It is spring here in Happy Valley. We have more than mice, wasps and bears. This robin’s nest is on the railing of our front deck. They hatched this morning and it now seems to be dinner time.
Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
Wasps and Bears and Birds Oh My
Posted in Lifes Observations, Uncategorized, tagged Bears, Birds, country, Mouse Poop, Wasps on June 3, 2013| 1 Comment »
What Doesn’t Kill Me…
Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged age, getting older, Pain, pizza, salt, socks on May 31, 2013| 8 Comments »
So I’m getting older. Yeah I know, what are the alternatives? In my head I don’t feel old but my body tells a different tale.
Sure I identify with those posts of Facebook. Yes I was born before we had home computers. I remember Television without a remote. I grew up in a world without a phone attached to my hip. And if you wanted HD you looked out the window.
But none of that is what I’m talking about.
I’m talking about struggling to finish one Big Mac meal never mind chowing down two like I did in the olden days back when a Big Mac was actually big. And what is with salt all of the sudden? Are they making it stronger? If I eat a Pizza I’m up half the night guzzling water and the other half is spent peeing. I used to order whatever I wanted and the more the better, now if the picture on the menu looks like it has too much food I order something else.
Back in the day I was captain of the relay team many years in a row. Now I don’t run. Run? Who am I kidding I don’t even bend. Two weeks ago I threw my back out removing clothes from the dryer.
At work we have bakers racks where we put equipment. There are four sometimes five shelves to a rack. I’ve never put anything on the bottom two shelves lately even that third has become daunting.
Socks! Don’t even get me started. It is not the socks so much as the feet. I’ve never been a huge fan of feet. But who in their right mind put them so far out of reach of my hands? I need a nap after putting on my socks.
And what happened to all the actors and actresses? Growing up all the stars were older than me and I could look up to them. Now all of them are so young, exactly when did the scale tip? But as young as they are, that doesn’t bother me nearly as much as Doctors. Doctors are supposed to be older more experienced wiser people. I really don’t like Doogie Howser telling me how I should live my life. (Google it)
I remember my father who used too, (still may) lie down after a shower while he was still wet. He would tell my mother, “I’m drying” Dad, I understand. I really do. I’ll stay in the shower a little longer to delay the drying process.
There are advantages. Sex for example is wonderful, especially the one in the winter.
I’m 47.
Ahh Karma, Where Art Thou? Oh, There You Be.
Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged Karma, Movies, Rude, Theatre on May 27, 2013| 2 Comments »
We went to see the latest Star Trek movie.
We like to sit in the very last row of the theatre. We were the first to arrive and we took our usual seats. We watched as a family of five walked in and sat directly in front of us. Really? There was nobody else in the theatre! They could not sit at least one row in front of us. When dad and teenage daughter leaned back the back if his chair was touching my knees. My wife commented on how rude they were and we got up and re-located a few seats down.
The theatre never filled up.
As the end credits started to roll the five of them left. A few minutes later the two adults came back and were looking on the floor and between the seats, obviously they lost something. We also saw the kids looking threw the trash.
karma is such a wonderful bitch.
And Then Came the Wasps
Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged Bears, funny, Wasps on May 24, 2013| 3 Comments »
In my last sermon to you we discussed bears. But this week has proved that there are worse beasts out there than the bears. There are wasps. Not the regular run of the mill outdoor wasps. No, we are talking about the dreaded indoor wasps. That’s right we have indoor wasps. The first one I found buzzing around the window. No problem probably followed us through the door when we got home. I trapped him with a paper towel and set him free. The second wasp? eh, he too may have entered when the door was open. He was a little more aggressive and I had to catch him with a cup and show him the door.
The third. well I was watching the television when I heard my wife, whom we know runs yelling barefoot at agitated bears, screaming like a little girl “A Wasp, Another Wasp!” I thought for sure she had been stung to elicit such a response. But no, she was not wearing her contacts and she picked up what she thought was some cat food off the counter but it turned out to be a fuzzy buzzing wasp. Both woman and wasp survived the ordeal. But I started to get the inkling that we had a problem.
