternoon when a woman burst in behind me in a lovely flannel ensemble.
Now, I have admitted to you freely, that I am a tad on the lazy side when it comes to certain things like walking my dog and drive through window pick ups, but I do get dressed in the morning.
Even when I take my trash out, I wouldn’t get caught dead in a baggy pair of sweats. I mean it is not like I dress to the nines to haul my Hefty’s to the curb, but I feel that at least a decent pair of jeans is required.
Ok, if I am having an exceptionally bad hair day, I might have a baseball cap on my head, but I am dressed.
I remember years ago, when I was a kid, my mother got railroaded into being a narrator for a play. In her role, the character appeared on stage in her night gown and cap. My mother was humiliated that the audience would see her in her sleepwear. Now, she would be considered over dressed for the part.
I personally would like to know how this super, casual trend got started. Some people blame students and say it first manifested in college cafeterias. Others blame the retail giant itself for creating a line of fleece and flannel that were just too good to be hidden under the bed covers.
I guess, the real question is, if you are wearing your pajamas in public, what in the heck are you wearing to bed? Maybe you have two sets; your good going out on the town, lounge wear and your ratty, just for sleeping nighty? Or perhaps you just wear the same outfit for the entire day? Less laundry right?
I have to say the real kicker for me, was when I saw a husband and wife team, dressed in their matching one piece footies, in the store today. No shoes, just the pajama footies. I can only imagine the undesirable organisms that attached themselves to the bottom of their soles as they traversed through the parking lot.
Nope, I guess I was just not born to be a trendy, fashion queen.
Scenario: in a car heading to breakfast. I am in the front seat. Mom is in the back. Mom: Do you have Comcast or Xfinity? Me: They are the same now Mom: What I can’t hear you – you always mumble Me: {louder} they are both the same now Mom: Oh. I have Xfinity. I used to have Comcast Me: I know, but they are the same now. Mom: When I first signed up it was Comcast Me: Yes, I know Mom: My bill says Xfinity now Me: Yes Mom: I hate them, they are expensive. How much is your bill? Me: I honestly don’t remember offhand, but mine is different from yours because you have a DVR and 2 high-definition TV boxes. We also got a new contract with them by adding a land line. Mom: I’m gonna call them. What is their number? Me: It is 1 800-comcast Mom: But they are Xfinity now Me: Oh, look we are at the restaurant
Part Two: 2 Days later by Phone
Mom: Hello is that you? Me: Yes it is me you called my cell phone Mom: Well I wasn’t sure if it was you who answered. Me: It’s me Mom: I have a problem Me: {thinking the worst} What’s wrong? Mom: My DVR doesn’t work anymore? Me: When did you last use it? Mom: I don’t remember but I am following the directions that YOU typed out and they don’t work anymore Me: Do you have your TV on Mom: Yes. It is playing a basketball game Me: What happens when you push the My DVR button Mom: On which remote? Me: {rolling my eyes} on the cable box remote Mom: Which one is that? Me: The one that says Xfinity Mom: Oh the Comcast one? Me: Yes, what happens when you push the button? Mom: Nothing it is a basketball game Me: Did you push the cable button first? Mom: No where is that? Me: At the top of the remote push it until it turns red Mom: On what remote Me: {with agitation in my voice} On the Comcast remote Mom: I have Xfinity Me: Ok, ok just push the cable button then the my DVR button and tell me what happens Mom: It flashed red Me: Did you get the DVR menu Mom: No Me: What is on the screen? Mom: A basketball game Me: OK let’s try something else. Can you press the guide button? Mom: Where is that? Me: On the same remote ½ way down on the left. It’s red Mom: I never use that button Me: Just press it and tell me what happens Mom: Nothing. Oh wait it changed to a commercial, now a guy is ironing his shirt I am not sure what he is selling though. Some of these commercials are so stupid. Me: {interrupting} OK, Ok, you didn’t mix up remotes right? Mom: No I wrote Living Room on this one so I would know. Whaatt? What’s that noise? Me: It is you. You hit speaker phone on your cell phone again? Mom: I hate this phone.
