A Letter From Momma

Dear Son:

Just a few lines to let you know I’m still alive.  I’m writing slowly because I know that you can’t read fast.  You won’t know the house when you come home….we’ve moved.  I won’t be able to send you the address, because the Newfy family that lived here before, took the house numbers with them so that they wouldn’t have to change their address.

About your Father….he now has a new job.  He has five hundred people under him.  He’s cutting the grass in the cemetery.

There was a washing machine in the house when we moved in, but it isn’t working very good.  Last week I put 14 shirts into it and pulled the chain and haven’t seen the shirts since.

Your sister Mary had a baby today.  I haven’t heard if it’s a boy or a girl, so I don’t know whether you’re an aunt or an uncle.

Your other sister Margaret was pregnant, but had an abortion because she wasn’t sure the baby was hers.  The doctor thought it might be twins, but she’s never been on a double-date.

I had a hysterectomy last week because I don’t want any more grand-children.

Your Uncle Dick drowned last week in a vat of whiskey in a Dublin distillery.  Some of his fellow workers dove in to save him, but he fought them off bravely.  We cremated the body and it took three days to put out the fire.

Your father didn’t have much to drink at Christmas.  I put a bottle of castor oil in his pint of beer.  It kept him going till New Year’s Day.  I went to the doctor on Thursday and your father came with me.  The doctor put a small tube in my mouth and told me not to open it for ten minutes.  Your father offered to buy it from him.

It only rained twice last week.  Once for three days and the other time for four days.  Monday it was so windy that one of our chickens laid the same egg four times.

We had a letter from the undertaker.  He said that if we don’t come up with the last installment on your grandmother’s grave, up she comes!

I have to quit writing for now as I just broke my typewriter.  I don’t know what is wrong with it.  It just jammed up.

 

Your Loving Mother.

 

P.S.  I was going to send you $20.00 but I had already sealed the envelope.

9 Q

i-am-part-of-the-family-award

In her ongoing spree of blog-awards distribution, Benzeknees insisted that I also qualified for the “I Am A Part Of The WordPress Family Award”.  I am so glad that some family would take me in.  If it weren’t for the insurance to pay off the mortgage, I think the kids would do what Benze’s blog suggests.  “I got a dog for your Father.  Good trade Mom!”  I see no signs that this is anything like the Manson family, there’s a little drool here and there, but no blood, or the Wallenda Family.  I mean, I like heights, but that no-net thing is crazier than even I am.

THE RULES FOR THE AWARD ARE:

  1.  Display the award logo on your blog.
  2.  Link back to the person who nominated you.
  3.  Nominate 10 others you see as having an impact on your WordPress experience and family.
  4.  Let your 10 Family members know you have awarded them.

Okay, ta-dah!  See the shiny thing at the top of the page?  Number one rule tooken care of!  I am so proud of me!

Unless senility has caught up to me, I’ve linked to Benze’s site.  If you haven’t already, you should go have a look.  Being the mannerly, well-brought-up hick that I am, I’m also throwing in a great big Thank-You to her, for honoring me like this.

Oh-oh, number three and I’m in trouble!  I’m just not the chain-letter kind of guy. The buck stops here – because I’m too lazy to push it any farther.  Every blogger whose posts I read on a (semi)regular basis, has had a positive impact on my WordPress experience and family.  You guys, who are mostly girls, have provided me with friendship, guidance, support, training, education and humor.  I can only hope that, to the limits of my abilities, I have done the same for you.

Okay, no top ten Most-Wanted list to post.  Before I get all teary-eyed, maybe I can distract you with a bit of song and dance.  How about some Question and Answer??!  Maybe even I can discover something about the mysterious inner workings of The Archon.

Know-Me Blog Quiz

    1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
    2. What 5 things are on your To-Do list?
    3. What are 5 snacks you enjoy?
    4. Name some things you would do if you were a millionaire:
    5. Name some places you have lived:
    6. Name some bad habits you have:
    7. Name some jobs you have had:  
  1.  I was working my ass off, trying to get through the last of over a half a century of working my ass off.  I was just finding out that some already overpaid dickhead had over-extended and almost bankrupted the company, but was going to get a two-million dollar bonus for cutting costs by putting me and 400 friends out of work after I’d put in twenty years of faithful service, so that, at the age of 63, I could go looking for another, even more physical job.   Bitter much??!  Angostura’s got nothing on me.  (Run-on sentence care of Sandylikeabeach’s training.)
  2. Number two and number four have to be joined at the hip.  We’ve done many interesting and, for us, exciting things, but the decreased income of retirement puts restrictions on what is possible.  Travel would be high on the list.  A cruise or several, as long as the power stays on and the toilets flush.  I would like to see ancestral lands in Scotland.  Allergies and breathing problems deny air travel to the wife.  Maybe we could take a ship over.  If I had millions, I’d find a warm place in the south to at least winter in.  Actually getting to meet blog-friends sounds enjoyable.
  3. The snacks that I enjoy are the ones with the word “Snack” in them.  I have to watch my girlish figure, because we have too much, too many, snacks in the cupboard near the TV room.  Plain style chips have to be off-brands for the extra grease and salt.  I don’t care for rippled chips, even flavored ones, without dip.  Peanuts, smokehouse or candied almonds, roasted pumpkin seeds and cheese twists.  I’m not much into sweets, although we have plain dark chocolate, and dark chocolate with cherries, toffee bits or orange flavor.  Last year I got 12 Cadbury Easter Crème eggs.  This year the wife bought me 24.  I’m rationing them, one a week again, plus we have maple sugar candies from the Mennonites at the Farmers’ Market.
  4. See number two, above.  Also bigger, better TV, DVR, computer, tablet, and another Kobo, and somebody to build shelves for more books.
  5. I was born and raised, and lived my first 18 years in the small town of Southampton, Ontario.  I moved to the small city of Barrie, Ontario for about a year.  I came to the mid-size city of Kitchener, Ontario, and have been here about 48 years.
  6. Bad habits??!  I can’t afford bad habits!  If I were any less exciting, someone would have to water me twice a week.  I have never smoked, so I didn’t have to quit.  I can handle reality, so I don’t do drugs.  Medications maybe, but no drugs.  I’m not a total abstainer, but I’m down to a beer a month, and maybe some occasional Mead with some hot apple cider, or a Crème de Menthe after a large meal.  Lack of social drive, coupled with procrastination.
  7. If you link back to Archon’s Exciting Work Life, Jan. 27/13, you’ll get a whole sob story about my work life.  I’ll be posting another soon, about what I worked at before it became official.

