She’d Rather Wait

I’m still not feeling well and am not in the mood to write, so today is Throwback Thursday. The following dialogue took place between Alma (a 92-year-old woman I used to take care of) and myself. Alma passed away early last year at the age of 94.

May 30, 2015 at 11:08am

Alma – The weather’s been awful this year, hasn’t it?

Vicki – No.

A – You don’t think all this rain’s been awful?

V – No, awful is a destructive tornado, or being flooded out of your house. The weather we’ve been having here is terribly annoying, but I wouldn’t call it awful. That, to me, is like daring God to show us how much worse it can be.

A – What do you mean?

V – I mean, maybe it’s better to thank God for how good we’ve got it than to complain about how terrible it is.

A – I’m gonna wait for it to dry up a little.

Donut’s School Days

I generally peek outside before exiting my house to ensure that the hillbilly neighbors aren’t outside so that I can sneak out in peace.

Extroverts who read this might not understand this habit of mine, but surely even extroverts can understand the need to dodge annoying people.

Recently I peeked out of three different windows to make sure I wouldn’t have to interact with the hillbillies when I went outside. Once I was finally satisfied they were either inside or elsewhere, I walked out and there was Donut! She was at the end of the driveway looking for someone or something, shielding the sun out of her eyes.

When she heard my door she turned around and greeted me. As usual, I feigned fidgety politeness. The politeness I feigned because one shouldn’t be unnecessarily rude. The fidgeting wasn’t exactly feigned, but it was slightly exaggerated in order to convey that I had other things to do.

We chatted a few minutes and she finally brought the conversation to an end by saying, “Well, I need to go in and do my homework”.

That’s all it took to pique my interest and spark the following conversation.

V – Homework?

D – Yeah, you didn’t know I was goin’ to school?

V – No, I had no idea! What are you studying?

D – I’m takin’ a computer class that teaches ya how to open Windows – that’s computer lingo – and I’m takin’ a business class.

V – Interesting! I didn’t realize you were interested in business.

D – I’m not. I hate that class! I wanted to take photography ’cause that’s where my heart is, but there wasn’t enough money left over from the grant after I paid off all my hot checks. I had to take a couple of cheap classes.

V – Oh, I see. So you’re going to school because you applied for a grant to pay off hot checks?

D – Yeah, but I had to take somethin’ ’cause if I kept the grant money without goin’ to school, they might put me in jail or somethin’. I was gettin’ ready to be arrested for the hot checks, so I had to do somethin’, and since the grant people give ya more money than ya need, I used most of it to pay off my checks.

V – Well, good luck!

D – If I go back next semester I’m gonna take photography. I like takin’ pictures! I take really good pictures. Every time we take family pictures I’m always the one holdin’ the camera ’cause everybody likes the way I take pictures.

So that’s the story. Donut is taking a couple of cheap classes at our local junior college to avoid going to jail over hot checks. I’m not sure if that makes her a scholar or a con, but she’s out of hot water for now.

Calling All Food!

Dee (my dear 70+ year old neighbor who passed away last October) is the one who gave the name Donut to the matriarch of the hillbilly family living next door, but to my knowledge Donut is not aware of her nickname.

Coincidentally, Donut named her dog and cat Taco and Oreo.

Several times a week I hear her calling for one or both of them, either to call them in for the night or to call them in for their dinner.

Donut calling for Taco and Oreo is enough to make one hungry. It’s like food calling food to come in and eat their food.

I posted this on Facebook a month or two ago and was surprised by how many of my friends name their pets after food items, but then again I once heard of a woman who named her daughter Frappuccino, so I guess naming your pet Hamburger Helper or Chips Ahoy isn’t much of a stretch.

The Mysterious Hymn

I have been hearing the faint sound of a melodic hymn for the last half hour. No words – just music. The music would play for two to five minutes, stop, then start up again. I’m not very familiar with many hymns any more but the music was beautiful! I thought it was an awfully strange thing to be hearing from next door. I’ve never heard the hillbillies play anything so beautiful or to play their music so softly – regardless of time of day.
Finally I stopped what i was doing to concentrate on the beautiful music in an effort to identify the song. I sat quietly, focusing all my attention on the music and that was when I was finally able to identify it.

It wasn’t music at all! It was a fly that had been buzzing around the room the whole time – a very musically inclined fly!

I didn’t have the heart to swat such a talented fly, so I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes trying to shoo him out the front door. I have not yet succeeded in this endeavor and he’s still serenading me with his hymn.

Herding cats may be impossible but not so much as herding musical flies.

The Neighbors’ Oven Dilemma

A few nights ago I heard a knock on my door. It was Donut (my next-door neighbor) holding a giant metal baking pan wrapped in foil.

My first assumption was that she was bringing me some leftover home cooking. I turned on the porch light and opened the screen door.

“Can you put this in your oven?” she asked. “That glowin’ thing in my oven got all burned up and this thing ain’t done cookin’.”

This wasn’t the first time she has asked to use my oven. Twice before she has wanted to use my oven and twice before I’ve explained to her that since I live alone and don’t do a lot of baking I only have a little toaster oven that couldn’t possibly accommodate her giant baking pan.

For the third time in the last three or four years she acted completely shocked that I do my baking in a toaster oven. And for the third time she told me I needed a larger oven. (She was very judgmental in her tone.)

I’m not sure why I need a larger oven … unless I need to be able to provide Donut with baking options during the holidays or when her element burns up.

I suggested she finish baking the dish on her backyard grill.

“I can’t do that!” she stated emphatically. “Those things are just for hamburgers and weenies. They’re just made for meat cookin’. You’re not s’post to cook anything else on ’em.”

I guess somebody should have told my mother that outdoor grills were just made for “meat cookin'”. When I was 10-years-old we moved from Dallas to the small town of Roxton, Texas. It took a few weeks to get our utilities turned on and we cooked an a grill during that time. Mom made a casserole with that sucker! I would have preferred hot dogs.

Falling for Non-Human Fictional Characters

A woman in one of my Facebook groups recently expressed an attraction to fictional non-human characters, such as David, from Lost Boys; Hell boy; Predator; Narcisse, from Night breed, and Mr. Tumnus, from The Chronicles of Narnia. Of these characters I’m only familiar with Mr. Tumnus, but I’m wondering now if this is a “thing”. She mentioned she’d be willing to marry any of these characters, among several others.

Do people actually develop crushes on fictional, non-human entities and/or monsters? Personally, I only develop crushes on the human female characters, although I must admit I always admired the friendship that grew between Lucy and Mr. Tumnus … but why anyone would want to marry a goat-man is beyond my understanding.

I wonder if it’s still considered bestiality if the life form is half human and half critter. Or would it depend on which half was what?

I’m not sure which sounds worse:  “human brain and critter bits” or “critter brain and human bits”.

People never cease to worry amaze me.

Gonorrhea’s Surprise Visit

I biked up to the Dollar General store this morning and on the way home, just as I crossed the intersection on the corner, a friend of Einstein’s pulled up next door.

The friend took a couple of minutes getting out of his car because he was busy studying his Adam’s apple in the rear view mirror.

I heard the hillbillies’ back door slam as I was walking my bike up the front porch steps, and as Einstein was walking up the driveway I heard him yell out, “Hey, Gonorrhea! I didn’t know you was comin’ over today!”

So I guess Gonorrhea showed up out of the blue, without warning, but I suppose that’s the way it always goes with such infections.

Gonorrhea isn’t exactly a handsome guy, but he’s not bad looking at all … especially for a S.T.D.