Me: Ok let’s try something. Go in the other room and see if My DVR works in there? Mom: I don’t have DVR in there Me: I know but just humor me {thinking maybe the service got changed somehow, stranger things have happened} Mom: Ok :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::waiting::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::waiting:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::waiting:::::::: Me: What are you doing? :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Are you there?::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::hello:::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::where they hell did she go, she is on a cell phone::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
So, I hang up and call her back
Mom: Hello? Me: Hi, it’s me. Where did you go? Mom: You told me to go in the other room Me: You are on a cell phone just take it with you Mom: OK but it doesn’t work. Let me read you what the screen says. DVR services are not enabled on this device. Please call 1 800……… Me: Ok,ok . Just go back to the other TV and take me with you this time. Mom: Ok I am back Me: Can you change the TV channels with that remote? Mom: Which remote? Me: aaaaarrrrggggghhhhh the COMCAST remote Mom: I have Xfinity ME: Oh dear god please give me strength. {gritting my teeth} On…..the…..Xfinity……remote…….can…….you…….change……the……tv……..channels? Mom: No Me: Then it has to be the batteries. Go change the batteries and I bet you will be fine. Mom: Your father said that an hour ago
I wrote this post several years ago for another blog that I hosted at the time. I thought it was appropriate to bring it back in honor of what would have been my mother’s 94th birthday this week. Happy, heavenly birthday Mom!
Ok, so yesterday I am standing in my driveway raking leaves. My favorite postman, I like to call him Dan. I don’t know what his real name is, but I call him Dan. Anyway, Dan drives into my driveway and then backs out and up to my mailbox. I know he saw me – we made eye contact.
Ok we really didn’t make eye contact because I have a very long driveway but there really wasn’t any way that he didn’t see me, standing there, raking leaves hello? Now, I didn’t expect him to hand deliver my mail just because he saw me there. That’s not his job – that’s why we have mailboxes. What made me mad is when I walked down to the mailbox there was a receipt for a registered letter. On it was written “Sorry, I missed you”.
Hello, you saw me standing there. You even went as far as to pull a little bit into the driveway. You couldn’t have driven all the way up to hand me my letter. Instead, now I have to go to the post office tomorrow to pick up the letter because it will sit in your jeep all day today.
Deep breaths…. let it go.
Today, my mailman, Dan, I just love calling him Dan. I don’t know his real name. I don’t know why I call him Dan. Maybe because it gives him a persona. Dan, Dan the mailman.
Today, Dan drove up the driveway. No, wait, I retract that, he backed up the driveway, he put the jeep in park, jumped out and tossed something which I assumed was my mail onto my porch. He was back in the jeep and barreling down the driveway in 30 seconds flat. I had to admire the fact that backing up the driveway made his getaway very smooth. That Dan is pretty stealth. I think he missed his calling.
I was feeling impressed. I went out to collect my mail and all that was out there was a small package. I thought it was a little strange that I had no other mail today. I mean I am LL Bean and Lands End’s wet dream for catalog deliveries. Sometimes, I get them addressed to my full name, an abbreviated version of my name, a misspelled version of my name and a couple addressed to the last three people that lived here, in this house, before me. In other words, I get mail every day.
On a hunch, I decided to check the mailbox and sure enough there was the rest of my mail. OK, Dan, the gauntlet has been thrown.
So guess what Dan, Danny, Dan the Man, my nemesis, I just signed up for Amazon Prime and next week I will start seeing you ever day until I max out my credit cards. Quoting the saying on my favorite cocktail napkin: I don’t like to call it revenge, “returning the favor” sounds much nicer.
I won’t say that my partner and I are dangerous or careless people but we have had 3 fires in in a little over a year. Although two did not require the fire department, if we hadn’t acted quickly, they all could have cost us our house. That being said we still managed to find humor in it all.
The first fire was last Super Bowl Sunday. We had lit a fire in our two sided fireplace and it just wasn’t staying lit. We had been joking about just letting it go out but finally around 3 pm it started to take off pretty well. While I made us a few pre-superbowl cocktails she threw another log on and went to start the appetizers. Laughing, from the kitchen, she yelled to me “now that’s a fire”! And indeed it was. Within seconds the fire seemed to explode. I hear the telltale noise of a freight train barreling through the chimney. Oh shit, this can’t be really happening I thought. I grabbed the dogs and ran outside to see flames shooting out the chimney.
