Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Timberwolf - Crayola

Shadows
Grey rising up
Lights turn down
Night a timber wolf
Lurking
Hovering
Surrounding
Slowly, steadily
Run, run, you resist
The urges rushing
Escape, escape
Frantic now
To late

Night has fallen

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Emery, Craigslist, and Kurt's Pajamas

“Should I tell someone where I am going?” I think to myself as I follow the robotic female’s voice directions to the location Kurt had texted to me.  “Well I did tell Dana’s mother I was going to buy a table saw from a guy on craigslist.” 

Twenty minutes later!

“Your destination is ahead on the right”

I pull in the driveway, up to the open garage and push the button on my steering wheel and I redial the last number. “Hey! I think I’m here.  Is your house blue?” I say looking at the navigation display.  The box in the center reads, “You have reached your destination.”

“I don’t think so, my house isn’t blue,” comes the gravelly voice on the other end.  “Are there horses there?”

“Yeah!”

“That’s not my house?  I’m the fourth house on the left?  My mom has a tan Buick and I have a green SUV.” Kurt’s voice is muffled and he speaks in a mumbling kind of way. 

“OK, be right there.” I reply as I back out of the neighbor’s driveway.  I turn to Emery, “Oh boy!”  My brain starts to think, “This guy is definitely an adult, sounds kind of sketchy and he lives with his mother in the middle of nowhere.  Sounds perfectly safe, besides I have Emery the twenty five pound Springer Spaniel puppy with me.”

As I pull in, the house looks pretty normal.  Playset in the yard, a boat, well kept.  I put the car in park, say to E, “Be right back.”  Famous last words…

I stand in the driveway, waiting for Kurt.  Kurt comes out, probably in his mid 40’s, still dressed in his pajamas, “Hey!  Come-on it’s in the basement.”

 I smile and respond, “Great!”  We get to the back door and he opens it, “After you,” I respond.

The machine is in the basement and weighs at least a thousand pounds.  After about twenty minutes of wrestling we get it in the car, I thank Kurt and were on our way.  “Well E!  Another successful purchase.  You have such an overactive imagination!”


Emery turns, gives me the classic confused dog look and curls up on her seat for the ride home.  

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Do You Want to Build a Snow … YUCK!




The glow of the porch lights grows as the twisted bulbs warm up.  The light spreads across the back lawn and I can see it.  My worst fear has been realized as I look and the remnants of a long cold winter are revealed.  The once pristine, beautiful, glistening snow has been replaced with a disgusting dirty mess that extends well beyond the reaches of the light.

On the left, it’s road grim, left by the snow blower, spreading out from the driveway like waves; jagged little sideways mountains of grayish black dirt highlighted by the glowing snow underneath.  And that’s the good part.
To the right, it looks like the cratered surface of the moon.  Divots of sunken dog prints litter the area in a sea of large bluish ice chunks.  The ice chunks are a stark contrast against the white and grey snow.  They appear to have been haphazardly stacked as a barrier from the worst part of the new landscape.

In the last stretches of bulbs, the divots increase tenfold and so do the moon rocks. They are scattered everywhere.  One, two, sometimes three fresh moon rocks a day had been randomly placed in the fresh white snow.  Now as the snow retreats back toward the lawn, the moon rocks stand tall on little pillars of snow.  Disgusting little reminders of a job left undone.  Little reminders I had hoped would magically dissolve, oh how wrong i was.

I try to form words as I look out on this devastated waste land, but all I can muster is a guttural sigh of disgust.  And then in the absolute end of this overwhelmed region, just able to be seen in the darkness is Emery, carefully placing a new moon rock.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

My Muse



My phone vibrates and I glance at the seat next to me.  I see an incoming call from Dana; her smiling face brings a smile to mine.   I excuse myself from the room and answer it.  “Hello?”   We had just talked 30 minutes ago and exchanged several texts.

“Hey!  How is your class going?”  Comes from the other end.  

“Ugh, it’s killing me!  He presented for 40 minutes about Smart Notebook and now he is giving us two and a half hours of work time.”

“Too work on what?” she asks quizzically. 

I laugh, “Anything we want.  So you can imagine how productive I am being.” 

“I'm sure!  Did you finish your Slice?”

“No, I am struggling to think of something today! I just can't get it together, I hardly ever have a difficult time coming up with ideas.” 

I hear her laugh in the phone, and her reply leaves me with a giant smile, “It’s because you haven’t seen me all day!”

"So true.  You are my muse!" 