The next few wasps were found in our bedroom. At least they are easy to find. Just watch the cats when they start leaping at the walls and ceiling we pretty much know Where to find the wasps. So far nobody has been stung and no wasps have met their end. We have determined that they must be coming from the light fixture in our bathroom.
At least we know what my next project will bee.
Country Living is the Place for Me
Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged Bears, dogs, forest, Mice on May 19, 2013| 4 Comments »
Think you have trouble with mice? We have black bears. Years ago my wife heard the neighbors dog barking in his yard. Max was not much of a barker, but when he did that baritone voice of his rattled windows and shook the doors
My wife looked outside and there was Max on one side of his chain link fence arguing with the bear on the other side. The fence in question is waist high, not exactly an obstacle for dog or bear. Both were posturing waiting for the other to make the first move.
My wife ran outside yelling at the bear. While black bears are not particularly nice, they will back away from people if given the chance. But can we count on that? Do we know what the bear thinks? Max was facing a fight he could not win and my wife was not about to let that happen. So there my wife went out the door, in bare feet, hands waving in the air yelling at the top of her lungs at an already agitated bear. When I heard the story I knew I would put my money on my wife and it appears so would the bear. With an arrogant huff the bear slowly meandered back into the woods.
There was also the bear who raided our bird feeders. We have a cast iron shepherds hook that holds the feeders. Rather than stand up and take the food this lazy bear bent the Shepherds hook in half. I was able to bend it back with an industrial clamp and a lot of cursing. The really annoying part came later when I ventured to the top of the driveway and saw our garbage strewn across the street. Along with the garbage of several neighbors. That was a fun time.
Then there was the time I was washing dishes and glanced out the window only to see a large bear wandering in our yard with two cubs in tow. My wife looked out but couldn’t see the bear. “No, not near the woods, right here under the window” The look on her face was priceless when she looked down and there was the bear looking up at her.
One evening last fall I stepped onto our front porch to find a little bear running up and down tree trunks. We watched him for a while then we heard something much larger rustling in the leaves just behind the garage. With the reminder that momma bear wasn’t far behind we retired back into the house letting the bears do whatever it is bears do.
A few weeks ago I was taking the dog for her final walk of the evening, we got all the way to the end of the porch when we came face to face with the largest bear I’ve yet to come across. We all took a good long look at each other before slowly backing away. The bear headed off into the woods the dog and I slipped back into the house where I told my wife that we were going to hold off on our walk for a little while to give the gigantic bear a few moments to leave the area. At that moment she got a text from our neighbor trying to warn us about the very large bear that just walked through their fence and was heading our way.
And just in case you are wondering we also have mice.
My Beautiful Ghost
Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged cats, ghosts, halloween, Haunted on May 12, 2013| 3 Comments »
June 27th 2011 I wrote a post ‘Do You Believe’ it was my first stab at partial fiction and it created quite a bit of chatter on line, in email and at work. The ghost was the only part I made up. I don’t believe in ghosts, or didn’t. Now I am not so sure. Yes, I had an experience.
A few halloweens ago we purchased two chandeliers one of which hangs in our living room year round.
A few weeks after Katiebug, one of our cats whom had to be put down due to cancer, my wife and I were watching TV I happen to glance at the chandelier, it was slowly rocking but only slightly like it was about to stop. At first I thought maybe I bumped it when I sat down because that does happen but the chandelier just would not quit. The heavy drapes were covering the window there was no breeze. I sat perfectly still feeling for any vibrations, there were none, yet the chandelier kept it’s slow steady pace. I looked at the clock and decided I would not look at the chandelier for five minutes, it had already been ten. When the five minutes finally passed I looked up and the chandelier was still rocking steady like a metronome.
Very quietly I said to my wife, “I think we have a ghost” I got the strangest look in return. My wife is a believer but she knows I am not. I pointed at the chandelier. “It will stop in a moment” she said. “you probably bumped it and didn’t realize it” her words echoed my thoughts. “No” I said it has been doing that for at least fifteen minutes. We both fell silent but I watched my wife out of the corner of my eye and she continued to glance at the swinging chandelier. She seemed to be willing it to stop. After a few moments she says, “We acknowledge and accept that you are here” Still the chandelier kept on swinging. I waited a little while longer but eventually I had to physically stop the chandelier. I freely admit that I had hoped that once I sat down it would start swinging again, it didn’t and it still hasn’t to this day, but I still watch and hope.