While I called 911, my partner ran back into the house to save the important things, her plane tickets for a business trip the next day, our wallets and my ipad. Since, I was calling from a cell phone my call had to be routed to the appropriate fire station. I couldn’t get it through my head why the dispatcher couldn’t just GPS me so I patiently gave out our address and then was transferred to my local station. Fortunately for us the fire chief just happened to be at a Super Bowl party right down the street. He was the first to arrive.
Again, good fortune prevailed, because something flew up the chimney and choked off the rest of the fire. When the entire deployment of the fire department arrived. the fire box was still engulfed but there were no longer flames shooting out over the roof. Whew!
The team did a great job putting down asbestos mats and spraying down the firebox. They checked the walls, the attic and the roof for errant embers but luckily all was clear. All in all it was a good 3 hours before they felt comfortable leaving us. I can honestly say I don’t remember too much about the game or even who won.
My partner left the next day for her business trip and I went out and bought a fire extinguisher. Good thing!
Later that summer we had been having some problems with our water cooler. I love those things, hot water on one side and nice, cold water on the other. We bought 5 gallon bottles 3 or 4 at a time at BJ’s. But every once in a while, I would come downstairs, in the morning, to a puddle of water on the floor and an empty jug on the cooler. I returned several bottles to BJ’s thinking they were leaking. Later we found out that a gasket inside the cooler had become damaged so we replaced it.
Now I am not sure if that had anything to do with what happened next or not. I was merely changing out an empty jug for a full one when I noticed flames shooting out of the back of the cooler and starting up the wall. Let’s just say that fire extinguisher came in real handy.
The water cooler now resides at the dump and I went out and bought a second fire extinguisher. Good thing.
We are the type of people who grill all year long. No matter how cold or how wet the weather is, food just tastes better when grilled outside. As a treat for ourselves we purchased a big two sided grill. Charcoal on one side and propane on the other. It also had an attachment for a smoker. Notice how I used the word “had”.
It wasn’t my favorite grill. Perhaps it sensed that. Around the same time we purchased the grill we found this awesome butcher shop. Nice thick steaks. Juicy pork chops. It was the juicy that did us in. We had thrown 2 bone in chops out on the grill. There were a few little flair ups so we knew it was time to clean the grates up. But it honestly hadn’t been that long since the last cleaning. Because we use them all year long, we maintain our grills by vacuuming out the old ashes and scouring the grates.
As I said, those chops were thick and juicy. My partner went out and flipped them. They had about 5 more minutes to go. It was a cold night so I sat back in my recliner with a nice tumbler of bourbon. Not purposefully, but my recliner just happens to be positioned so I can overlook the deck. The inferno overtook my gas grill in a heartbeat. We both rushed outside, me with my short little red friend in my hands. The chops could not be saved and the tank was a ticking bomb. My little, red friend went to work.
I have yet to buy another gas grill. Nor have I purchased big juicy pork chops again. I have, however, purchased a six pack of ALL Purpose Fire Extinguishers.
I have a love-hate relationship with my postal carrier.
I have tried to be nice to him. I always lock the dogs up when he has to come to the door to have something signed. Perhaps I take too long to get them restrained. Maybe he hates me because I accidently kept his pen once.
You may think I am exaggerating, but I have proof.
It is bad enough that he keeps my IRS return receipt letter in his truck and instead puts a “sorry I missed you” note in my box.
Hello, I work from home 99% of the time I am here. Just drive up the damn driveway and check.
At first, he was cordial to me. He tolerated my presence in the neighborhood. But then I did the unthinkable. I became an online Christmas shopper. I ordered gifts for everyone online. It was sooo easy. For me.
I don’t think Dan the postman was impressed. At first, he would drive up the driveway and deposit my finds on my doorstep. Later he would just dump them out, while at the same time banging a one handed U-y. in front of the garage. One day I swear he had his father with him, tossing the packages out the side window.
