Conversations.

First of all, if I may,  I’d like to recreate for you a brief snippet of a conversation we had a couple weeks back.

Travelling Companion motions to the snow shovel standing idly by on the balcony.

“You’re not taking that home”

Me: “Wha?”

“That snow shovel.  It’s stupid.  It’s not meant for real snow.  Just leave it behind”.

*Thinks to self*,  “OK well,  I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

See,  I hadn’t really given it much thought, since the idea of “going home”  is still a long ways off.  So then, what would be the proper rejoinder to this type of well,  suggestion?   I mean,  I can see where,  with the right temperament,   (and by “right” I don’t mean correct either.  I mean the right volatile temperament?)  a knock down drag out type of fight could ensue,  but it’s just a shovel.  Not worth the words.   I’ve actually sat and witnessed couple fight over less.  Totally mystifying I might add.

And yes,  it is stupid.  I mean the shovel,  but fighting over it would be too.   But when I had to break down and buy a snow shovel when we lived in the Netherlands,  it was what they had.   And it was cheap.   You think I’m gonna spend €30 on a snow shovel when I could have something perfectly adequate for €9?  Hello?

Not making a career choice here.

Besides,  since this conversation,  I’ve had to actually used the damned thing.  

I know there were some Canucks back home who were pining for some snow.  Can you believe that?  I’ve never been,  nor shall I ever be one to look out longingly at the bare grass in the middle of January and wish for snow.   Well,  maybe briefly just before I put a bullet in my brain,  but that would be the only time.   Besides,  if that were my choice for decorating the landscape,  I’d use a tarp.  It’s just more considerate to think of the poor coroner who has to clean up is all.   But snow?   Um.  No.  

 

 

******

 

There was a question yesterday about what I’d be doing,  now that Travelling Companion is in the U.K. for the week.  Well,  pretty much what I do most every day,  with the exception of having to make dinner.  

Today,  and don’t laugh,  I did some sewing.  This isn’t a hobby.  And it’s not necessarily about being cheap,  although that would be a convincing argument.   Like when I used to darn my socks rather than pitch them out at the first sign of wearing through the toes as a result of wearing steel toed boots.   Eventually I just bought better socks,  and now when I get a hole in the toe,  I just say,  “Oh darn”,  and throw them out. 

Still bugs me though,  to throw out what otherwise would be a perfectly serviceable pair of socks.   Just for one tiny little hole.   But,  I have many more where they came from.

No,  this was a pillow case.  

See,  a few days ago,  in my zeal to zip up a freshly changed pillow case,  I managed to pull the little “zipper closer thingy” right off the end of the zipper.  Drat!   Was that enough “zipping” sounds for you? 

Turns out that all that was keeping me from doing this was a few ever weakening threads.   Either that,  or I don’t know my own strength.  I think we’ll stick with the threads theory.

Before I continue though,  I have to point out that well,  *ahem*,  my wife has a bit of a “problem”.   See,  it all started with 200 thread count,  and that was way back in the 80s.   It’s not like a cocaine habit or anything,  where you start with maybe doing a line once in a while,  and then pretty soon you’re into dept to some shady characters who’ve had no problem lending you a couple hundred thou to maintain your habit.   Nothing as drastic as that. That would suck.

No,  I’m just talking about what she spends on bedding.  I’ll readily admit that there is a somewhat dreamy sensation of sliding into a freshly made bed bedecked with Egyptian Cotton.  (Hey man,  that shit is like 600 count,  you know what I mean?)  So yes, maybe I’m an enabler in that sense? 

There,  I said it. 

I like the high end stuff too,  and have actually found myself commenting on any bed made up where the sheets have a thread count lower than 200.  
Thread count snobs!  Ha! 

Hey,  it sucks to get old,  so lighten up!

 

So when I pooched the pillow case last week,  there was no damned way it was going by the wayside.   I had to figure out how to fix it.  Zipper?  Sewing?  Gah!

 

That “blanket” you see there, taking up a good one quarter of the bed,  is actually the pillow case in question.   Something to do with Laura Ashley,  who ever she is.  It’s not presently on a pillow,   since this week’s theme is brown.  Last week we did the green.    Next week,  who knows?

I’ll admit that I don’t actually know how much was paid for these bed,  er I mean pillow cases,  but this is the type of information that is probably best kept from me.

So there you have it,  one of my little projects for today.  Wasn’t that hard.  Probably took me longer to find a needle and thread.  Well,  that and getting the stupid little “zipper closer thingy”  back on the end of the busted zipper.    Damn,  that was frustrating!    You can bet your bippy that I put enough loops of thread through each end of that zipper such that it will wear out long before it ever comes apart again.   Just saying.

 

There were a couple other little things,  but I won’t bore you any worse than I have already.

 

Oh,  and “Dear”?  in case you’re reading this?   I did eat the salad.   It was wonderful.   I’ll eat the rest tonight.  Thanks.

Sleep tight.

 

Thanks y’all, for stopping by.

 

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