Dawn's Digression.
Monday, June 16, 2003
I'll take 'Things That Are Gimpy' for four hundred, Chuck!
I had a rather gimpy* weekend.
Friday night was good. For awhile. Michele was working late, so I put in my favorite Indigo Girls DVD and yelled "Hand!" "Ass!" "Boots!" as necessary. I was fully intending to turn it off when she got home, but I was pleasantly surprised when Michele sat on the couch with a beer and proceeded to discuss lyrics with me. I could not have been happier. I should mention here that I was becoming increasingly drunk on Appletinis. We're discussing war, politics, and The Power of Two. I'm happy. Then I get up and cook hot dogs. She ticks me off, I'm drunk, I'm mad...yadda yadda yadda. It was ugly for a few moments. Then we talked, and if I remember correctly, things were okay. Nothing gimpy there. Except for maybe me since I was drunk.
Saturday we went shopping for Father's Day gifts. I got new pants. Not exciting. Then we went home and Michele decided to mow. Here's where we get gimpy. I was in the house working on softball stuff. I went outside for something-- who knows what and she asked me to help by picking up the sticks in the front yard. Okay. There were a LOT of sticks, BTW, from those storms. We have this huge tree in the front yard that I named Isabel a couple of years ago. Isabel is quite large. And limbs fall off her all the time. The last big storm we had, a branch about six inches thick fell down. The storm before, we had a limb so big we had to get the guy next door who has a chain saw to chop it up for us. There is a large branch a good 20 feet up that I just know will be the next one to fall. It's going to hit the roof and flip over and total Barney. I can feel it. A~, Michele needed scissors. I got the scissors. I went outside. I noticed a branch of the neighbors fern was hanging on our side of the fence. I cut it. I noticed another branch. Cut that, too. Then I noticed all the ugly pesky weeds. So, I cut those, too. I ended up with gigantic pile of foliage I had cut down with a pair of scissors. I shit you not. Scissors. You know, those ones for sewing with the orange handles. I couldn't stop. I have to say the driveway area looks much better. Here comes the gimpy part. I felt like I was crawling with bugs, so as a short term solution I went inside and washed my hands and arms. (Yes, of course I was planning on taking a shower, but I still had stuff outside to do.) My hand was stinging. I looked at it, and it was red and I had two blisters on my palm. My hand got really stiff. So, I had blisters. I woke up Sunday morning with another blister. And then at my parent's house on Sunday there was yet another blister. Yet somehow today, they are all gone. But I was gimpy for a day. It was grody.
Last night Michele was letting Darcee (the stupid dog) in the house. When you go out our back door, there is about a six inch drop to the patio. (If you could really call that a patio. More of a cement patch, I think.) Michele opened the back door and Darcee had positioned herself just right so that the corner of the screen door went right into her left eye. Ouchy.
Darcee was walking around with her eye shut. Her third eyelid (Is that actually a 3rd eyelid in dogs, or just a membrane? Who knows? I'm not a nurse. Just go with the story.) was closing. She looked gimpy, indeed. So, I got some ice and held her in my lap like a baby with the ice on her little eyeball. OH, did she look pathetic. It was awful. She was breathing hard and her little eye was twitching. Then I noticed her right eye started looking very very sleepy. I'm telling you, this dog was milking it. She was. Michele wanted Darcee to sleep with us because Michele had guilt(she usually sleeps in her carrier [The dog. Not Michele]). I told her that was fine--Darcee could sleep on her side. Because I don't care when that dog was last bathed, she still smells like a dog. Michele asked Darcee if she wanted to go to bed. That dog hopped up, opened both eyes wide and started running around the house like a maniac. Gimpy eye, my ass. Big baby dog.
*the word 'gimpy' was picked up from Chulie, to give credit where credit is due. It is now word of the week.
Friday night was good. For awhile. Michele was working late, so I put in my favorite Indigo Girls DVD and yelled "Hand!" "Ass!" "Boots!" as necessary. I was fully intending to turn it off when she got home, but I was pleasantly surprised when Michele sat on the couch with a beer and proceeded to discuss lyrics with me. I could not have been happier. I should mention here that I was becoming increasingly drunk on Appletinis. We're discussing war, politics, and The Power of Two. I'm happy. Then I get up and cook hot dogs. She ticks me off, I'm drunk, I'm mad...yadda yadda yadda. It was ugly for a few moments. Then we talked, and if I remember correctly, things were okay. Nothing gimpy there. Except for maybe me since I was drunk.
Saturday we went shopping for Father's Day gifts. I got new pants. Not exciting. Then we went home and Michele decided to mow. Here's where we get gimpy. I was in the house working on softball stuff. I went outside for something-- who knows what and she asked me to help by picking up the sticks in the front yard. Okay. There were a LOT of sticks, BTW, from those storms. We have this huge tree in the front yard that I named Isabel a couple of years ago. Isabel is quite large. And limbs fall off her all the time. The last big storm we had, a branch about six inches thick fell down. The storm before, we had a limb so big we had to get the guy next door who has a chain saw to chop it up for us. There is a large branch a good 20 feet up that I just know will be the next one to fall. It's going to hit the roof and flip over and total Barney. I can feel it. A~, Michele needed scissors. I got the scissors. I went outside. I noticed a branch of the neighbors fern was hanging on our side of the fence. I cut it. I noticed another branch. Cut that, too. Then I noticed all the ugly pesky weeds. So, I cut those, too. I ended up with gigantic pile of foliage I had cut down with a pair of scissors. I shit you not. Scissors. You know, those ones for sewing with the orange handles. I couldn't stop. I have to say the driveway area looks much better. Here comes the gimpy part. I felt like I was crawling with bugs, so as a short term solution I went inside and washed my hands and arms. (Yes, of course I was planning on taking a shower, but I still had stuff outside to do.) My hand was stinging. I looked at it, and it was red and I had two blisters on my palm. My hand got really stiff. So, I had blisters. I woke up Sunday morning with another blister. And then at my parent's house on Sunday there was yet another blister. Yet somehow today, they are all gone. But I was gimpy for a day. It was grody.
Last night Michele was letting Darcee (the stupid dog) in the house. When you go out our back door, there is about a six inch drop to the patio. (If you could really call that a patio. More of a cement patch, I think.) Michele opened the back door and Darcee had positioned herself just right so that the corner of the screen door went right into her left eye. Ouchy.
Darcee was walking around with her eye shut. Her third eyelid (Is that actually a 3rd eyelid in dogs, or just a membrane? Who knows? I'm not a nurse. Just go with the story.) was closing. She looked gimpy, indeed. So, I got some ice and held her in my lap like a baby with the ice on her little eyeball. OH, did she look pathetic. It was awful. She was breathing hard and her little eye was twitching. Then I noticed her right eye started looking very very sleepy. I'm telling you, this dog was milking it. She was. Michele wanted Darcee to sleep with us because Michele had guilt(she usually sleeps in her carrier [The dog. Not Michele]). I told her that was fine--Darcee could sleep on her side. Because I don't care when that dog was last bathed, she still smells like a dog. Michele asked Darcee if she wanted to go to bed. That dog hopped up, opened both eyes wide and started running around the house like a maniac. Gimpy eye, my ass. Big baby dog.
*the word 'gimpy' was picked up from Chulie, to give credit where credit is due. It is now word of the week.
Dawn, 10:34 AM
