Joe2Lmaker
Well-known member
When I left work today, I thought it had been a pretty good day.
My wife was out running errands when I got home so I wandered around our nearly empty nest, then out into the yard, then back into the house. I found a few things to keep me busy, but I really wanted to talk about my day with someone.
So, I called my brother. Turns out I couldn't talk about work with him either. I learn he's on bed rest, cortisone shots in his back and looking at dealing with pain and Vicodin the rest of his life. We made plans to have lunch and said goodbye.
Finally, my wife gets home and I get to tell someone about the drama at work. God bless her. She knows she has another six months of Daily Drama Updates, but she listens patiently.
She hasn't finished running errands, so I volunteer to tag along. The next band of heavy rain is moving in and we climb into my truck to search for dinner and a bathing suit. About half way to the mall, the sky opens up, slowing traffic to a crawl. I comment, "If these idiots don't know how to drive in the rain, they shouldn't live so far away from where they work!" My wife just laughs and wonders if bringing me along was a good idea.
Bathing suit shopping was a little traumatic for the wife. I'm pretty sure she had tears in her eyes when she came out of the dressing room to show me the last one.
While shopping, another band of rain was moving through. I could hear the rain pounding the roof. The roof started leaking near one of the check-outs and I asked if it leaked every time it rained. The response was a surprised look and "No, it has never leaked before." I begin imagining hail the size of grapefruit and want to head for the exit near where the truck is parked. I see clerks preparing to close some of the stores and I overhear a security guard explain where the severe weather shelter is as the lights flicker.
When we get to the exit, the rain is steady. This is an improvement. I look up and see lighter patches in the sky. I'm thinking "This will be over soon" when my phone rings. My phone never rings. I pull it out of my pocket to see that our second oldest is calling. That's weird. I answer and hear my sobbing 23 year old stepdaughter. "I left work early because I have a migraine. I'm in my car. The streets are flooded and I can't get home."
After a few questions, it's clear that she's o.k., but totally freaked out. (o.k. except for being totally freaked out) I tell her just to stay in the car, let the engine run and that we'll be right there. So, we get on the freeway and head into town. Why is it that kids from the suburbs always seem to move into the city? Never mind, I already know the answer to that. I do remember something about being a kid.
When we get to the exit we need to take, something odd is going on. A minivan with a disoriented couple is headed in the wrong direction. The look on their faces is like they've just seen Godzilla. This isn't looking too good. We proceed down the ramp and line up behind four or five cars. Each driver wonders if it's safe to drive through a rather large puddle. Most of them opt out and decide to drive on the boulevard instead. I decide to hell with that and drive though the six inch deep pond.
As soon as we are back on dry pavement, we see reminders of why it's a bad idea to drive into water if you are unsure of its depth. The next stretch of road is a lake. The water is eighteen to twenty inches deep and there is a stalled car in each direction. One of the drivers is sitting on his roof, I assume awaiting rescue. A cop is directing traffic and not all of the drivers want to follow his direction.
We travel three blocks to the next water hazard, more stalled cars, and kids out playing in the water. Everyone else turns back, we slowly drive through. The water wasn't even up to the hubs. Now, this is getting fun! Ten more blocks and we are near the intersection where our daughter is waiting. The scene here is like a carnival. There are stalled cars with their flashing emergency lights, people walking in the shallow temporary lake. Some of those people are filming the scene. Most of the other drivers are wide eyed and indecisive. Citiots. It truly takes a village to raise a citiot. At least my daughter has an excuse. She is operating with less than optimal brain function as a result of her migraine. That's right! Focus Joe! We are here to rescue Kate. We can't afford to be distracted by this sociology. We proceed cautiously through water hazard number three. The water might have touched the hubs on that one. I'll spend the next few days wondering if I should tear into them, just to take a look.
Daughter rescued. Delivered to her apartment. Hugs and kisses all around. The wife and I head for home, super capes flapping in the moist wind.
We stop at the liquor store and then to a fast food place Dave Thomas named after his daughter.