Benzeknees has expressed an interest in my back-story.  Since she donated the award, I felt it was the least I could do.  If I’ve bored the rest of you, I apologize.

Strange To Be Headed Home

No-one can sleep late in a motel.  All the early risers wake those who wish to sleep-in a bit.  On the morning of our third and last day in Detroit, the son and I had juice and pills, packed our stuff, double-checked the room, loaded the car and checked out by 11 AM.

Normally, we would have returned the plastic pass-keys.  The electronic code on the door is changed, so you can’t use them to get back in later, and they cost the motel less than a dollar to replace.  This time however, instead of two white cards, with “Red Roof Inn” imprinted on them, we got one advertising Hungry Howie’s restaurant chain, with the telephone number of the new one up the street near the Tim Hortons.  I’ve seen them in Florida, but I guess they’re moving north.

Corporate America never misses a chance to promote itself.  Recently someone commented that, soon, they’ll have advertising in washrooms.  Sorry old fellow.  Even out here in the boonies, I’ve seen ads above urinals for twenty years.  Some of the newer places have even installed flat-screen monitors above, beside, or even in, washroom mirrors.

After we ate our bacon breakfasts, and watched the floor show at Denny’s, we drove a couple of miles up the side road to gas the car up, ready for the trip home.  Here in Canada, it’s unusual to see even two-tenths of a cent/liter difference in price between nearby stations.  In Detroit, we saved 9 cents/Am. gal. by driving two miles off the interstate.

The Gibraltar Trade Center sits right beside I-75.  We returned and went in.  The son hasn’t been there for ten years, so he was more interested than I was.  He found, and I purchased, the last pancake batter pitcher they had, that the wife told us to keep an eye out for.

I’ve been through the place maybe twenty times.  I’m getting bored with it.  I saw a TV ad for another Trade Center, further north, that we may try next time the wife and I go down.  It also has a Red Roof nearby, I-94 access, and less driving south, then north, to get to the knife show.

We wandered the main floor for a couple of hours, then had some late lunch.  Sadly, my lack of physical labor in retirement has cut down the amount I can eat.  All I had room for was a plate of chilli-cheese nachos.  All that great food available, and nowhere to put it.  The bridge said “Thanks!”

We paid our way into the gun and knife show in the show area and looked at some interesting firearms.  We each were allowed to handle a “Dirty Harry” .44 Magnum pistol, and a huge .50 caliber handgun.  Special note to RCMP officer’s wives who might read this; none of them managed to follow us home, and we left all anti-social tendencies at the border, for the Americans.

At both shows, all entrants were given a half-sheet printed notice which read; ATTENTION CUSTOMERS: When bringing firearms into a Gun and Knife Show, please follow these simple steps:  Bring firearm in with no ammo in firearm (no exceptions). Have firearm inspected and safety-strapped by security at entrance.  We will not allow firearms to be unloaded at door.  They must be unloaded prior to entering the facility.  There simply is no room for error in a show of this size.  This policy is for the safety of all.

Finally, about 4 o’clock, we climbed into the car, got our snacks and drinks for the drive arranged, dug out American money for bridge-fare, and our passports, and headed back to the sane side of the river.  Late Sunday afternoon, the bridge didn’t seem busy, but when we exited to the customs plaza, all 18 lanes were backed up.  Still, the lines moved well.  We didn’t creep forward for more than ten minutes.

We each delivered our well-rehearsed lines about how long we’d been gone, and how much we were bringing back, to a happy, overly-polite Canadian Customs official, and were soon on the highway heading home.

If all goes well, with the wife’s assistance, I’m including some photos, and possibly a video of the big wind-turbines we took last October, as well as a shot of what Heaven looks like from the Canadian side.

Wind Turbine

 

SDC10326

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SDC10346