When we moved into our new place, I bought a couple of dry erase boards to put up. My original thought for them was notes to each other, the receipt from the last orthodontist appointment as a reminder to make the new appointment, that kind of thing. Instead, the only thing that happens on them is we write the funny things that get said around us down, replacing them only with something funnier.
Best story so far...
We are hanging out of the porch, over looking our quiet green backyard, our clothesline that I love to fill with our clothes, and all of our neighbor’s rooftops. I love my porch more than any other place in the world probably. It's peaceful, and encourages happiness.
Best story so far...
We are hanging out of the porch, over looking our quiet green backyard, our clothesline that I love to fill with our clothes, and all of our neighbor’s rooftops. I love my porch more than any other place in the world probably. It's peaceful, and encourages happiness.
Holly is performing her gymnastics feats on the tops of the stairwell and porch railings, as if they are parallel bars. She only makes me a little nervous, but she scares the hell out of her cousin Sammy, who’s been staying with us on and off this summer. Sammy just graduated high school, and has a very well developed sense of humor for her age. Plus, she’s a straight shooter. She calls life as she sees it, because she believes in herself enough to own her own spot of soil in the universe already.
Georgia is talking, not necessarily for the purpose of communicating, just talking. We all half listen, me sitting in my purple chair with my feet up on the cooler. I thought of getting a table to put my things and my feet on, but then where would I put the cooler? This just seems easy.
We probably have a wasp nest somewhere near our porch. They show up pretty frequently, but they leave easily enough. They aren’t taking over. And really, wasp nests are not a Shelly job. I would have to go ask for help to even investigate this problem. So far, we’re living under a quietly-ignore-the-wasps policy. Don’t piss them off. The only problem so far has been that Somewhere doesn’t observe this very well. She keeps trying to eat them on our way up the stairs.
A wasp comes near Georgia on her end of the porch, and she kind of spazzes out. She starts yelling, running around. I yell to her from across the porch, not even sure if she’ll hear me when she’s in freak out mode. “Bee’s can smell fear, Georgia!”
Sammy, without missing a beat says, “Yeah, and you reek.”
Until yesterday it was on the message board. We hadn’t found anything crisp and edgy enough to knock it out of first.
My mom, Pat, recently moved into some senior apartments. She has a plethora of health problems, but at the moment is fairly healthy. Her cardiologist orders a heart monitor once a year and yesterday just happened to be her day to wear it for 24 hours. The monitors have a large box to record information that protrudes out of the belly of the wearer. Yesterday, my mom’s new friend Millie was coming over to my mom’s apartment to grate zucchini, because apparently my mom has a fancier gadget for that sort of thing.
When Millie knocks, my mom opens the door and says “I’m not just happy to see you, Millie. I’m wearing a heart monitor today.”
Obviously, I owe my mother a great debt of gratitude for my sense of humor, although my dad is kind of warped in that department, too. Still, the joke was lost on poor Millie, who stayed silent. But I got a new winner for the quote board…
Georgia is talking, not necessarily for the purpose of communicating, just talking. We all half listen, me sitting in my purple chair with my feet up on the cooler. I thought of getting a table to put my things and my feet on, but then where would I put the cooler? This just seems easy.
We probably have a wasp nest somewhere near our porch. They show up pretty frequently, but they leave easily enough. They aren’t taking over. And really, wasp nests are not a Shelly job. I would have to go ask for help to even investigate this problem. So far, we’re living under a quietly-ignore-the-wasps policy. Don’t piss them off. The only problem so far has been that Somewhere doesn’t observe this very well. She keeps trying to eat them on our way up the stairs.
A wasp comes near Georgia on her end of the porch, and she kind of spazzes out. She starts yelling, running around. I yell to her from across the porch, not even sure if she’ll hear me when she’s in freak out mode. “Bee’s can smell fear, Georgia!”
Sammy, without missing a beat says, “Yeah, and you reek.”
Until yesterday it was on the message board. We hadn’t found anything crisp and edgy enough to knock it out of first.
My mom, Pat, recently moved into some senior apartments. She has a plethora of health problems, but at the moment is fairly healthy. Her cardiologist orders a heart monitor once a year and yesterday just happened to be her day to wear it for 24 hours. The monitors have a large box to record information that protrudes out of the belly of the wearer. Yesterday, my mom’s new friend Millie was coming over to my mom’s apartment to grate zucchini, because apparently my mom has a fancier gadget for that sort of thing.
When Millie knocks, my mom opens the door and says “I’m not just happy to see you, Millie. I’m wearing a heart monitor today.”
Obviously, I owe my mother a great debt of gratitude for my sense of humor, although my dad is kind of warped in that department, too. Still, the joke was lost on poor Millie, who stayed silent. But I got a new winner for the quote board…
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