I have decided to start typing my blogs in Word. Word gives me the edge I can’t get in blogger, it actually corrects some of my errors. And I am error prone.
The pot roast is simmering on the stove, along with the potatoes and carrots.. it smells heavenly. It smells like fall. I feel pretty queenly like sitting on my new leather chair I got for my birthday. It smells animal like. Roarrrrrrr… I feel like purring. It’s very comfy, I hope I don’t nod off.
Actually when I sit in it, I feel like a CEO and want to make some corporate decisions. Like….”Gord”…clean up the garage..NOW, winter is coming and all your shit is all over the place and we can’t even get a vehicle in it!
Gord: Whatta talking about, all I have in here is my Lincoln, two motorcycles, a snow blower, a lawn tractor and a trailer!..what is your problem? You should take your bike out of here…huh? ..my little bike!
Joan: Okay then, just pick up that piece of paper off the floor, and we will have soooo much more room.
Gord: Well, you don’t have to get huffy. Huffy?…
Joan: I don’t like that word, only old people get huffy, I am not a huffer and never will be. I get pissed off, but never “huffy.” Now I am pissed off however.
Joan: Okay, I yell out to him in the backyard, I was going to make French Toast for breakfast, but now it Salami Sandwiches!!..and I knows he doesn’t like Salami.. the ball is back in my court.
Gord: Sounds good, I’ll be in a sec.
Joan: ^%%$#$#.. I didn’t want to have Salami Sandwiches, I reaaaaallly wanted French Toast. Well, I cooked me own goose I guess.
Meanwhile he is out there, trying to empty the garage and put most of the stuff in our sheds for winter. He has everything running at the same time, to make sure it’s in good condition. The lawn tractor is running, the snow blower is running, two motorcycles are running intermittently, and finally he starts up the Lincoln. Our whole neighbourhood is filled with gas fumes. Of course with his bikes, he has to take both out for a short stint around the block, and rev the crap out of them, thus making this annual tradition is complete.
This ritual was not complete, without him taking the riding lawnmower ( forgot to say this before, but we don’t use it at the house but only for our properties) and he was riding around the back yard trying to scare the be Jesus out of the dog!!!
Then he took the old motorcycle he was going to store in the shed and started to drive it around in the back yard. Poor Penny. I was inside, making Salami sandwiches when all the hoopla was going on, when I heard the horn of the old motorcycle beeping and beeping….and then I heard him yelling…JOAN>>> …holy moly, I thought something had happened, I ran out the front door, and couldn’t find him, I realized he was in the backyard with the old bike. I ran up to him and asked what was the matter… and he said all he wanted his was his picture taken on the bike…Lordylovgordie……….. it’s never a dull day. The only thing he didn’t have running was the rototiller…but the nights not over yet.
I will give him a rating of a “D” today as in Dink….but he’s my dink…what can I say..I married the guy I must have good taste.