My beautiful ghost.
Common decency
Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged magic, McDonalds, military, old ladies, small towns on May 8, 2013| 7 Comments »
Philipsburg, including Philipsburg North, South and a little place called Chester Hill boasts a combined population of 4,800 people. If we don’t want to make the run into State College for groceries our only practical option is Philipsburg. This was one of those Sundays, we even splurged and went to McDonalds for breakfast.
We ordered our scrumptious meal, my wife grabbed the drinks and found a seat while I waited for the rest of the food. It was a busy morning at McDonalds, the pimply kid asking if we want fries with that seemed overwhelmed and who could blame him? There had to be at least four other people in line. I got the food and headed over to the table my wife had found. There was a gentleman seated at the table next to us that I had never met before but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a magician. No he wasn’t holding a bunny or wearing a top hat. He wasn’t practicing a magic trick. To the untrained eye there were absolutely no outward signs that he was a magician. I just knew. Four thousand eight hundred people, the odds of one being a magician are little to none. Is there nowhere I can hide? My wife, of course, unknowing his magic habit had already struck up a conversation with him. My wife talks to all the strays.
As I took my seat my wife says, “Brian look at the cool case he has for his ipad, isn’t that neat?” To which I add, “Not only that, he is a magician!” The look he gave me was nothing short of comical, for a moment I thought he was going to choke on his meal.
In about two minutes the conversation turned to a magic pissing match. He started telling me about all the magicians he knows. About all the tricks he does and how he made improvements. These types of conversations never fail to amuse me. And I usually don’t engage. I nod, I smile, add a few words here and there. Why must it always be a competition? When plumbers meet do they compare tools? Brag about how fast they can remove a valve?
But I’m not writing to tell you about Philipsburg or magic pissing contests. No I’m here to tell you what happened when the Military showed up.
There we sat eating our McBreakfast happily discussing the merits of magnets vs invisible thread in the world of magic when all of the sudden from behind the counter we hear the staff yelling at each other, “We got a bus! We got a bus! Start prepping the food. Do we have enough hashbrowns!” I looked up and sure enough across the way a bus had pulled up the door opened and out stepped a soldier complete with clipboard and camo-fatigues followed by a whole lot of other people who looked exactly like him, and yes, they were heading our way. The shouts from behind the counter still ring in my ears, “Oh My God they are military, do we give them anything free? Do we have enough food?”
The restaurant quickly filled up I could no longer see the counter all I could see was a wall of men and all I could think about was that the camo-gear was a huge fail as I could see them all quite clearly. I heard one soldier at the end of line line quietly say, ‘guys, hold up a minute’ and with that they all took a step back in order to let two old ladies dressed in their Sunday finest to move to the front of the line. And that is what I’m writing about. Good manners, common decency and class.
November Comes A Cryin’ Part Two
Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged hotdog, husky, Laundry room, stepstool, work on November 24, 2012| 2 Comments »
What does a bent hotdog skewer, a folding step ladder, a husky and laundry room have in common? Read on, read on.
Once a month on a specific Wednesday I have to be at work a little earlier than usual and this was one of those Wednesdays. As I stepped out of the shower I hear a clap of thunder. No surprise every time I have to do some traveling for work it manages to rain. But it wasn’t thunder my wife who just had knee surgery calls out that something must have fallen in the kitchen. ‘Okay I’ll get dry and have a look” My wife thinks it may be that her mother has fallen so she hobbles out of bed and out of the room in search of the disaster that awaits outside our door. As I’m exiting the bathroom my wife hobbles back in the room and informs me that there is nothing going on out there but the dog is whining in the laundry room, but she was just in too much pain to check on her properly not to mention that the dog always whines at this time in the morning.
