Monday, March 25, 2013

Bikini Season is Coming

I got to go for a run today in downtown Saxtons River.  You blink at the front (that would be east) end of Main Street where the “Back at 2:00 PM” sign has been hanging in the front window of Bob Thompson's real estate office since I've been a resident, and by the time your eyes are open you've driven through the front doors of what should be a Congregational Church but is now the Saxtons River Historical Society at the other end.

There are too many dead end streets in Saxtons River.  Literally.  I kept running up what looked like promising jog-along-the-river roads only to have do an about face and retrace.  Which should not be a problem other than (who’s with me on this?) I hate running back from whence I came.  Oh and often at the end of dead end roads is a house and somewhere a line that marks the end of the dead end road and the beginning of the driveway.  Yes that driveway.  The one owned by a guy who owns a house at the end of a dead end road so no one will bother him.

Apparently I have crossed that dividing line because up on the porch shouting and gesticulating (from the Latin gesticulatus meaning get your gonads off my property) is a gentleman who looks like his mother may also be his sister.  Shouting something that sounded like  MMrphster fragginrassin muoofretrobulator.  Weelaproppiginna gonads.  Except he didn't say gonads.  And he used some other words in there I can't share just in case anyone shares this with my mother. Now even if you haven’t had the chance to spend time around anyone who spends time with a big wad of Red Man Chewing Tobacco stuck between his cheek and gum you would know, now would be a good time to get back on the other side of that line.  And I have (spent time developing listening skills with tobacco chewers), but more on that in a minute. 

It’s time to leave.  Except I’m about two miles into the first run after a winter of, how you say in your country, couch potatoing (See Dan Quayle’s Spelling for Dummies if you don’t think potatoing is a word).  Tying the laces of my running shoes (about two miles ago) had me winded.  Luckily down the hill is away from the set of Deliverance so I fall to safety.  Literally.  

One of my first real jobs other than babysitting and mowing lawns was in 9th grade when I went to work for the Champlain Construction Company and Mr. Bucky Danyow.  Bucky loved chewing tobacco and a 5 pound wad of Red Man was a typical portion.  If you were looking for him you simply followed the brown splats.  He liked to say “The world is my spittoon” and people who knew him gave him about 6’ of personal space.  Violate this at your own risk.

Well it’s your first day on the job and wanting to make a good impression when the Boss says “Geddaframpoffathur” and gesticulates towards the tool room you run over and grab a rake and bring it back to the Boss.  “Noddagaddmfimkin rake, geddaframpoffathur”  Back to the tool room for the shovel.  “Noddagaddmfimkin shovel, geddaframpoffathur”  Back to the tool room or use the shovel to dig a hole big enough for a skinny 13 year old.  I decide to throw myself at the mercy of the crew most of whom are peeing themselves after witnessing my first 2 minutes on the job.  One kind older gentleman explains that Bucky wants me to get him a tamp.  

Oh okay like I know what a tamp is.  Here you can have this shovel, I’m going for a run.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Fading to Spring

I finally put my cross country skiis and poles away.  End of the season.  Except, if you never used your cross country skiis and poles then technically I don't think you can claim a season.  But it sure did feel good walking by as they rested against the coat rack all winter.  Getting stronger by being close.  My abs tightened little by little just by passing the front door.  Wicked bulging triceps simply by thinking about all that double poling I would be doing if it weren’t for the Bruins being on TV.  It’s tough being an athlete.

Started on the twice a year cleaning.  Knowing that you’re never going to get 100% of the dirt up does not justify not taking a stab at the first 99%.  Or in the case of 329 Dorsch Hill Road, Putney, VT 05346 (in case anyone wanted to send me a “hope you get over this cleaning thing” card) the first 1%.   When the recliner got moved, (yes I’m that serious) I realized the good folks from Pringles had started a chip factory under there.  

Did you know there is a Pringles App?  Except it is not available from the U.S. Itunes store.  Go ahead, I’ll wait while you go check it out.  They probably have started a campaign to promote better health through exercise.   C’mon America, put down your handheld device, get up off the couch, grab a can of salt and go for a walk.  Hahahahaha.  OMG.  LMAO.  LOL.  BFF.  WTF.  NASA.  SCOOBIE-DOO.

Clean.  I can’t even figure out how to reload the Swiffer Sweeper I found downstairs.  The good folks from Swiffer have a very nice website with a video on how to do this.  Which I should have watched before I spent the afternoon on my hands and knees with a Swiffer Sweeper wet mopping refill in each hand working the floor.  Fake Spring smelling cleaning liquid on, fake Spring smelling cleaning liquid off.  Try saying that 3 times fast with a mouthful of Pringles.  Go ahead, try it.  Now use the Swiffer Sweeper to clean up all the bits o’ chips you sprayed all over the place.

How about these words?  Do they seem brighter?  Jump off the page?  I even cleaned my keyboard.  Most people would just throw away their dirty old computer and get a new one.  Not me.  A box and a half of Q-tips has never been more wisely used.  There are figuratively 100‘s of cleaning uses for the Q-tip.  Literally there are 31.  Go ahead, check it out.  It seems the good folks at Q-tips want us to use them for everything except for what we all use them.  Making sure the passage through which our brains get fresh air stays unclogged. 

Could someone call my mother?

I think I’m done for today.  I’ll get the upstairs and bathroom tomorrow.  Unless the Bruins are on.  

Now I’ve got to bring the golf clubs up from the cellar.  Looking to take 2 points off my handicap this season.  From the comfort of my recliner.

Love you all.  Peace.  Peter.