Tuesday, August 03, 2004
At a bright and sunny 5 p.m., a fat raccoon pair waddled across the driveway of the new house like they owned the place. In fact they started to make themselves quite comfortable underneath my parked Audi (intrigued as they were that it wasn't an SUV I'm sure). "Git! Shoo!" I said and then jangled my car keys for good measure. This prompted a slow and petulant waddle on their part to the nearest tree. The female began her ascent but the male paused to look me squarely in the eye. To establish dominance you must establish eye contact and stare your opponent down until it acquiesces. Or so I had read. I stared. The raccoon looked bemused. Certainly not intimidated. "Chill,' it seemed to say.
Chill? Sure. How about you try juggling a potpourri of contractors, carpenters, electricians, plumbers, landscapers, painters, bankers, brokers and online suppliers between Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C (all three of which are ad lib and fluid at any given moment depending on the thermodynamic conditions of the day). I exaggerate. I love ordering all of these people around and to be honest I think I missed my calling as a Dominatrix.
The kids have never moved before and just don't understand the concept of what moving means. "We're moving Thursday," I remind them. "OK so we'll pack Thursday." "But you have at least two days worth of packing ahead..." And then there is hubby (bless his soul for he certainly meant well) who killed my computer. It can't be resuscitated at all and I lost a good chunk of my writing. " And then both kids go off to college at the end of the month and so there's that. Heh when Anna Bloviations stirs up the pot, she doesn't mess around!
"What are you doing?" the son asks as he passes me en route to the kitchen. "Spackling." "Spackling?" "Yes, spackling the nail holes." "Why?" "Because I want to leave the house nice for the next people." "Here is the box I packed," he says. "It's only half full with trophies," I say.. "You could put lots more in there." "You told me to pack my trophies Mom." Right...
I start growling and move menacingly toward the male raccoon. Who doesn't budge. Hmmm, a rabid raccoon perhaps? I glower and rattle my keys again until it finally vamooses. "I've got a whip with your name on it buddy..."
Chill? Sure. How about you try juggling a potpourri of contractors, carpenters, electricians, plumbers, landscapers, painters, bankers, brokers and online suppliers between Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C (all three of which are ad lib and fluid at any given moment depending on the thermodynamic conditions of the day). I exaggerate. I love ordering all of these people around and to be honest I think I missed my calling as a Dominatrix.
The kids have never moved before and just don't understand the concept of what moving means. "We're moving Thursday," I remind them. "OK so we'll pack Thursday." "But you have at least two days worth of packing ahead..." And then there is hubby (bless his soul for he certainly meant well) who killed my computer. It can't be resuscitated at all and I lost a good chunk of my writing. " And then both kids go off to college at the end of the month and so there's that. Heh when Anna Bloviations stirs up the pot, she doesn't mess around!
"What are you doing?" the son asks as he passes me en route to the kitchen. "Spackling." "Spackling?" "Yes, spackling the nail holes." "Why?" "Because I want to leave the house nice for the next people." "Here is the box I packed," he says. "It's only half full with trophies," I say.. "You could put lots more in there." "You told me to pack my trophies Mom." Right...
I start growling and move menacingly toward the male raccoon. Who doesn't budge. Hmmm, a rabid raccoon perhaps? I glower and rattle my keys again until it finally vamooses. "I've got a whip with your name on it buddy..."
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