Returning the Boots

Russ has a pair of Lands End boots that needed to be returned. He has put the deed off for two years, but he finally got the box together to have them returned. It is February, he is without a good pair of boots, and needs a set.

 Once the boots are received he will receive another pair. He brought the box to the post office and a few minutes later returned in a huff because it was going to cost $10.05 to send them rather than the $6.95 that he was counting on. Hence he stated, "I'm not spending that kind of money. I won't return the boots." 

I reminded him that neither FedEx or UPS would be cheaper, that he was crabbing over pennies, and he needed a pair of boots not a box with useless boots in them. It ended with me passing him the money and saying, "Get your butt out of this car and return those boots!" 

 Surprisingly, he did. When he returned I asked, "What did the postmaster say since you had just been in? Or, rather, what did you say?" He replied, "I told her that my wife and I had a disagreement over $3.05 and that you won."

Deliciously Scared

My grandkids liked to be scared, deliciously so.

 Their father has a game called Scarey Monster. Since they live in the woods on 25 acres, they are without electricity. At night it can get really dark when the oil lamps and candles are unlit. 

Their papa will hide in a darkened room with a flashlight. They enter and he will pounce upon them shining a flashlight to catch them in its glow. He then wrestles them to the ground and tickles them. 

The two boys love it, but their sister, Antonia, at 2 1/2 is too young to play unless she is held by her father. She gets to pounce and scare. 

Recently, they played Scarey Monster and a newly potty trained Antonia and her father jumped out to scare the boys. 

 Her father learned an important lesson while holding her that underwear don't absorb as well as diapers when you get scared, deliciously so.

More Snow

We managed to visit with the grandkids and get some sledding in before running into another snowstorm on our way home. It was uneventful except for the near miss as we exited the ramp.

 The guy behind didn't appear to have good tires on and slid past us into the median. It was a little odd to realize we were both traveling in the same lane. 

Later we were awakened by a violent thunderstorm with lightning and heavy rain. It sounded like spring or summer, but it was dumping on several feet of accumulated snow. It made me start thinking about gardening and mowing the lawn. 

 But, alas, no lawn visible. The snow had gobbled up half of the swingset, the front split rail fence, and our bushes. Everything is sleeping well. Not a bad idea especially after shoveling.

Big Snow, February 2, 2011

We are hunkered down at home while most of the country comes to a screeching halt due to a huge snowstorm over 2100 miles. 

Why do I like this? I don't have to go out if I don't want to. I will be baking something yummy, or at least one thing yummy. 

There are scented candles burning and the fragrance is lovely. 

Clean flannel sheets are on the bed and the pillows are fluffed and ready for a nap, an early night, a good read before sleep. 

We have a snowblower that I don't have to know how to work, Russ does. 

We have electricity and heat. The refrigerator is well stocked. I have some good books to read and some good movies to watch if I want to. And the people I love are well and protected from the storm.

Puzzles

When you grow up in a small house with 8 siblings one things that you don't play with are puzzles. Hence, I never knew how to do them. 

 I clearly remember that the first time I worked a large puzzle (think 300 pieces), Peter helped me and he was six. That meant that I was 28 years old.

 For years as the kids got older, I usually sat on the sidelines and watched. I would try to help, but invariably a piece would be put in wrong. I thought that if I could make it lie flat, it fit. Imagine lots of pounding. 

So, now 20* years later, I work puzzles. And I enjoy them. I do 1000 piece ones, but I have only done one by myself. 

So it's cold out, the puzzle table is ready, and I'm raring to go. Wanna help?

You are not my Father

Whenever I go to the dentist, I'm always afraid that my father will appear. 

 Not, my birth father, but the father that hides behind the dentist mask and says, "You seemed to have missed this place while flossing." sigh

 Sometimes he may even become sterner, "You know, you only have to floss the teeth that you want to keep."

 And inside I'm shouting, "You, unlike Darth Vadar, are not my father. I'm paying you over $5 per minute to clean my teeth, so clean. If I knew how to get tartar and plaque off on my own I wouldn't be here." 

What if the hairdresser, tsk,tsked, because your hair was too long? 

How about pooh poohing over somebone's inability to do their own sonogram?

Sock sale mania

Yesterday, we headed out for the annual sock sale in Northfield, VT at Cabot Hosiery. We were an hour early and made it to just 4 people shy of standing by the door. Next year we're going to aim for the vestibule.

 Anyway, at 8:30, we headed on in. I made a beeline for the shot sock table and Russ headed up front to grab a bag. 15 minutes later and $70 poorer, we were on our way to the Mazzillis for homemade donuts. The grandkids helped sort socks and we are home today with way too many socks. The Mazzillis have a huge pile of mismatches to wear and destroy while doing chores. 

 I have dozens to give to the family and I plan to bring a large box of 40+ pairs to work. We like bargains, quantity, and great deals, I guess. 

On Thursday, we raided Penney's and filled a cart with maternity shirts for my clients. I think we bought 100, spent $19, and saved $3000.Yes, those numbers are real.