’18 A To Z Challenge – Y

Letter Y

I was desperately pondering what word, beginning with the letter Y, to write about. I had yesteryear, yonder, yardstick, and yield, any one of which may still show up this time next year. I thought about Yule, but it’s long past. The Easter Bunny is already hopping over Santa’s sleigh tracks. I told all my yolks, when I published my E For Eggs post, a couple of years ago.

Suddenly it came to me! I should write a post about

You

Crowd

A few of my fans, awed by the magnificence of my prose.

Yes, you, my regular readers, and faithful fans – who have been with me and my blogging, through thick and thin…. Who am I kidding??! When, during the time that I have been blogging, have I ever been thin? It’s been more like thick, and thicker. I’m a little like comedian Gabriel Iglesias – so well-fed that I’m somewhere between FLUFFY and DAMN!

Fortunately for you (and me), my writings benefit greatly from considerable editing. If it were not for the miracles of the word-processing program, the prose that my over-fed, sausage-like fingers (Mmmm – sausages!) typo out, would look like my Back Up A Sec post.

My readers and online guests are important to me all the time after a meal that would have Santa Claus leading a Weight-Watchers intervention raid, but you’re here now, reading my output, and giving me a warm happy feeling – just like a large serving of French fries and gravy.

Since it’s Lent – even though I’m not a Catholic – I hereby vow to give up excessive calorie intake for 40…. minutes. I promise to be back in a couple of days, with a post that’s sleek and svelte, even if I’m not. Thank you, to the visitors who have come here before, and thank you to the ones who will gratify me by continuing to show up later. 😀

 

White Lady Tribute – To And From

One of the presents I received for my birthday last year, was a very creative, satirical poem from White Lady In The Hood, a lovely blogger who is, hopefully temporarily, no longer on the scene.

I’m not sure who or how many got to read it, so I am publishing it this year as a separate post. Here’s her glimpse of who Archon is.  What do you think of it?

 

Tale of the Great Northern Knight

He loosened his pants and girded his loins

for battle he did prepare

He grabbed up his sword and mounted his horse

to defend his queen so fair

Whilst traveling through the land of Kitchener

he gave no heed to danger

For he had the gift of words and prose

and never met a stranger

His fated path crossed Ranty Knight

to which he doth did hail

Archon rambled on and on

(and on )

a great and many tale

Though humble and honest the Knight did speak

twas the day of his creation

Ranty cried out, “Awesomesauce Man!”

tis cause for a great celebration

Pillage these wenches – steal all the bacon

‘tap us a fine keg of ale

I’m of the order of a Free Thinking man

(which means, “Bet your ass we will”)

So feasts were brought forth, a rare coin for a gift

ensuing tales about bravery

Archon was happy on this mighty fine day and

ate a big bowl of taters n gravy

(with cheese curds on top)

****

 

Winter Vacation – Finale

When we checked into the motel on the Friday, one of the first things the son did, was try to open the top dresser drawer.  Perhaps he had a sudden urge to read the Gideons’ Bible.  The front of the drawer just came right off in his hand.

With sleep schedules now totally confounded, the son was asleep shortly after 11 PM Saturday night, while I was still lurking around outside, reading newspapers and doing crossword puzzles in the vending room, and gabbing with the security guard.

Son was up at 7:30, and went over to the office to get yet another tea, while I “slept in” till 8 AM.  Just as he quietly eased the door open at 7:45, the maintenance man fired up the snow blower, right outside the unit.

The son’s OCD shows differently from mine.  Now that we were both awake (Speak for yourself, son and heir.), things should “be done”, we should pack immediately and vacate the premises.  I made toast juice and pills, washing dishes and final packing, last till almost 9.  We visited the office, finalized all paperwork, and offered many thanks to Connie, to be spread among all the nice desk clerks.

The car is loaded; we’re ready to go, and it’s just 9:10.  Finally, the son asks the question he should have thought about before.  What time is this County-Line Trade Center open?  I had hoped that it was at 9 AM, like the Gibraltar Trade Center.  The reason we stayed up here, was to try something new.  I had used the Google Maps overhead view to find that it was an ell-shaped building, about half as big as Gibraltar.

We drove a mile in five minutes and pulled into the parking lot.  There was one snowed-in car, and a half-ton with a plow blade clearing the lot. One wing of the ell is a furniture resale store and a dental office.  The Trade Center is only half as big as I’d hoped and imagined.  The sign on the door says opening is at 10.  We drove back down to last night’s McDonalds, and parked at the back, trying not to get plowed in by the guy clearing their lot.

Finally we drove back up, and the plow jockey unlocked the door, and let a couple of vendors enter.  With no booths open, I got into a conversation with one, about socialized medicine, Obamacare, and a second international bridge, while the son prowled this tiny little microcosm.  One unopen booth shows Saturday hours of noon to 5, and Sunday from 1 till five.  On a Superbowl Sunday, after a significant snowfall, this is not going to get much better.

The Gibraltar center is full of kitsch, “As seen on TV.”  This County-Line place also has lots of stuff seen on TV – if you used to watch Sanford and Son.  The food service area looks like where Sly Stallone got rat burgers in Demolition Man.  There are signs on the doors which say, “All hoods must be removed before entering.” and, “We will provide security escort to your vehicle, but we will not carry merchandise.”

