06 December 2009
Christmas: A Time For Crazy Old Coots to Hug Their Cats
06/12/09 12:52
Around here it's definitely Christmas. The decorations are up in the malls. It's the talk on all the morning chat shows. We've started seeing ads for "The perfect Christmas gift". Among the latter is the "Chia Obama". I don't know if you've seen the ads for it down there but it is quite possibly the most inappropriate product ever sold, and yes, I am including the Hello Kitty AK-47 in that assessment. http://www.glamguns.com/hk47.html This week I was walking down an aisle in the Superstore. Over everything the stores muzak was playing Xmas songs. First there was a version of Santa Baby sung by Miss Piggy, who does for music what she does for glamour. This was followed by a really annoying noise that I couldn't place at first. Then it hit me it was Frosty the Snowman. Frosty the Snowman played on what sounded like leaky balloons. Oh goody, I can't wait until January.
One of the things Marsha has suggested for me for Xmas is a new pair of slippers. This may sound trivial but as I work at home I spend more time in my slippers than I do in regular shoes. My existing slippers were wearing out. The soles developed cracks and by last week the bottom of the slippers looked more like the gill slits on the side of a shark. Marsha kept recommending that I get new ones but I wanted to get every penny's worth of use out of them so I kept wearing them. You know how it is. You say something and feel you need to stand behind it no matter how stupid it turns out to be. (Well maybe that's just a guy thing.) Finally, the strips of the sole were slapping noticeably when I walked and worst of all I started to trip over them. (plus he was leaving bits and pieces of them all over the house) Replace them? Oh no, this is the land of Red Green. I'll FIX them. I wrapped the slippers with a layer of clear packaging tape (I didn't have any duct tape). The sole were in one piece now. Problem solved. Except for the fact that I raised an amazing racket as the tape crackled and popped as I walked. Oh and the tape was slicker than hell. I slipped and almost fell several times before I had to admit the obvious. While Marsha was at work I tossed the remnants of the old slippers in the trash and told her the cats had eaten them. I pulled out an even older pair of buckskin slippers so I STILL haven't had to buy new ones. Neener neener neener.
Oh and I'm officially a crazy old coot now. this is of course something Marsha has known for some time. Any doubt on her part was eliminated this week though when we were sitting in the family room and working on our laptops. I sent her a text message asking her to pass the TV remote, which was sitting on the table between us. She puts up with a lot.
And now for something completely different
Early in the week we heard about the passing of an old friend: JarJar, the first cat we cat-sat. She was a grey and pink cat that was clumsy (hence the name) and had an odd addiction to cardboard boxes and chive. I put together a page as a memorial. If you've ever had a special cat, or knew JarJar you'll understand.
http://web.me.com/geoduck/ShiShi/JarJar.html
Geiger and Momiji are doing well
Doug and Marsha
One of the things Marsha has suggested for me for Xmas is a new pair of slippers. This may sound trivial but as I work at home I spend more time in my slippers than I do in regular shoes. My existing slippers were wearing out. The soles developed cracks and by last week the bottom of the slippers looked more like the gill slits on the side of a shark. Marsha kept recommending that I get new ones but I wanted to get every penny's worth of use out of them so I kept wearing them. You know how it is. You say something and feel you need to stand behind it no matter how stupid it turns out to be. (Well maybe that's just a guy thing.) Finally, the strips of the sole were slapping noticeably when I walked and worst of all I started to trip over them. (plus he was leaving bits and pieces of them all over the house) Replace them? Oh no, this is the land of Red Green. I'll FIX them. I wrapped the slippers with a layer of clear packaging tape (I didn't have any duct tape). The sole were in one piece now. Problem solved. Except for the fact that I raised an amazing racket as the tape crackled and popped as I walked. Oh and the tape was slicker than hell. I slipped and almost fell several times before I had to admit the obvious. While Marsha was at work I tossed the remnants of the old slippers in the trash and told her the cats had eaten them. I pulled out an even older pair of buckskin slippers so I STILL haven't had to buy new ones. Neener neener neener.
Oh and I'm officially a crazy old coot now. this is of course something Marsha has known for some time. Any doubt on her part was eliminated this week though when we were sitting in the family room and working on our laptops. I sent her a text message asking her to pass the TV remote, which was sitting on the table between us. She puts up with a lot.
And now for something completely different
Early in the week we heard about the passing of an old friend: JarJar, the first cat we cat-sat. She was a grey and pink cat that was clumsy (hence the name) and had an odd addiction to cardboard boxes and chive. I put together a page as a memorial. If you've ever had a special cat, or knew JarJar you'll understand.
http://web.me.com/geoduck/ShiShi/JarJar.html
Geiger and Momiji are doing well
Doug and Marsha