I get dressed and head out to check on the dog. I can’t open the laundry/dog room door. Sometimes the dog sleeps in front of the door so a little extra shove is needed but this was not to be the case because I hear her prancing around. I turn the knob and give a harder shove. The door remains closed. I drop to the floor and by ‘drop’ I mean slowly lower my achy 47 yr old body to the floor and get my eye on the ground and peer underneath. At first I see nothing but some dog paws the ground is clear from the door to the washing machine. Then I notice a metal bar along the edge of the bottom of the washing machine. We have a folding stepstool behind the door, that metal bar is the base of the frame of the stepstool. The G*d D****d M****r F***ing step stool is wedged between the bottom of the washer and about a foot up from the bottom of the door!
I let Denyce know the situation and I head to the garage to find something to slide under the door so I can move the step stool. I found a piece of wood and a hotdog skewer, the kind used to roast a hotdog over a fire. Sliding the piece of wood under the door did no good, the bottom end of the stool was jammed under the washer, I was pushing so hard on my end of the wood that I was sliding along the linoleum floor, but that stool was not moving. The hotdog skewer proved to be of less help. My last option was the window.
As I was heading out the door to get the ladder my wife reminded me to bring my knife to cut the screen. I maneuvered the ladder up the embankment and against the window frame. I was very excited to see that the storm window was part way up. I cut the screen and pushed the storm window all the way up. The inside window was firmly locked in place. But it was one of those locks that have been around since the dawn of time, surly I could think my way around this lock. I pressed against the window and there was plenty of wiggle room, I could slide something between the upper and lower frames and wiggle the mechanism out of the catch. And I had the perfect tool! A carpet knife is a really thin blade with a hook on the end. I figure I can hook the edge of the lock and work it backwards. No problem and I still had time to get to work ahead of time. I slide my knife between the frames and guess what? No go. It seems somebody had thought of this before me. It appears the way this stupid window was built was to keep people out once it is locked! Can you imagine that? The frame is offset where they meet so you can’t slide an object between the two! My last option is to break the window. Standing on the ladder I look carefully at exactly what I have to do because now it is about to get serious. I take inventory. I need a hammer, gloves, eye protection. I’m going to break the window slide my hand inside open the lock and open the window. From there I’ll crawl on top of the dryer and voila! I go over it in my head once again before heading down the ladder. Is there another way? I don’t want to break the window. I’m missing something, I take another look at the window and with a humbling view I do a self assessment of myself. I’m no longer the scrawny 12 yr old that could wiggle through this window. I could get my head and shoulders through the window and then I would reach a sudden unpleasant and humiliating stop. Now What?
I could still break the window and try to entice my 12 year old 60 pound husky to jump on the dryer and wiggle out the window and then we would be both be balanced atop a precarious ladder, nope, not going to happen.
Entering the house my wife informs me that even if I break the window, she doesn’t think I would fit through, yeah already thought that one through, thanks.
I sit on the floor listening to my husky loudly complaining on the other side of the door. My wife asks if I knew the non emergency 911 number. She calls and talks to the dispatcher who is going to call the fire chief and have him call us back. Did I mention that my wife and I belong to a C.A.R.T (County Animal Response Team) team? Yeah and we can’t even get our dog out of the laundry room. And not only am I going to have to call my boss and tell him I’m going to be a little late, I’ve got to call and tell him I’m not going to be in at all. And then I’ll have to tell him why. But I still have time…
While waiting for the call from the fire chief I go back to playing with my hotdog skewer under the door. My wife suggests that I bend the hotdog skewer at a 90 degree angle. I bite my tongue at the first thought, and the second. Not sure what good it will do I go ahead and make the bend, I have no better idea and my wife is usually right about such things. I slide the skewer back under the door and wiggle it around. Perhaps it will give me more leverage. Perhaps I can grip the edge of the step stool between the forks and wiggle it out of the way. Nothing, then a light clicks on in my head. With the skewer bent I can use it like a lever, from there with a little swearing and patience I manage to maneuver the skewer into position and push down on my end. The step ladder moved just a fraction but it moved. I pressed against the door and it opened just enough for me to see the dogs nose. Still pressing down on my side of the skewer my wife shoved the door a little bit more. Together we freed the dog! Reaching around I pull out the offending step stool. With a sigh of relief my wife calls back the 911 dispatcher who cancels the call
In seconds my wife and I are in action. I clean the dog pee off the laundry room floor. Five minutes later we are in the car heading for work. While I’m not going to be early, I’m going to be okay I can still do what I need to do providing there are no more delays. Everything is moving nicely. I’m calculating my time. While I am going to be late it will only be by a few minutes. I can call the guys and ask them to wait another 15 minutes for me it won’t delay their day that much, life just got a lot better.
