Saturday, December 25, 2010
A few years ago, my husband and I bought our three kids identical, really nice (read expensive) stocking gifts. Since it was a few months before Christmas, I hid them away. (Can you hear the punchline coming?) I hid them so well, I haven't been able to find the gifts since. My only hope is that someday, when they're found, they will be worth a lot more than the original cost.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
My poor old dad was selected for jury duty.
I should say, my poor DEAD dad was selected for jury duty -- nearly a year after he died.
Um... I'm sure we're no longer getting his social security checks. I find it a bitter-sweet thing to laugh about with all sorts of images flying through my mind. Dad died on Christmas Eve day last year.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
(Although this title sounds like a Native American family, it's not.)
A couple years ago people built a house diagonally across from us. The neighborhood scuttlebutt was that there were over 200 electrical code failures to be fixed before they moved in. With that gossip in the reaches of my mind, when I saw the smoke pouring out of their basement window, I panicked. I threw on my winter coat and boots, not caring that I hadn't showered or brushed my teeth, nor even met our new neighbors yet. I ran-flailed-slid across the ice and snow to quickly get to their house. We'd moved to Michigan from Western South Dakota, where forest fires (and smoke) were very common. The Michigan habit of burning leaves in the Fall still makes me nervous. So I slip up to new neighbor's door, ring the doorbell and pound away, not caring that it's only 7:30 in the morning. Their house was on fire! Their brand new, multi-code-failured house. The door tentatively opened.
"Your basement's on fire! There's smoke pouring from the window!!!" Notice I didn't even take the time to introduce myself.
"Which window?" (I told them.) "Um... we're doing laundry. That's probably from our dryer."
Colors flashed before the backs of my eyelids in memory recall: Black smoke -- carbon or tire or oil burns; Yellow-Brown smoke -- the Black Hills are burning; White smoke -- cigarettes, or car exhaust on a cold day, or breath on a cold day... or heat from a dryer... on a cold day.
"Um. Hi. I'm your new (crazy) neighbor. Welcome to the neighborhood." (Notice I still didn't introduce myself, hoping that they would forget the entire incident. I slid home and buried my head under a blanket for an hour, trying to forget it happened, too.)
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Driving through Plainwell, Michigan, last week, my husband and I noticed a car with the advertising on it: "Angel Pest Control."
My husband and I laughed as he elaborated: "I bet they're very busy this time of year. Those angels can get rather pesty around now."