Monday, March 9, 2015

Empty cans, Urinals and genius ideas!

I guess I had put it off long enough and it was time to finally to confront my problem, the empty can problem.  I don't know of anyone in the world who likes to return, dirty, slimy, gross empty cans.  When we were remodeling our house I had some pretty good ideas to improve the overall plan of the house.  I would suggest things like, urinals, bidets, man caves, etc. but Dana would always shoot these down without the least amount of thought.  So, when I had an idea for the cans I was surprised she actually agreed with me.

One day I said to her, "What do you think about a hole in the counter that you can put empty cans down and they end up in the basement?"   And our can chute was born.

"You know you have to go in the basement and get them eventually, right?"

"Yeah, of course," I reply.  The laugh was on her though.  I put a giant barrel in the basement and because she never goes down there, she would have no idea when it was full.

Oh! Was I wrong.  As each can went down the chute, she had an uncanny ability to judge the fullness based on the sound it made as they landed.

Today was no different.  "The can bin is full," she said as I walked in today.

"Really?" I reply in my best nonchalant suprise voice.

"Really, they're bouncing off the concrete floor!"

"Is that what that sound is?"

"TR!  Time to take back the cans!  There open till six."

"I'll never be able to eat and get there by six!" I am sure this is foolproof and will buy me at least one day.

"You can eat when you get back, besides you just said you weren't that hungry." She flashes me that beautiful smile, "Love Ya!"

As I pull into the can place, I think to myself, "I should have fought harder for the urinal!"

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Struggles

She runs left, then right and I reach out and grab her.  She tries to wrestle loose but I hold tight.  "You are not getting away from me!" I say through clenched teeth.  You can see the fear in her eyes.
"E!  It's bath time!"  Her beautiful white and black fur is caked with road grit and grim.  Our morning walk was the highlight of her day.  Dana said to her, "Emery, do you want to go for a walk?"  At this Emery, jumps up runs over to lick her face.
I guess we aren't the only ones that are sick of this long winter.
So once I have ahold of her,  I put her in the tub and turn on the water.  She is definetly not happy now.  Her legs are stiff and her little tail is stuck straight out.  I pour cups of water over her and the road grim runs down her legs and into the water.
I keep talking to her super sweet.  "Oh, Who's a good girl?  You are gonna be so clean.  Who's my baby?"  Emery doesn't respond still stiff legged and straight tail.
I squirt the shampoo on to her and rub it into her fur.  The white fur is still brown and black.  The bottom of the tub has enough grit to to fill in a small low spot in the yard.  Emery still doesn't respond.  Her legs are stiff and the tail is straight.
I finish up her bath and tell her it's ok to get out.  She looks at me and springs out.  No more stiff legs! No more stiff tail.  She looks around and shakes her whole body, water flying everywhere before she lunges for my clean fleece.  She rolls in it, twists, shakes, and growls before sprinting out the door.  I follow behind with the towel but she doesn't care.  I know where she is going, the "no dog couch."  I get to the bottom of the stairs and she is already on the couch.  Again twisting, shaking, and growling all while trying to get the water off of her.
"Emery!"  I shout as Dana walks in the door.
"What are you two doing?"
"She just got out of the bath?" I reply.
"Really?  Looks like you missed some spots."
"HAHA, If you only knew!"

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Brown Boots or Brown Boots

"What do you think?  These brown boots or these brown boots?" Dana asks.
My first thought is, is this a trick question? But fortunately I pick the right brown boots.
Unfortunately, as she is putting on the boots, there is a run in her tights.  "Can you notice it?  How do you stop a run from getting worse?"
"Nail Polish, I think."
"I'm gonna google it,  I think it's hair spray. And we don't even have hair spray!"  Dana is not happy.
"How about I go to Rite Aid and get you a new pair."
All smiles, Dana says, "That would be perfect."
So, out the door I go.  I get to the store and head to the section with the panty hose.  I never realized there was so many choices. A, B, Queen, King...  None of this means anything to me.  All I know is I need gray sizes 6-8.  So I scan the section and I am not seeing anything like this.
Along comes a lady and I say, "Is off black the same as gray?"
"Not really?" comes her response.
"Well what about some other black color?  I really need gray?" is my desperate response.
"Here is a pair,  Gray tights size small?  But they are tights?"
"What's the difference?  And how did I get myself into this in the first place?" I say exsaperated.
The lady laughs and says, "My husband won't even buy pantyhose for the roof!"
"I'm just gonna buy one of each."
"Haha, good idea!"

Slice Of Life