On the way home, I saw the most incredible sight. One of the bands of rain laden clouds was to our east. The next threatening band was to our west. There was a break in that bank of clouds big enough to let the light from the setting sun light up the clouds to our east. Towering reds and purples illuminated the earth. Almost invisible was a thin band. My wife and I saw it at the same time, but she wondered aloud what it was. I looked more intently and could see it was a rainbow. The setting sun was lighting up a rainbow, but because the suns rays were reds and yellows instead of white, the rainbow didn't have all of it usual hues. It was absolutely spectacular, and yet so subtle and faint, we almost didn't see it at all.
What a day. I could hardly wait to sit at my computer and share this with you. I'll spare you the boring details about what is going on at work, but I will ask you to say a prayer, visualize a positive outcome, or send some positive thoughts this way.
While I was just sitting down to begin this rather long post, a shrill scream came from the kitchen, followed by "Oh My God! Oh my God!" "What the hell? Oh my God!" We have a dog and two cats and I'm thinking something horrible must be happening to one of them. Or, maybe the knife slipped as she was arranging flowers and she's bleeding. I run to the kitchen, my wife still screaming.
She has a vase on the counter. I don't see any blood. The animals are looking at me like they want me to help, but they look alright. "How did that get in my vase?! Look at that thing!" She is pointing to a two and a half or three inch long centipede in the vase. It's trapped in there. The poor thing keeps scurrying up the sides, but falls back to the bottom. Each time it scurries, my wife screams. She runs down the hall a safe distance.
I'm pumped full of adrenaline, it's funny but I can't laugh. I just say "What's the problem? These are beneficials. They eat spiders!"
"I don't care!" she screams. "I hate them!"
"They're one of God's creatures", I say, teasing her. I feel the edges of my mouth begin to curl up with a wicked smile. She is down the hall to my left and I'm standing in front of the sink. I can barely see her out of the corner of my eye. Knowing that the poor creature cannot escape the vase, I put the edge up to my lower lip and open my mouth. There is no reaction from the hallway. I wonder if maybe she's not looking and I tip the vase a little higher. Just as the centipede starts to slide on the glass, its little legs start scurrying.
The hallway explodes with noise, the wife is running away screaming and cursing at me. I have a nanosecond "Oh ****!" moment and luckily get the vase up righted in time.
I start chuckling, and take the poor thing out to the lilac bushes and release it.
I made a few memories today. It was a very good day.
My wife was out running errands when I got home so I wandered around our nearly empty nest, then out into the yard, then back into the house. I found a few things to keep me busy, but I really wanted to talk about my day with someone.
So, I called my brother. Turns out I couldn't talk about work with him either. I learn he's on bed rest, cortisone shots in his back and looking at dealing with pain and Vicodin the rest of his life. We made plans to have lunch and said goodbye.
Finally, my wife gets home and I get to tell someone about the drama at work. God bless her. She knows she has another six months of Daily Drama Updates, but she listens patiently.
She hasn't finished running errands, so I volunteer to tag along. The next band of heavy rain is moving in and we climb into my truck to search for dinner and a bathing suit. About half way to the mall, the sky opens up, slowing traffic to a crawl. I comment, "If these idiots don't know how to drive in the rain, they shouldn't live so far away from where they work!" My wife just laughs and wonders if bringing me along was a good idea.
Bathing suit shopping was a little traumatic for the wife. I'm pretty sure she had tears in her eyes when she came out of the dressing room to show me the last one.
While shopping, another band of rain was moving through. I could hear the rain pounding the roof. The roof started leaking near one of the check-outs and I asked if it leaked every time it rained. The response was a surprised look and "No, it has never leaked before." I begin imagining hail the size of grapefruit and want to head for the exit near where the truck is parked. I see clerks preparing to close some of the stores and I overhear a security guard explain where the severe weather shelter is as the lights flicker.
When we get to the exit, the rain is steady. This is an improvement. I look up and see lighter patches in the sky. I'm thinking "This will be over soon" when my phone rings. My phone never rings. I pull it out of my pocket to see that our second oldest is calling. That's weird. I answer and hear my sobbing 23 year old stepdaughter. "I left work early because I have a migraine. I'm in my car. The streets are flooded and I can't get home."
After a few questions, it's clear that she's o.k., but totally freaked out. (o.k. except for being totally freaked out) I tell her just to stay in the car, let the engine run and that we'll be right there. So, we get on the freeway and head into town. Why is it that kids from the suburbs always seem to move into the city? Never mind, I already know the answer to that. I do remember something about being a kid.
