Posted tagged ‘cursing’

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“My knowledge of computers begins and ends with hit power switch, magic box comes on.”

February 17, 2017

When I start to mutter and it morphs into cursing, you know I have reached the end of my patience. Sometimes it takes a long while t other times it doesn’t take so long. It happened this morning, the cursing out loud and the long while. My computer is not cooperating. It has frozen a couple of times. I restarted once then gave up for a while and just left it on. I watched a bit of TV, ate some toast and had another cup of coffee.

I’m watching a really bad movie filled with actors who never became stars and are now relegated to movies like this and unknown actors just glad for the chance. The movie is called Awaken. Avoid it at any cost, even if it’s free. Oops, Michael Pare just bit the dust.

The morning was cold, mid 30’s, but sunny. Since then the day has gotten warmer and is in the mid-40s’. The sun has stayed around for the first time in days.

My house is a giant dustbowl especially here in the den. It’s where the cat, dog and I spend most of our time. The cat sleeps on the chair while the dog and I share the couch. She gets two cushions because she stretches out when she naps, like now, and I get one.

I can’t take it anymore.  I watched the end of that horrible movie and for the last hour I have been sitting here waiting for my computer. It has returned, but I am done.

 

Categories: Musings
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“And falling’s just another way to fly.”

November 23, 2015

Okay, it has been a while so no be careful and take precautions sermonizing. I admit it: I fell this morning. It was on my brick walkway as I was going to get the papers. I was wearing my soled slippers when all of a sudden I moved and my foot didn’t; instead, I went down. It was amazing as I could see the brick getting closer and closer then down I went. Luckily I wasn’t wearing my glasses as they are my last pair. The other pair was destroyed by a fall which occurred in the same way: I go forward, my foot stays behind. As soon as I hit the bricks, I howled in pain then rolled over to the grass. If I’m going to be in pain, it might as well be on the soft grass and not the hard bricks. I stayed there a bit until I could get myself up as only one hand was available. I made it upright, but my hand really hurt so I sort of had to cradle it with the other hand. I got back inside and made coffee, all with one hand. I then took the top off the fake sugar jar, dropped it and it broke. I didn’t curse when I fell but the broken cover elicited a barrage of blue language.

I sat down, drank my coffee and read a bit of the paper then I had to go over to my neighbor’s as on Mondays she and I go over the citizenship questions. If I have to repeat three branches of the government one more time, I will not be responsible for my actions.

The whole time I was there my hand was resting in ice as it had swollen quite a bit on one side, the one I used to try to catch myself, a ploy which didn’t work too well.

I am a two fingered typist who is now a one figured typist so this will be a short entry today. My finger is exhausted.

My left hand and wrist look disfigured. The small finger side is massively swollen, but I was lucky yet again: no broken bones. I didn’t fall gracefully but I did fall safely in some strange way.

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“Games lubricate the body and mind.”

December 27, 2014

Okay, yesterday I was a woman of my word. I didn’t even get dressed. Most of the day I lolled. Today I need to get my laundry out of the dryer where it has sat for at least a week then I can do another laundry which will also probably sit for a week. I woke up at 10:20 this morning because I didn’t go to bed until three. I just wasn’t tired. Mostly I watched Doctor Who and then finished my book.

Winter sunlight is muted and seldom warm but still welcomed. It is here again today with its frame of blue. I was out on the deck to stop a barking Gracie, and though it isn’t as warm as it has been, it is still warm for late December. Gracie has been out most of the morning enjoying the yard. She has yet to take her morning nap, a most unusual occurrence.

One of favorite Christmas presents was my bike. I was around nine or ten. When I came downstairs Christmas morning, I saw it beside the tree leaning on its kickstand. I knew it was mine, not my brother’s, because it was a girl’s bike. I remember that was the Christmas of no snow, and on Christmas morning I was glad. I’d get to ride my bike. When I took it outside for the first time on the day after Christmas, my mother took a picture of me standing beside the bike holding it by the handlebars. I have the biggest grin on my face. I remember how proud I was riding my new bike.

Every year we’d get a new game. On Christmas day, after dinner and seeing family, we’d set up the new game by the tree, lie on the rug and play. If we didn’t know the game one or the other of my parents read and explained the directions as we went along.

I give my friends a new game every year, my way of keeping the tradition alive. It’s getting more and more difficult finding real put your hands on the pieces games instead of video games, but I usually am lucky to find a couple.

I love game nights, our weekly get-togethers. We have appetizers and drinks. We have moaning and cursing. Sarcasm rules the evening. Someone is always dubbed the loser with finger L on forehead. Sorry and Phase 10 are the usual games. Phase 10 is civilized. Sorry never is and never has been. That’s the fun of it.

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“There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.”

December 3, 2013

In the movies, people grit their teeth or chew on a belt while surgery is performed without anesthesia. Off goes the leg, the patient smiles in thanks then passes out from the pain. The next day the one-legged patient is up and around using a tree branch as a crutch. It’s not only inspiring but we also know exactly what to do should we ever find ourselves deep in the forest needing our leg amputated using only a Swiss Army knife, the one with fork and the toothpick. I, however, am not inspired. I’d spit out that belt, curse and scream my head off. I know this because my back is now cause for cursing. When I sit too long or when I sleep, my back stiffens up, and I have to grab whatever I can like door knobs or bureau corners to help propel myself forward. In the morning the added need is speed to get to the bathroom. I moan and groan at every step and let slip a curse. Okay, I admit it: several curses. Gracie, sitting on the bed, cocks her head and wonders. Fern lies on her back meowing for attention. I just keep moving.

