2001-03-02 - 22:13 MST

March 2, 2001

Meandering

What will it be ?

A barrel of poop?

Or a bucket of pee ?

Maybe some other disgusting goop.

Or something pleasant,

Like an under glass pheasant ?

Maybe a warm bar, Dove?

To melt on your arm love ?

In a way that is how today went. We started out to go on an errand to two places. "Well while you are here, I'm going to go across to Michael's in other words while you are doing that I will go do something I forgot about."

Each new place entailed either a stop on the way or a stop between the present one and the next planned place. I am equally guilty, on our way I would beg her to stop, with tears in my eyes on bended knee so that I could get some needed hardware, batteries, light bulbs or whatever.

So we ricocheted back and forth aross our area doing our dingbat thing as the hands of the clock kept going round and round.

I managed to cram my ill temper in my back pocket and remembered to take it out quick before toasted buns were on the menu.

After the last dog has died and been buried and our two little pitiful errands finally accomplished we are sitting in the parking lot of K-Mart, and Heather says to me, "Where shall we grab a bite ?" Translation of that wifely procedure, "Ohhh, I am too tired to cook tonight." After thinking things over a bit I come with a place I know she doesn't like. And Heather says, "Huh unh, not there." I have a mental list of the places she doesn't like, so I push forward another pawn, "What about Joe Blows ?" Heather replies, "Oh no, remember the rotten service there ?" One by one I will advance another piece for her to veto she doesn't want to go to.

At the appropriate time I will ask Heather, "Well, lady where do think would be a good place ?" She thinks a bit and says, "How about KFC ?" I look at the clock on the dash, it leers 5:15 PM at me. Carefully I advance the idea that the KFC in our area at Alameda and Colorado Boulevard is on the Southeast corner of that intersection, and we are East of there, difficult to get to even in the middle of the day. A great similarity there to an ant hill with the top kicked off. At this time of the late afternoon, every working person in town is speeding trying to get home to a sofa and a flip top beer, a well earned traffic ticket, an accident, a ride in an ambulance or a toe tagged trip to the morgue . . . . . which ever might happen first. My idea, spoken like a diplomat, meets with the approval of the hierarchy and she goes into her Heather-dither, coming up with first one and then another and another place, turning each one down for various reasons. Finally she turns to me and asks, "Think you can stand eating at Denny's again ?" I pretend to cogitate and finally say, "Well the Senior meals are not too much for me to eat and the price is right - - - - oh, alright lets go there. At the moment thinking that the toe tagged idea couldn't be so bad. So we ate at Denny's.

Arriving at our apartment complex and parking in the underground I snag a grocery cart (one of the big ones) and bring it to the car and unload the loot from Costco, Safeway, King Soopers plus the Easter candy bought in advance, yadda, yadda, yadda. Buggy loaded, car locked, then came the long uphill trek to the door of the elevator lobby. One of those deals where the closer you get to the door the steeper the grade.

Tonight I almost pled that I was defeated. On the cart are four cases of canned Pepsi, etc., a huge conglomeration of Easter candy - so heavy I can hardly lift it. A gallon of black olives, a huge bottle of Johnsons shampoo. A gallon jar of four bean salad. A gallon jar of ?Pepperoncitos? A gallon of milk, dozen eggs, big loaf of Italian bread, and other stuff I can't quite remember -- just that the buggy was loaded. Right by the door a case of Pepsi slid off the cart and scattered cans on the floor. Good thing they were hooked together or I'd still be chashing them.

The lobby door and I fought, it was almost a tie. Finally with gritted teeth I managed to get the door open and the buggy pushed through. Then up to the apartment to unload the buggy and take it back down.

I told Heather, "The next time you plan an Eightieth birthday party for me, please make sure that I am out of town." Heather bristled a bit until she saw the grin on my face. She said, "What ? You are not going to gripe about the Easter candy ?" My reply, "With as many grand kids and great grandkids as we have, I am wondering if you got enough."

God bless Heather, she builds an Easter basket of goodies for all of our grown kids, their kids and their kid's kids. Just like the Christmas stockings.

So then to my hidey hole to check on the Web antics and a bit of rest.

After a day of Meandering . . . . .

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