But I think the real gauntlet was thrown when I started shipping products from my home office. He now had to pick up my packages and store them in his jeep until he got back to the PO. There weren’t that many packages, what else could he possibly have in that jeep besides…. Perhaps… his dad?
I don’t think having to pick up the packages is what pushed him over the edge. I think it was when I started order postal supplies. Free envelopes, boxes, shipping tape and labels delivered to my door or so I thought.
The first shipment arrived fine. The second shipment was so badly mangled that I couldn’t use several of the boxes. The third shipment I swear he threw out the window then ran it over twice. I couldn’t use any of the boxes or envelopes. The fourth shipment never arrived. The fifth shipment I found mysteriously in the woods beside my house, wet and soggy.
Last week, I ordered a couple of Ipad pillows. They were the plush kind that you use in bed or on a plane. I received a shipping notice that they had been deposited at my front door. I kept checking but they never arrived.
It was a miserable freezing rain kind of day. The wind was whipping and the rain came down in torrents at times. I had to run an errand, so on a whim I decided to check the mailbox. Sure enough he had stuffed the pillows half in and half out of the box. The plastic shipping container had been ripped open and because the door to the mailbox was propped open the rest of the mail was saturated.
Although I was pissed, I did not bother reporting him. I have met the Post Master General and he is no prize either.
I decided to take the passive aggressive route. I order supplies once a week whether I need them or not. I use the ones he mangles in my wood stove.
Today, however I made a fascinating find. I now know what dedicated Dan does that takes him so long to deliver the mail.
He is a redeemer.
No he isn’t some special biblical figure …. he collects deposit bottles.
Yup, today I came around the corner just in time to see him zone in on some bottles by the side of the road. He banged one of his infamous U-ies, jumped out of the jeep and snagged the bottles.
Ka-Ching, an extra ten cents earned.
I now know how to get him to deliver my stuff to my door. I plan on leaving my recycle bin out front with a few returnables very visible on the top.
In my efforts to try to beat the heat I took myself to my preferred coffee franchise to indulge in my favorite summer beverage, ice coffee. Now I ask you, how hard is it to make an ice coffee? You really do not need an advanced degree – no rocket science technology involved here. It’s just ice, coffee and cream.
That is where the fallout happens – the addition of the accessory “cream”.
I would blame it on the holiday weekend. Perhaps not the regular staff? Perhaps the interns were left on their own? But alas that is not the case. You see I have been trying for ages – pre-summer warm up to figure out how to get the coffee baristas to serve it my way for the months ahead.
I am really not that difficult of a person. I don’t think that I am asking for too much just to want to taste the coffee and not be served a 16 oz cup of cream with a hint of coffee flavor.
Now, in case you think I am being a beast and just whining for the hell of it, here are a few examples of my interactions with the omnipotent servers of the infamous chain that has double “D”’s in its name.
My first attempt was at a drive-thru window when I asked for a medium ice coffee cream only. The entity in the box asks: is that going to be it. Yes I replied and can you go light on the cream. Silence then static from the box then uhm, we don’t serve light cream. Me: no, I know you don’t have light cream but can you just go light on the cream in the coffee? Silence then static from the box then uhm I’ll check. Me: You will check what? The box:….. if we can make a light cream. Me: I don’t want you to MAKE anything I just want you to put a little less cream in the coffee than you normally would. The box: static… silence… then… it is pre-measure ma’am.
Me: Ok but can’t you put a little less in
Box: static….I am sorry I didn’t understand
Me: Can you just go a little lighter on the cream
Box: Ma’am we don’t sell light cream
Me: Clearly we have established that….
Box: what I didn’t get that?
Me: Can….You….Put….Less….Cream….In….The…..Cup?
Box: It is pre-measured ma’am Me: You know what just… give… me… the… coffee. The box: static ….. what would you like in it ma’am? Me: aaaaarrrgggg…. just cream. The box: That we can do. Drive up to the window please.
My second attempt.
