Sacred Scroll

Old stories. #2:

I know for a fact that grown men whimper.

I don’t remember the first time I heard Jeff whimper, but it probably had something to do with some expensive Dale Earnhardt Sr 1:24 die-cast replicate race car.

I do remember one quite clearly, though.

Kmart was closing a few Michigan locations, so we took a drive out to one to see about bargains. The one we ended up at was nearly done-in. The place was a disaster; people were taking things off racks and shelves, opening and destroying boxes and leaving items mid-aisle.

I was just about to drag him out of that madhouse when we rolled by an aisle with – gasp – tools!

“Oooooo,” he murmured. Eyes wide, he radared every shelf. I don’t know how he saw it, but well-hidden, stacked behind some really traumatized boxes was a brand new scroll saw with it’s own folding workbench.

He dragged it out for inspection, carefully searching for any signs that it might have been opened before, returned or damaged in any way. Then, cautiously and thoroughly reviewed the “before and after,” markdown pricelist, dragging his finger down the display.

“Oooooo,” he gasped, peering closely. I could see the dreamy dollar signs in his glazed-over look.

“How much?” I asked.

“It was $215.00,” he marveled.

“How much?” I asked.

“It was already marked down to $115.00,” he cooed

“Jeff!” I snapped my fingers hoping to bring him back, because he was clearly swirling into the “I don’t think I can live without this piece of equipment,” abyss.

“How much?” I asked, again.

.Jeff tentatively smiled as he lovingly patted the box and solemnly spoke. “$62.50.”

“I don’t know, Jeff,” I hedged. “What would you use it for?”

“Lots of things,” he insisted. Earnestly adding, “for the store! um, and… making stuff!”

“I just don’t think we can afford that right now, honey,” I said, trying to let him down easy.

Certain he would bow to my logic, I wheeled the empty cart around to leave.

That’s when I heard it. The whimper.

I was so surprised I stopped right in my tracks and turned to stare at him.

The whimper came with a face I had never seen before – one way more serious than puppy-dog eyes.

Eyes still foggy with scroll-lust, bottom lip tucked in under his teeth, still touching the sacred saw, he barely shuffled away from the hand-magnetizing carton.

He truly tried to take another step toward me, moving maybe an entire inch, arm about 20 degrees behind him.

Then he whimpered, again.

“Ok,” I said. “Throw it in the cart.”

He did. Grinning and with ninja speed.

“Quit smiling like that,” I good-naturedly grumbled. “You’re gonna split your face wide open and I don’t wanna spend another night in the emergency room with you.”

Jeff just kept twinkle-smiling. I twinkle-smiled back.

Quote for the Week:

The Electric Argument

Old stories. #1:

April 29, 2008

The Electric Argument

A few years ago, I read an online article about ways to reduce electricity consumption.

I was fascinated to learn that even appliances in the off mode could still be sucking up electricity.

When I passed this information on to my husband, he guffawed. “Absolutely. Not. True!”

I thought it was worth checking out, so I secretly unplugged some of our less used appliances.

Must not have been so secretly, because the next day, all were mysteriously plugged back in.

I unplugged them again, only to discover the phantom re-plugger had been ‘round the house, again.

Recently, watching an episode of the TV show “Til Death,” I laughed to see the very same issue addressed. Joy, of course, believed the electricity saving advice, and Eddie thought it was a farce. And, so began the plugging and unplugging.

It’s weird to see your life on TV. It’s also highly amusing.

Jeff and I never did resolve the electric argument. With all the unplugging and re-plugging, we never were able to prove a savings or not, one way or the other. Then, this month’s Reader’s Digest shows up, and guess what? The April 2008 edition, page 17, has a lovely little blurb about… Vampire Electricity.

If nothing else, at least unplugging all of those dormant appliances reduces the chances of a house fire.

Who me, worry?

