Possumblog

Ouch.

Wouldn't you know it, but it held off raining long enough for me to cut the grass Saturday. Twice. Once to get off the upper ranges of the overgrowth, then once more to pick up the big gobby soppy windrows (or, to be more precise, lawnmowerrows) of wet clippings that made long clods across the yard. The normal two-hour meditation session hour lasted three and a half, and my ankles are sore, and my hips, and the bony parts of my elbows (the elbones, for you medical types). BUT, doggone it, the grass (i.e., weeds) is (are) cut and now I can once again rejoin the good graces of my neighbors.

One of whom is new. I didn't realize it, but our rear neighbor Young Phyllis George Lookalike Girl and her husband and kids moved at some time in the near past, and sold their house to someone else. I met the new neighbor guy Saturday when we were trying to shoo away someone's big stupid hound dog that wandered into our yards (and got into his dog's pen). Nice guy, but he sure has a long way to go before looking like a young Phyllis George.

Let's see, what else--OH, I picked up my suits Friday with the reet pleat and drape shape, and I must say I look very acceptable in both. Also dropped off my old suit to be snugged up a bit.

Then I went home to drop things off before meeting up with Reba and the kids over at her mom's house. Seems she allowed herself to be dragged into the preparations for the Saturday shindig, so we had supper over there while she and the kids helped out. BUT, before I got there, there was the Super Terrific Big Gift Box to ME (whom it is all about) that arrived, just as I was getting the trash can in. Mr. UPS stopped outside on the street and delivered a big long box full of BRAND NEW EUROPEAN GLASS HEADLAMP UNITS (made in Taiwan) for a certain spiffy old Volvo. COOOL! I have tried the polish route on the clear plastic lenses, which managed to not do too much. The lenses are still foggy-looking, and by gum, I want to be able to see to drive and not have to put up with a dull and ugly front end.

On the car, at least.

SO, with a portion of the proceeds from Moby, I laid down some dough for some nice(-ish--they aren't quite as wonderful as OEM, but they only cost half as much) E-code lamps and side marker lamps. Only problem is they didn't send the new bulb connectors. I will withhold judgement on the company (FCP Groton) until I see how they handle this small, but crucial, oversight.

But, I am tickled nonetheless.

EVEN MORE SO, my evil plan to corrupt the pure and innocent Miss Reba with my dementia seems to be bearing fruit! BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!

Saturday as I was taking a break from killing myself, I had taken a moment to fix one of my new taillight bulbs. One of the backup lights wasn't coming on, so I had to fix that--it was just not pushed all the way in to the bulb holder--and as I was doing that, Miss Reba came out to see how I was doing and to deliver a cold drink to me.

"Let me ask you something, Terry."

::gulpgulpgulpHUHAHUgulpgulp::glup "Uh?"

"Since you got your little shiny hubcaps from the junkyard, and your new taillights, and you painted--"

"Dyed."

"--dyed your plastic stuff on the doors, and since you're going to do the bumpers so they will all look nice, have you ever thought about getting something to make these--"

She was pointing at the headlights! YES!

"YES! They're right inside the garage! They came yesterday. And they're not plastic--they're EUROPEAN style GLASS ones that won't get all dull-looking! AND it comes with new lights for the sides, too!"

The European reference hooked her--"OOooo!" she said.

So, it appears my evil plan is paying off. Of course, any evil plan, or for that matter, any Moron Project, requires maintenance, so I will have to be sure to buy her some chocolate ice cream. And finish typing her paper.

And I was also a good sport and took the two older girls to the cookout our youth minister had yesterday for the teenagers, after we had already worn ourselves out with two worship services and lunch all smacked together right after another that morning at church. I had intended just to drop them off and come back to the house.

And there I was, thinking I might get to sit and rest and read the paper.

Wrong.

But before all that, I had to go get gas in her car, then go by the drugstore to pick up some medicine, then get some vittles (chips, dip) for the girls to take with them to the cookout, and then hauled them over there and HAD TO STAY WITH THEM. Reba was very insistent that I stay, since parental presence was the only thing that would have made Rebecca want to stay. The older kids occasionally act like older kids to the younger ones, and it hurts Rebecca's feelings.

Actually, it turned out to be pretty fun. I kidded the minister about burning up the hamburgers, and then sat down and played about five hands of UNO with Rebecca and her friends, which helped make it fun for her, and then we got to eat and I sat and chatted with a couple of the moms who were there without manly accompaniment (me being a somewhat close approximation thereof), then Rebecca and her friends went and got sweaty playing hide-and-seek. Ashley stayed in the house to hone her flightly laugh-talk jabbering skills. It was all very good, aside from the flies. Time to go about 7:30, so back to home, and pretty much that was that.

Oh, wait--forgot about the soiree at Grandma's on Saturday. I was a model of anti-socialism. I was so beat from the grass-cutting and inflatable pool removal (it deflated and spilled out all that precious water onto the ground, and also managed to rot the ground underneath so that it started breeding flies--really) that about all I wanted to do was sit and vegetate. Tons of people, a lot of whom I hadn't seen in years, but I wasn't able to do much more than say 'hey' and sit on the steps. Time to eat, I got a plate, and since Grandma broke her own rule and allowed the children to go downstairs, I made myself the deputy warden and went down there to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn't tear anything up or spill things. And got treated to a three-hour Fairly Odd Parents marathon. Actually, a pretty funny show--this was the first time I'd been able to see it, and I was in the proper exhausted mode necessary for it to be really, REALLY funny. And I didn't have to make idle chit-chat with adults, so it was all good.

Anyway, an action-packed weekend full of food and confusion. Oh, and I'm sore.

OH, and how could I forget!? I also had to go buy a battery for the Honda Saturday morning. I thought the kids might have left a light on or something, because it was very hard to get going Friday night, but they hadn't left anything on. 75,000 miles? Yep, probably time for a battery. So, FIRST thing Saturday, before I started the grass-cutting, I went down to Advance Auto Parts to get them to put in a new one. Done in about ten minutes, the only problem being that since the battery had been disconnected, the radio was now in anti-theft mode, and in order to play it, I was supposed to put in some sort of five-digit code. Which I had no idea where I could find. We bought the van used, and I never saw any sort of code or other radio information.

::sigh::

Sounded like a trip to the dealer.

Got home and was looking in the passenger door bin to find whatever had been rattling, opened the glovebox to see if the rattle was in there, and saw a small sticker on the side of the box. White, black numerals. Hmm. Five digits, followed by a series of numbers underneath. I wonder....

Turned on the ignition, turned on the radio, punched in the five digits--EUREKA! That was the code! I was very happy. Until, of course, I had to cut the grass.

And yes, the lawnmower blade insisted on coming loose again, so I had to stop and go buy a 22 cent lock washer from the hardware store to finally fix it once and for all. Or until next time.

ANYway, that's it.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at August 1, 2005 08:49 AM