When we get to the exit we need to take, something odd is going on. A minivan with a disoriented couple is headed in the wrong direction. The look on their faces is like they've just seen Godzilla. This isn't looking too good. We proceed down the ramp and line up behind four or five cars. Each driver wonders if it's safe to drive through a rather large puddle. Most of them opt out and decide to drive on the boulevard instead. I decide to hell with that and drive though the six inch deep pond.
As soon as we are back on dry pavement, we see reminders of why it's a bad idea to drive into water if you are unsure of its depth. The next stretch of road is a lake. The water is eighteen to twenty inches deep and there is a stalled car in each direction. One of the drivers is sitting on his roof, I assume awaiting rescue. A cop is directing traffic and not all of the drivers want to follow his direction.
We travel three blocks to the next water hazard, more stalled cars, and kids out playing in the water. Everyone else turns back, we slowly drive through. The water wasn't even up to the hubs. Now, this is getting fun! Ten more blocks and we are near the intersection where our daughter is waiting. The scene here is like a carnival. There are stalled cars with their flashing emergency lights, people walking in the shallow temporary lake. Some of those people are filming the scene. Most of the other drivers are wide eyed and indecisive. Citiots. It truly takes a village to raise a citiot. At least my daughter has an excuse. She is operating with less than optimal brain function as a result of her migraine. That's right! Focus Joe! We are here to rescue Kate. We can't afford to be distracted by this sociology. We proceed cautiously through water hazard number three. The water might have touched the hubs on that one. I'll spend the next few days wondering if I should tear into them, just to take a look.
Daughter rescued. Delivered to her apartment. Hugs and kisses all around. The wife and I head for home, super capes flapping in the moist wind.
We stop at the liquor store and then to a fast food place Dave Thomas named after his daughter.
On the way home, I saw the most incredible sight. One of the bands of rain laden clouds was to our east. The next threatening band was to our west. There was a break in that bank of clouds big enough to let the light from the setting sun light up the clouds to our east. Towering reds and purples illuminated the earth. Almost invisible was a thin band. My wife and I saw it at the same time, but she wondered aloud what it was. I looked more intently and could see it was a rainbow. The setting sun was lighting up a rainbow, but because the suns rays were reds and yellows instead of white, the rainbow didn't have all of it usual hues. It was absolutely spectacular, and yet so subtle and faint, we almost didn't see it at all.
What a day. I could hardly wait to sit at my computer and share this with you. I'll spare you the boring details about what is going on at work, but I will ask you to say a prayer, visualize a positive outcome, or send some positive thoughts this way.
While I was just sitting down to begin this rather long post, a shrill scream came from the kitchen, followed by "Oh My God! Oh my God!" "What the hell? Oh my God!" We have a dog and two cats and I'm thinking something horrible must be happening to one of them. Or, maybe the knife slipped as she was arranging flowers and she's bleeding. I run to the kitchen, my wife still screaming.
She has a vase on the counter. I don't see any blood. The animals are looking at me like they want me to help, but they look alright. "How did that get in my vase?! Look at that thing!" She is pointing to a two and a half or three inch long centipede in the vase. It's trapped in there. The poor thing keeps scurrying up the sides, but falls back to the bottom. Each time it scurries, my wife screams. She runs down the hall a safe distance.
I'm pumped full of adrenaline, it's funny but I can't laugh. I just say "What's the problem? These are beneficials. They eat spiders!"
"I don't care!" she screams. "I hate them!"
"They're one of God's creatures", I say, teasing her. I feel the edges of my mouth begin to curl up with a wicked smile. She is down the hall to my left and I'm standing in front of the sink. I can barely see her out of the corner of my eye. Knowing that the poor creature cannot escape the vase, I put the edge up to my lower lip and open my mouth. There is no reaction from the hallway. I wonder if maybe she's not looking and I tip the vase a little higher. Just as the centipede starts to slide on the glass, its little legs start scurrying.
The hallway explodes with noise, the wife is running away screaming and cursing at me. I have a nanosecond "Oh ****!" moment and luckily get the vase up righted in time.
I start chuckling, and take the poor thing out to the lilac bushes and release it.
I made a few memories today. It was a very good day.
)
