Remember the sock?

That’s not like,  “Remember the Alamo” or anything,  which would be in keeping with the sort of “stream of consciousness” type of blather that I sometimes spew.

I’m referring to the well travelled sock of a couple months ago.  Well,  there’s more to the story.   I couldn’t very well relate more of the story at the time,  since the story had yet to unravel,  but stay with me.  

Meanwhile,  I forgot that there’s such a thing as a “search” feature with the blog,  which brought up an immediate result to my “mailing a sock” query.   That is of course,  after I had been flipping through entries ad nauseam. *sigh*  Such a slow learner.

I was debating about sending off the sock,  when the late birthday card showed up.  So fine, you remember that part.  There was €30 in the card.   I found this out much later.  Well,  that €30 is making the rounds it seems.  

I’ll probably mess this up,  since I’m relying on some eaves dropping and my memory here,  but the story goes that Ljuba sent the cash on to Ontario, after I had unwittingly sent it to her in the birthday card with (freshly laundered) sock,  where Daughter Number Two ended up with it (that’s the part of the trail that I’m a bit shaky on)  who then brought it to Vienna when she came over back in June.   Of course,  she took out some more dough when she was here,  which meant she had roughly €30 hanging around when she went back. 

Just this past weekend,   she and her hubby went over to see Daughter Number One to return a borrowed suitcase,  at which point she hauled out €30 and passed it on.   Now,  it’s not THE SAME €30,  but the amount is the same.   So,  that money has gone from Ontario,  Canada to Vienna.   Then back overseas to Vancouver (where they don’t take Euros),  and then back to Ontario,  and now it’s coming back here. 

Kind of like a homing pigeon.

Hey,  breaks up the boredom.

 

 

 

Just stuff I see.

Some sort of boring machine.  OK wait,  by “boring”,  I don’t mean the way I bore you folks,  you know what I mean.   A “boring machine”,  but not one that has ever told a lame joke.

Anyway,  it had that “gear oil” smell?  You know it when you smell it.  It’s very hard to describe.   Crawl under your vehicle,  undo the plug in the differential,  dip in your finger and take a whiff.   That smell.

I have no clue what they were up to,  and hanging around like some nerd in a computer store doesn’t really work for me.

 

That’s not really fair to the computer nerds out there I know.  We need you.  Don’t get upset.

It’s hard to come up with a non-insulting analogy there.  I could tell about my ole man,  and how he could walk up to a complete stranger using draught horses,  and start talking like they were old friends.  In the case of my Mom and I,  since we would be left sitting in the car,  we’d look at each other with that, “Oh cripes,  here he goes again”,  kind of look.   You know, that “knowing” look?   So no,  I wasn’t about to stop and hang around to watch what they were going do,  all wide eyed and goofy like.   Nothing to see here.  Just keep moving.

 

 

And here we have,  “Memories”.  Or something like that. 

 

These are things that would go unnoticed by most people,  but as they were tools of my former “trade”,  I do notice.

Wet vac.  Pads for a floor machine,  and cleaning solution.  Is it sad that I notice these things?  Maybe. 

 

Oh,  and now we finally see the front of the building they’ve been working on ALL SUMMER LONG.  Oy.

I still gave it a wide berth this morning just the same.  Still though, it’ll be nice to go to the parking garage without getting buffeted with dust,  loud noise or the reminder of just how much fun it is to have a porta potty right there on the sidewalk.  Wuf.

 

And then of course,  I have to mention the heat wave.

 

Even though it’s really and truly sucks to be levelling out asphalt most any day in the summer time,  I don’t think the performers in Salzburg had any clue when they were training all those years to become professionals,  that they’d have to withstand 58°C on stage, out in the “Midday Sun”.  Jumpin’!

That’s toasty kids!

I’m going to convert that one for you,  just for effect.   That’s 136.4°F.  Does it get that hot in Texas?  Arizona? 

I recall being in Vegas once upon a time in October (which is when all the “Silver Hairs” go,  so I’ve heard)  and it was getting up there, maybe close to 100°,  but all you had to do was step into the shade,  since it was a “dry heat”.   I don’t think there was any shade for those performers on stage.

 

I just had a “noonday Sun” thought…

There’s a Vegas segue here,  if you care to take a listen:

 

 

 

It’s almost the afternoon here,  and I haven’t had to close up and put on the air,  since there’s a bit of a breeze,  and it’s slightly overcast.   Give it a couple hours though.   We actually have something that I think I’m going to have to start referring to as “Humidity”.   The horror!   Can’t “chew” it yet,  like the kind of oppressive stuff we get in Ontario,  but it’s out there.   Very odd for Vienna.   We don’t get humidity.  Well,  at least not anything worth mentioning.

Sure hope you’re comfy,  wherever you are.

 

Thanks for stopping on by.

 

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