Episode 106 of Til Death, “The Toaster” aired 2 months after Jeff passed.

missing time

anybody miss seven/twenty-one?

i didn’t. i mean i did.

but, i didn’t realize i did, until i did.

well, there went my thirteen year streak.

not surgeries, not five-thirty am internet failures as i’m out the door to ireland.

not polar vortex, not even tornado energy grid failure.

yes, a warning signal. oops, a snoozed reminder. the tone of missing time.

a sweetly snuggly cat or two, supper at one am.

i’m a bit baffled by my notice delay.

i can’t pinpoint it. but, i can twenty/twenty.

a plethra of projects with immoderate commitments.

i’ll tell ya what, tho. it’s been fun.

by ‘fun’ i mean a real challenge. for me.

fascination, curiosity, mind-stretch; un-slight, devoted hours.

gladsome. i’m all game. it’s all good.

stress is part of the good. because, it really is.

i chose the contest. i selected the set. i’m courting skills.

i’m proud of my all-in self.

even if i did crash the word carriage. re-routing ruts.

happily still in it. six more weeks, grappling with goals.

expecting to win at the three. yeah, this is how life should be.

Quote for the Week:

Morning, Mid-Week

Started out a bit of a cranky mid-week.

Creaky body (because I exercised).

Uncooperative eyelids (because I was up late working on a project.)

Morning nausea (not pregnant. lol.)

Took an out for my work-out.

Ate an orange (because I probably didn’t eat enough, yesterday.) (actually, there’s no probably about it.)

Did a verb (for perk.)

Plopped down to check if today would be walking weather (rather unwisely.)

Checked FB blog traffic (nada.)

But then,

there was kitty-closeness.

Blu belly kneading.

Nala noggin bumping.

I reset my alarm for another hour of sleep.

Everyone settled down nicely.

Sir Harley on my lap.

Mia pressed up against my head.

Pretty purrs lulled me back to sleep (almost.)

Then,

I sneezed.

Harley Blu rocketed, as he usually does. He hates sneezing.

Nala-Mia, though… she fell right off the back of the couch.

The two together struck me in an Abbott and Costello, Tom & Jerry kinda way.

It took me about 20 seconds to stop laughing so hard I could thumb this into my phone notes.

Took me a while to completely stop spontaneously bursting into giggles.

Now, that’s the way to make an iffy mid-week morning good.

Sorry, babies. giggle*snort*giggle

Quote for the Week:

sternutation

ask me about the verb thing.

Or…

.

Check this out: You can try the Verb starter kit and get $10 off using my personal referral link here:

https://verb.energy/4i3psBxE

Selfish, is it?

I’m not 100% a silver-lining gal, but, in my book, there were a few good things to come out of last year.

One huge plus: Music makers making music.

I’ve been keeping some melodies to myself. Selfishly.

I think. At least that’s how I kinda feel about my hoarding/delayed sharing.

Sort of. Anyway. I’ve been digesting daily, ruminating repeatedly.

This here’s just the first of those COVID+’s I’m letting go, now. Because it’s a lot newer, and timeliness may matter.

May 28th, to be exact. Took a little longer to get to me; across the ocean.

Monday, May 31st at 13:05, to be exact. Through DHL, happily, and not some other hack-way delivery service that likes to leave packages places other than my front door or porch. (Yep, off track.)

Speaking of off-track, one of my favorite total freak-out fan-based things is B-sides and outtakes and the ‘what might have been’ of songs: mining the creative process and good humor.

Actually, there’s no mining when it’s handed to you on a silver-platter, or in this case, on a pink CD.

And, tempting packages for pre-order. (Dec 2020.) Bundles of every conceivable which-way, of which I chose:

CD: Fatal Mistakes

CD: Outtakes and B sides

Autographed insert (fan-girly, but it’ll look lovely in my office line-up.)

T-shirt. I probably didn’t need the t-shirt. Well, to be honest, I completely didn’t.

Don’t worry about my overstock. I’ll take advantage of the situation by off-loading one, holey, faded, stained monstrosity that I would never wear in public. Not even to the trash bin.

The kind of thing I’d only ever wear to cautionlessly paint or forcibly succumb to gardening pressures (if I had to.)

Hmm. Maybe I’ll keep that old one as a designated, doing messy, things shirt. Because I abs won’t mess in my new one.

Ok.

If you’ve been trooping along with the band’s progress posts, you’ll have seen a few videos, heard a few previews of the floaty-sounds radio airplay will make, for sure.

If ya, haven’t been following, it’s not too late. The moral of the music is that you can go back and do it again – 20 years later. Successfully, wonderfully. Barry, bonnie, lovely. Platinum worthy.

Quote for the Week:

  1. Current Fav Track: It’s Feelings
  2. Next, Start here: You Can’t Go Back
  3. Then, Go Back here:  Roll to Me

(Or vice-versa (3, 2) if you adventurously need an introduction to humor and the band.)