Turning off the exit to drop my wife off at her work we run smack dab into rush hour traffic. Bottleneck, dead stop! I call my boss. I have a wonderful boss and he tells me not to worry, just do what I can. Of course he doesn’t know the whole story just that I’m held up in traffic. Later in the day I would fill him in.
Finally I’m at work about half an hour late, I hop in the work van and make the 40 minute trek to Lewistown where they guys are waiting for me. Of course I owed it to them to tell the whole story, in four part harmony. They laughed and one wondered why I just didn’t take the opportunity to cut out a doggy door?
November Comes A Cryin’ Part 1
Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged doctors, hospitals, Knees, surgery, waiting rooms on November 19, 2012| 2 Comments »
On November 8th my wife had arthroscopic surgery on her right knee. She tore her meniscus and the surgeon had to remove a third of it, there was some damage done to the ligament so he tweaked that and cleaned up some bone spurs.
The morning of the 8th we set our alarm clock to wake us at the unruly hour of 4:30am as we had to be at the surgical centre by 6:30. Yes it takes that long to get ready. The dog needs to go out, the cats need fed and each one needs watched so they don’t steal the food from another.
We got to the surgical centre on time we checked in sat down and just as we were seated our name was called and we were ushered through the doors where only authorized personnel are allowed to enter. After negotiating a maze of hallways we were brought to Denyce’s prep room. She was settled into the bed as they handed me her purse, her walker and showed me a little wooden chair in a corner where I was too sit.
At one point I counted 7 people in the room not including Denyce and myself. And by room I mean cubicle. There was the surgeon who autographed Denyce’s knee to make sure he got the correct one, there was the anesthesiologist and his assistant, three nurses and some guy just standing at the ‘doorway’ and by doorway I mean curtain. They asked all sorts of questions to Denyce and to each other. Nobody waited for an answer, a nurse asked Denyce a question and at the same time the anesthesiologist told her to open her mouth, so he could take a look inside. It was a whirlwind of chaos. Then I heard the magic words, “Denyce I ‘m going to give you a shot that will allow you to relax.”
Oh how I remember those words from my own surgeries. Immediately I was off my little chair and beside the bed, I took my wife’s hand and told her, “Now comes the easy part, all you have to do is sleep and I’ll see you in about 10 minutes your time.” And with that they wheeled her down the corridor. A nurse showed me the way to the waiting room and told me somebody would be out to keep me up to date in about 40 minutes to an hour, I figured it would be more like two hours.