I am lazy. I admit it. If I can do a drive through window I prefer it. I mean all that effort to walk to the door and up to the counter. Then pick up my own straw and napkin. Then walk back to my car. It is tiring. But the gauntlet had been thrown. The entity in the box seemed to have an extremely difficult time getting my order right. I felt that if I could look someone directly in the eye there was hope. Also, I try a different “double D”. The eager young woman took my order for a medium ice coffee with cream. She takes my money. She grabs the cup from the dispenser and checks off cream on the side. I’m sorry, I say but is that a medium? Quite assure of herself, she answers “yes this is the medium size”. Ok, I say I guess something changed because that looks like a small used to? The manager who just happens to be walking by says is there a problem. I say no I just didn’t realize that the sizes had changed (since yesterday). Confused she says that’s the small. I say but I ordered a medium. Ooops, says the girl that took my order and quickly grabs a medium size cup.
Now, being the opportunist that I am and since I had the manager’s attention too, I said and could you please go light on the cream? Manager: we do not have light cream. Me: I know that, I just want a little less cream than you would normally put in. Manager: It’s pre-measured. Me: Sigh. Never mind.
As I am leaving I hear the girl say “wow , this is hard”. Manager: Yeah, you’re going to have difficult customers like that. You just have to get used to it.
On my third attempt. I decided to take the friendly conspirators approach. I saunter up to the counter order my ice coffee with cream and say “ is there anyway that I could get a little less cream than you would normally put in. I mean I know it is pre-measured and all but is there any way I could get say ½ of what you normally do? I’d REALLY appreciate it. Please. Thank you.
The very nice and attentive young woman says no problem we usually put in 3 pumps so how about just 1 1/2 pumps? I reply that that would be wonderful and thank her profusely. I watch her write on the cup cream 1 ½. The cup was then passed to the coffee executor for the finalized product while I moved to the pick-up counter. As I am waiting I watch the cream being added 1…2….3… pumps and then an attempt at a ½ pump. It seems that somehow 1 ½ was translated into 1 cream at the normal 3 pumps and then half of 3 would be an additional 1 and 1/2 pumps. I guess I should give credit where credit is due, she was able to divide 3 by 2 in her head. But alas, now my coffee has 4 and 1/2 shots of cream. I have lost all hope.
Epilogue: Nowadays I skip the “double D” and go to my grocery store, buy a pint of International Delights coffee flavored creamer, pour it over some ice and call it good!
Today is the first day it feels like spring. If I didn’t know from the date, I sure would know from my dog’s behavior.
I woke up to her standing on my head demanding that I get up and start the day. Did I not hear the birds? Did I not smell the grass growing, the snow melting, the pollen and the mold spores?
“What is wrong with you humans? Your lack of adventure is appalling”.
So, I drag my butt out of bed and let her and her brother take care of their morning constitutions. I feed them and let them out for a second romp, while I brew a pot of coffee and brush my teeth.
In the ten minutes that these paltry chores took me, she has not only done 5 laps around the yard, but she is now using the pool cover as a trampoline. I sigh, thanking god that I spent the extra money and bought the cover strong enough to hold a horse.
I pour myself a large mug. It is going to be that kind of day.
Wait, what is that green thing she has in her mouth? I step out on to the deck to find that she has dug up the housing to the sprinkler system. By the time I inspect the damage to the wiring, the green plastic cover has been deposited in the middle of the pool cover. She has moved on.
Crap, I am going to need the pool rake to get that back.
I step back inside to warm up my coffee and grab a muffin. As I pass by the window, I see that she now has something gray hanging from her mouth.
Oh, please, oh please, don’t let it be the deck carpet.
It was. She has a 1 foot hole ripped smack dab in the middle. There will be no way to hide that this summer.
Apparently, she got the whiff of ‘au du rodent’ and it was her explicit duty to uncover its nest.
As I bring her inside, I notice the bird feeder is empty. Again. You could at least earn your keep, by chasing the squirrels away, I tell her. I will fill it after my shower.
Just as I am stepping out of the shower, the bathroom door pops open. In walks my older dog with his head down and what can only be deemed as a sad expression on his face.
I can only imagine what I will find when I go downstairs. I know it is not going to be pretty.
