A big HELLO & Good Morning everyone! I hope your day will be more fruitful than mine. I'm kind of down this morning. It is a little depressing to have to put on sweat pants and trudge the trash to the curb BEFORE the sun is even up. I don't like the implications these things bring. As is my custom, upon delivering my last trash container to the curb, I look up and down the street to get a feel on how the neighbors are doing. To my dismay, I was one of a few that had their trash out and it was almost 7:00 am. I trudged back into the house; head down with thoughts turning toward finding an inviting locale to winter where temperatures do not even flirt with the freezing point. Hmmm! Any suggestions?
I would have issued a special update last week but I didn't have the time as it turns out. Over the many blogs I have talked about most of my neighbors from time to time. There is EM, MacBlu and H, the educator, to name a few. H came over Tuesday afternoon out of breath. I asked what was wrong and she related her story to me. She explained that she didn't get her trash to the curb by 7:00 am as dictated by the Garbage Gestapo. She had just forgotten or maybe she slept in, I didn't really pry into the reason seeing as it was none of my business. Around 11:00 am E remembered the trash. Not having heard any trucks go by yet she decided to sneak her GARBY to the curb and see what would happen, taking her lumps if necessary. Grabbing her GARBY, E said she felt a wave of defiance come over her. Instead of sneaking to the curb, she stood up straight, fluffed her hair, straightened her clothes, lifted head upward and strode proudly AND defiantly to the curb pushing her overflowing GARBY. You see not only was she late, she had stuff sticking up out of the GARBY. A very distinct NO-NO with the Garbage Gestapo. Returning to her house she was puttering around, getting her CURBY loaded. Just then a truck zoomed up, jammed on the brakes, and out hoped a young man. He yelled at H and told H that he would "WAIT" if she wanted to wheel her CURBY out to him. "WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON?", she wondered. Never and I repeat NEVER has a Garbage Gestapo soldier EVER acted that way. Absolutely against ALL Gestapo rules of conduct. I can only surmise that the lad was new on the job and wasn't fully indoctrinated yet, or he was having a breakdown, or just had an argument with his boss and was getting even. I just don't know. H went on telling me that later the GARBY pickup truck came by, stopped, emptied her GARBY, and went to the next house. No yellow sticky about being late, nothing. You can imagine how excite H was over these events. Never have we had such an occurrence on Orchard Drive (Wisteria Lane). WOW! I may design an event that will test this to see if a new day is dawning in garbage collection or if it simply was an isolated happening. Stayed tuned.
Word of the Week - copacetic
I was so pleased that Roscoe called last Saturday from somewhere in Nebraska, he has not told me where he is exactly but I am sure he will eventually. His timing for the call is scary. How did he know I was, at that moment, being over-whelmed by dogs? I was just about at my wits end with these creatures. You see I decided to stay home from the Iowa Hawkeye football game since we were playing a seemingly inferior opponent and I had volunteered to watch Kinnick, the lab. I already had the pugs so I thought hey, no big deal. I was wrong. I was still ensconced in my recliner after watching the game on TV. We won easily by the way. The pugs and lab were juiced up having won also. They are big Hawkeye fans, of course. Kinnick decides to play the "I'm as small as the pugs, Barney & Max" game by crawling up on my lap; all eighty pounds of him. It didn't matter that Barney & Max were already there also, he just sort of budged in and let them move over. With all of the weight from these dogs, I measured each breath as carefully as I could. I let them stay there a couple of minutes and then forcibly made them get off. They were not happy! Luckily for me the phone rang and there is Roscoe on the other end.
We talked like an hour or so. Very therapeutic. I learned that Roscoe's great-aunt Enid slipped at her cabin and broke a leg. She is in the hospital he related. The cabin it turns out at Lake Whatstheuse. It is an Indian name I think and is somewhere in Nebraska. She is doing okay, I guess but her husband Willard isn't so lucky. Enid always cleaned the fish he caught it seems. With her in the hospital, Willard doesn't know what to do with the fish he has caught and they are stacking up and smelling. Evidently the thought of stopping fishing for a while has not occurred to Willard. I told Roscoe that he should suggest that to Willard the next time they talk. Naomi, Roscoe's widowed neighbor came over while we were talking. I noted a change in Roscoe's mood when she showed up. He appeared to become a more animated and even a little giddy. I am not one to pry so I can only surmise that Roscoe and Naomi have a "thing" going on. Roscoe's call lifted my spirits so much; the rest of the day went smoothly.
Our church has hosted the LAST volunteer flood crew this past week. My current wife, Sue, and another young thing at the church were running our hospitality lodging the last couple of summers. Since the devastating flood of 2008, our church has hosted volunteer groups coming into town to work at rehabbing flood damaged homes. Initially, Charles (not his real name) and several others did the whole thing, finding houses to rehab, scheduling, providing supplies, and etc. It was a HUGE job. Then all of the work assignments and such were turned over to a centralized group and we provided only the lodging. The last I knew, our church had over 1,500 individuals come through from about 45 states. Several groups returned many times. Although a lot of work, it has been a very satisfying mission for all involved. I know our daughters greatly appreciated all of the volunteer help getting their places taken care of. Now, maybe my current wife will be free to take some trips I have wanted to do for a long time. Refer back to the first paragraph above.
I know all of you are on the edge of your seats wondering about that "word of the week". The statement "Iowa's win last Saturday was Copacetic, wouldn't you agree?" is an example of the word in a sentence. Got it figured out? If not, copacetic simply means "very satisfactory".
You probably have guessed by the way this blog has eroded into non-sensible meandering or "Drivel" that my French Roast has run dry for today. That reminds me, "Have you seen the price of coffee lately?" Wow! I am not sure I can afford 2 cups a day anymore. I may have to cut down to 1 cup. That worries me a lot since the quality of this blog, or the lack of it, depends almost entirely on how much caffeine I have pulsing through my veins. I may send my current wife out to McDonald's for a part-time job so I can continue to afford the French Roast. Until later my friends, all the best to you - TA!
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