Eleven o’clock – we can’t go home yet.  What do we do??  The son’s paying for the gas; let’s drive 25 miles and go to Gibraltar.  We stopped at a nearby Meijer’s gas bar to fill up.  “Let’s go into the store.”  The son found and bought two big bags of Chili-Cheese potato chips the Meijer’s on the other side of town didn’t carry, and I located and bought two large bottles of McIllhenny’s Chipotle Tabasco Sauce the other store also didn’t have, for the daughter.

Right across the street was a small health food store.  Between it and its larger parent two miles down the road, I found most of the items the big GNC stores didn’t carry, for the niece.  Touchdown, Yay!

The kid and I spent several hours touring Gibraltar, its yummy food court and the gun and knife show they had on the display side.  While I got to caress a Beretta 92 pistol, similar to Rants’ military version, the son found that he likes shotguns.

I got rid of another small pocketful of change to an old veteran, collecting to support other vets, down on their luck.  I saw at least two “girly” guns, one a little .22 caliber varmint plinker for a 12 to 18 year old, the other, a more serious, semi-military style .308, shoot-a-moose, or a trespasser, rifle.  Both were done in camouflage finish – if you were hiding behind Sailor Moon, the darlingest pink and black daubs and lines.

About 3, we decided to head home.  Plows and volume of traffic finally had the roads down to bare and damp.  Since we’d driven south, we decided to cross back, over the bridge.  The same factors which kept people out of the Trade Center, kept them off the bridge.  I again was able to get into a Customs line with only one car ahead of me.

When I was allowed to roll forward, the window of the booth slid open, and I was greeted by a female customs officer.  Not unheard of, but not common on the Canadian side of the Windsor/Detroit crossings.  She smiled at me and said, “Hello/Bonjour.”  “Bonjour,” I replied, “now I know I’m truly back in Canada.”

“Pardon me; could you please pass me a serviette?  I appear to have spilled my poutine.”  Every Canadian knows exactly what that sentence means, but I may have to translate it for my American readers.

A couple of questions for me, and a couple for the son, and we were soon on our way home.  I coulda brought that beautiful Beretta back, and no-one but me would have been any the wiser.  The son called the wife, now that Canadian cell phone towers would carry my Canadian cell phone plan.  We told her we were on our way, and three hours later, we were ordering pizza, after covering 870 Km./555 Mi. over a very enjoyable three-day weekend.  Thanx for reading along with us.    😀

Woot Woot!!

Blog On

I have received another blog award.

  The Goldilocks Award

Actually, it’s the, “You Are A Winner” award, but I like to think of it as the Goldilocks Award because it suits me perfectly.  It’s not too big, or too small.  It’s not too involved or too easy.  Definitely not too hard.  This award requires me to do nothing, and if there’s one thing I am highly qualified to do, it’s nothing.  Finally, an award that fits me perfectly.

I’ve received a variety of blog awards from different people.  This is yet another from one of my favorite bloggers, Benzeknees.  Without actually doing any research, I’m pretty sure that she is the only one who has brightened my day this way more than once.  We may have to be careful that her husband and my wife don’t find out about this ongoing ego massage.

To say that some of us have not been Freshly Pressed is an understatement.  My posts are generally too wordy to achieve that.  This award is just a little pat on the head or the back to let you know that there are readers who appreciate what you publish.

I am not required to do anything with this award except appreciate it, and I certainly do.  It’s a little Nothing – Feel Good award, but it’s amazing how a thing that means so little, means so muchThanx Benze!!  😀

You can accept it or not.  You can display the graphic, as I have, or not.  Remember to stop back here after drinks, to pick up your copy, if you want one.  You need do no other thing, no answering questions, no revealing personal data.  I find that you are subtly expected to pass it on.  Other than a few honorable mentions in my first blog-award acceptance post, I have never strewn these awards like rose petals before a bride.

All that is about to change, ladies and gentlemen!  I am going to pass this award on to a few people whose efforts I have appreciated, with the added thought that I am definitely not the only one.  I worry, even now that I will offend some worthy recipient by forgetting, or not having enough time, energy or technical knowledge to include.

The envelope please – and the winners are….ah, you’re all winners.  Here, in no particular order – oh, wait, WordPress put them in alphabetical order, no favorites.

AFrankAngle  http://afrankangle.wordpress.com/

BrainRants  http://brainrants.wordpress.com/

H E Ellis  http://heellisgoa.com/

John Erickson  http://windycitywonderer.wordpress.com/

Hansi  http://hansishallucinations.wordpress.com/

KayJai  http://kayjai.com/

Lady Ryl  http://ladyryl.wordpress.com/

Linda  http://linda123ainslie.wordpress.com/

Madame Weebles  http://fearnoweebles.wordpress.com/

Sandy Like A Beach  http://sandylikeabeach.wordpress.com/

Shimoniac  http://shimoniac.wordpress.com/

SightsNBytes  http://sightsnbytes.wordpress.com/

Sparklebumps http://sparklebumpsthebookwhore.wordpress.com/

White Lady In The Hood  http://whiteladyinthehood.wordpress.com/

Okay, all you guys take a bow – and equal responsibility for making me what I am.  Then we’ll go for some refreshments.  I’ll provide the poutine, if Rants will spring for beer.