I took note of the time and sat down on the group W bench. The group W bench is the bench where you wait, and you wait. And. You. Wait…
At the ripe old age of 47 I was the youngest person in that waiting room. I found out it was really cataract surgery day. Really old people would scooch their way in bumping and grinding into things as they pushed the walkers along with the entire weight of their frail bodies bearing down on the handles. Walking behind them, trying to reach around to open doors and clear the isles an elderly child (mid 50’s minimum) would try to be of some assistance but usually only making matters worse. After watching several such episodes I realized the waiting room was designed to torture these poor people. They would be forced to amble up to one of the check in desks and have a seat. The old people would drop their bags move the walker out of the way, grab the chair and slowly, painfully take a seat. They would be asked their name, date of birth and then asked to sign a waiver they could not possibly see. Three minutes later they would be asked to move to the waiting area. The walker would have to be set up just so. They would gather their belongings and with the aid of a walker, ‘child’and chair combo they would stand. An exercise that took longer than the check in process itself. They would shuffle over to the waiting area, find a free group W bench and drop their bags, coats and other items of necessity, slowly and painfully they would lower themselves onto the bench. They would let out a sigh lean back and in a minute a nurse would appear at the door that only authorized people are allowed to pass and call their name. The looks on some of the faces were priceless, others were just plain scary. They would start the process of gathering all their worldly possessions and haul themselves back into a standing position while the ‘child’ would do what they could to help. They would step towards the door and the nurse would say to the child, “oh for now we are just putting drops in the eyes we will send your mom/dad right back out you can wait here with all the stuff”. They did this each time! A few minutes later out from behind the door that only authorized personnel are allowed to pass would come an old and now blind(er) person who would have to maneuver back to their group W bench where their loved one could only hopelessly watch. We would all watch in horror as the process played itself out over and over again. Eventually the name would be called again, and once again we would watch as they made their way through the doors only this time we would not see them again. In time a nurse would come back and find the waiting ‘child’ and let them know the surgery went well and the nurse would bring the ‘child’ back behind the doors that only authorized personnel were allowed to pass and I knew they were done. I would not be seeing them again. I must have watched a thousand years of experience hobble through that door. I watched as the waiting room kept changing, I alone waited and waited as others came and went. At the hour and a half point I started to watch the door waiting for the nurse to call my name and tell me all was well and I could go see my wife.
Two hours later the surgeon come through a different set of doors. Through these doors not only are only authorize people allowed to pass. But phones are not allowed nor recording devices. He beckons me over I gather the walker and my wife’s purse. He tells me to leave them he just needs me for a moment. I admit to a little panic. Nobody else had the surgeon come out. Nobody else was told to leave their stuff. Nobody else went through THAT door! He told me everything went well and Denyce was fine. She was in recovery. He started talking very fast, telling me what he did, what he expected, and all the aftercare instructions. He did this all in a very static rapid fire style. No way could I hope to retain any of it, I didn’t even try. I knew my wife was fine and that was all that mattered. I was sent back to my group W bench and I waited another 40 minutes before a nurse came through the normal doors that only authorized personnel are allowed to pass. She told me to bring my stuff, so I gathered my purse and walker and was brought to my groggy and slightly cranky wife. We sat, we talked, we listened to the nurse as she told us what to do and how to do it and what to expect. Eventually Denyce asked me the time. I told her it was noon. We had been there almost five hours. Denyce looked at me like I was insane and told me the last thing she remembered was a nurse telling her she was being given a shot so she could relax.
Yup It’s a Renfaire
Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged dragons, entertainment., gaming, music, Nerds, Pa, pa renaissance fair, Renfaire, Swords on October 10, 2012| 3 Comments »
We try to go to the Pa Renaissance fair every year or at least every other year. I won’t get into all the details because you can check them out here. There are many shows to watch including magicians, jugglers, story tellers, musicians, singers, bawdy and comedy acts. There are interesting shops to wander through, a few old time rides, for an additional coin of the realm (US Greenbacks) you can even ride an elephant. The human chess match between the Queen of England and the King of Scotland is not to be missed, and of course one does not want to miss the Royal Joust. There are endless food stalls selling everything from Turkey legs to bacon on a stick, Deep fried Oreos to Scotch egg eating competitions. And then there are the costumes, some are simply amazing and others, well others are just interesting but I like to see them all from those who are paid to be at the faire and those who fork over the $30.00 for the privilege to attend.
When you remove all the glitter, glamour and glitz it is simply the nerdiest place on earth. A place where nerds from far and wide come to congregate, to drink and make merry where the Trekkies manage to blend in with the twihearts and the elves mingle with the crusaders. A magical place where a 40 year old Harry Potter can sit with a 60 year old Robin Hood and both be served by the same tavern wench who wears a flint lock pistol on one hip and a sword on the other.
But just when you didn’t think it could get much nerdier it does. We were heading off to see the falconer, along the way we noticed three teenage boys sitting at a picnic table playing dungeons and dragons! Really boys, did your mom kick you out of the basement?
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