Well, Cookie has made it through the family reunion and I am still processing the feelings of confusion, bemusement and annoyance following the get together. Once I process everything, I shall enlighten you.
IN THE MEANTIME...
Going back a post or so I wrote about the man complaining about his nipples (tits, if you are a woman, in his eyes), and so I have been doing my fair share of observing people and listening in.
One of the former bloggers posted on their Facebook account about about the battle that still rages in the region - are you a Duke's Mayo person, or are you a Hellmann's person.
Last week, the hotel was full of Southerners back up north for family reunion time.
Overheard at the Giant Eagle in Beachwood, Ohio was a southern woman in the condiment aisles. (Honey and I were there picking up cookies to nosh on.)
"Where is the Duke's? All I see is Satan's* mayonnaise."
AT THE WAITING ROOM...
Husband had to have a bad molar removed. We got to the oral surgeons on time, but waited close to an hour before they called him back, so after five days in the car ALONE and the hour in the waiting room, things were getting kinda quiet.
In walks a woman who looks like "Dougie" (on Life in Pieces) and her Mama. Dougie sits down, Mama checks in, and then they start picking on each other:
Mama: "Good Lord. Look at those feet of yours - toe jam and what have you done to your toenails?"
Mama: "You need to cut those toenails. Why are they sharp and pointed?"
Dougie: "That's the way they grow, naturally..."
AT Barnes and Noble...
"Where do the books that have titles beginning with "The" start?"
"I am looking for a book. The cover is pink and it was on Dr. Phil a couple of months ago. Where is it?"
Do you have a title?
"No, it was written by a woman...No, I don't remember what it was about, just that the cover was pink and title begins with "The".
IN FRONT OF OUR HOUSE...
This morning I was watering the flowers when a fellow Shakerite who lives in this God forsaken hotter than Hades place called Baltimore walked by and stopped and we chatted. We chatted about this and that, and we chatted about Van Aken Shopping Center in Shaker, which is no more. We parted, vowing to get together, and I went to get the hose reeled in.
An older woman, also walking her dog "You-Hoo'd" me and I walked over.
"Your flower garden is very colorful," says she. I thanked her.
"The colors are very vivid," says she. I agreed.
"Are they perennials?" she asked. "No, annuals. Annuals give you color season long."
"It's so unusual to see a house with so much bright vivid color. I only plant perennials. Why pay for the flower more than once? We're not used to such bright, vivid, floral displays. How do you ever sleep with all this loud color going on?"
"You know when Walter and Trudy lived her, their yard blended better with the rest of the houses. What is going on in that garden?"
She crept closer to the beds and I crept along with her. The flower bed was, as it is every morning, buzzing with dozens of types of bees. Which is great. She seemed gobsmacked.
"Well! This is where all the bees are in the neighborhood! These flowers are distracting them from other parts of the neighborhood!"
DING, the crazy bell went off.
"Doubtful," came out of my mouth. I dared not tell her about the copious numbers of lightning bugs, the dragonfly's and the worms in the back garden. Or that we have hummingbirds, gold finches and downy woodpeckers. That would have sent her over the top.
To get away from the daft old woman, I said "well, if you excuse me, I need to get this hose wound up."
"They are lovely but very loud," and off she went.
ON THE PHONE...
"Hi! This is Judy! Someone in you household called us mobility devices, and we're calling you back." Click.
ME, IN A BAR TONIGHT...
"A Manger's Pear, please."