After I am up for a while, the stiffness almost goes away. At my best, I think I look like the second or third ape from the right on the evolutionary chart. We’re definitely cousins.

A few stops are on my dance card today. I am out of sunflower seeds and cat litter but don’t warn or worry. I will not be lifting them. They’ll be put it in the trunk for me, and Skip is coming tomorrow to do a couple of things so he’ll move the bags into the house.

It is time to treat myself. I’ll have another cup of coffee and a biscotti I bought yesterday, a chocolate biscotti . Call it a reward for getting out of bed.

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“Gee, do they still make wooden Christmas trees?”

December 10, 2012

Last night it started raining and it has yet to stop. I find rain a bit dismal this time of year as I always think of Christmas as snow time. Maybe it’s the carols that have me hoping for an inch or two or Santa’s sleigh or how pretty the snow looks. I remember looking out the window and seeing snow falling and yelling in excitement for everyone to come and see.

Today I’m bringing you the story of my Christmas tree. I bought it yesterday, and it is beautiful, shorter than usual but just as full. I went to Hart Farm, and that wasn’t easy. You can no longer get there from here. The bridge right before Hart’s is closed for repair so that means going all the way around on Route 28, my least favorite road, but Gracie and I made the trek anyway. Walking among the Christmas trees made it all worthwhile. The smell was wonderful, and I found 2 trees, either of which could grace my living room. The man who works there is a former student, and I asked which of the trees he’d choose. One, he said, would shed its needles quickly but the other would keep them. It was an easy choice; of course, the price was hefty on the second one, but I bought it anyway, and I also bought a centerpiece of boxwood. The tree was put in my trunk and all the way home I had to hear the beep, beep, beep, the incessant beep of my car telling me the trunk was open. Did you notice it was all the way home, the long way.

I got home and tried to get the tree out of the trunk. It was stuck, but I yanked and pulled and got it out, leaned it against the car then decided to attach the new tree stand before bringing the tree inside the house. I bought the new tree stand anticipating a smaller tree. The stand fit but wouldn’t go up the trunk far enough so the tree could have water. Two nubs of branches were in the way. I cursed as I took the stand off and then went down the cellar to get the other tree stand, the stand easy enough for one person to use. I attached the bottom of the stand to the trunk then carried the tree into the house. No, carry is wrong. I lifted and stopped, lifted and stopped because of the weight of the tree. A few times the tree wouldn’t move; I couldn’t lift it. I finally figured out that’s what happens when you step on lower branches. At last the tree made it to the living room. Three low branches were broken, stepped on too many times. I lifted the tree, put in into the stand then moved it around until it was straight. I pushed in the pedal which secures the tree in place then got the funnel with the long tube. That’s new this year. It for watering the tree so I don’t have to crawl on my stomach to give it water. I hid the tube in the branches then sat on the couch to fill the funnel with water when all of a sudden the tree started to lean. I thought it would fall so I grabbed it. The funnel filled with water angled when the tree leaned and spilled water all over the floor and all over me. I cursed, cleaned up the mess and was about ready to turn this tree into a yule log but decided to try again. I went down the cellar to get a dry sweatshirt and the directions for the tree stand. Ah, the directions, why didn’t she get them in the first place. She didn’t get them because she thought she remembered how to use the stand. Wrong!

I lifted the tree out of the stand, pulled out the pedal as directed, held my foot on it, a step I hadn’t done the first time, and then placed the tree back into the stand and moved it until it was straight then I pushed in the pedal. The tree stayed straight and tall. I stopped cursing.

The tree is sitting in the middle of my living room as I have to move a few small pieces of furniture before it can sit in its rightful place then the decorating will begin. I’m betting the finished tree will make everything worthwhile.

 

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“When angry count four; when very angry, swear.”

June 4, 2010

Gracie wanted out about 6:30, and I obliged. It was gray and overcast. I went back to bed. When I woke up at 8, the sky had miraculously turned blue and the sun was shining. It’s such a lovely day I took my outside shower then sat on the deck for a while. I have designated today put the screen in the back door day, the surest sign of summer.

When I was a kid, the storm windows went up every winter and came down in the spring. My father would climb a ladder and curse a lot as he tried to hold on to the ladder and unhook the storms from the windows at the same time. One of us was on bottom of the ladder duty, and he’d hand the storm window to the duty officer waiting below who would then hand him the screen. The screens slid in and that too was often cause for cursing. They had to be placed exactly in the right spot or they wouldn’t slide. The storms and the screens had wooden frames. The storms were painted white and the screens green. The front and back doors too had painted green wooden screens. I remember how much they slammed shut all summer despite my mother telling us not to let the door slam. We always heard her too late. We were usually already running down the back stairs. She wanted to know how times she had to tell us before we’d remember. We had no idea.

When I bought my house, it came with storm windows and doors. The storm windows slid down in the winter and up in the summer. The screens took the opposite journey. It was easy, no ladder or cursing for me. I just opened the inside window, pushed in the locks on each side of the bottom of the storm and slid the storm window up to its summer position. The screens had no locks and slid down easily. Over time, though, the metal locks seemed to harden, and it got harder and harder to push in and hold them. My fingers usually stung, and I’d finally get to curse. The windows, especially the den window facing north, were drafty despite the storms. It was time for a change.

The windows I have now never need sliding, and the screen is permanently down. In the winter all I do is shut the windows and make sure they’re locked. No more cursing, at least not at the windows!

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