Mostly True Memoirs
There are no tornadoes on a Wednesday afternoon.
Just tornado sirens.
It’s the rule.
I learned a new expression in Spanish today in the line at the grocery store.
The old guy in front of me had on a shirt with a Spanish phrase.
Underneath, it said, “you are my friend.”
The woman behind me said, “That’s not what that means.”
“You’re right,” I said, “That doesn’t mean ‘friend’.”
“I think it means ‘jerk’.”
“Let’s Google it.”
The old guy protested his innocence.
He swore he didn’t know what it meant.
But he was cracking up.
And he spoke with a Spanish accent.
His sincerity was questionable.
By this time the clerk was interested.
So were the rest of the folks in line.
It turns out that the phrase does not mean “you are my friend.”
Not even close.
But we all had a good laugh.
And now I learned a new expression in Spanish.
We paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled.
And then realized that we had to row back in.
It was windy and hot and uphill in every direction.
I lost my will to live somewhere around the Palo Pinto Dam.
It sank right to the bottom of the lake.
When we returned, we had a cold beer and a hot meal waiting for us.
So it was all good.
If anyone ever finds my will to live out there, just reel it in, and I’ll come and pick it up.
But maybe not with the kayaks.
We are having unseasonably cool weather here in DFW.
Meanwhile, back in my hometown in So Cal, they are suffering a sizzling heat wave.
It’s cooler here in Texas than it is on the coast.
If any of you overheated beach folk need to escape that heat, y’all can come out here and visit me.
We’re having unseasonably cool weather here in Texas.
It’s wrong to laugh at the misfortunes of others.
I know, I know, I KNOW!
Today I was at the pharmacy.
With two diabetic kids, I am always at the pharmacy.
I was making my purchase at the counter when an angry and belligerent young man rushed up.
He was yelling and pounding his fists and making a scene.
He was furious because the pharmacy was out of pregnancy tests.
The clerk and I looked at each other and started to laugh.
So we both looked away.
I’m sure that the pharmacy staff has been trained to never laugh at the customers.
I, on the other hand, have had no such training.
And now I really want to know why there has been a run on pregnancy tests.
If I get struck by lightening any time soon, it will be because I laughed at the misfortunes of others.
On our drive across the country,
we took an unscheduled detour to Taos, New Mexico.
What a beautiful little city!
Unfortunately, I developed a bloody nose that lasted two days.
It wasn’t a bad one.
Just a slow, annoying drip.
I’m certain it was caused by the altitude.
Bob suggested that maybe it was the attitude.
My road trip companion thinks he’s a comedian.
I am now in a position to offer sage advice.
I had a birthday this week.
I am older and wiser.
Don’t ever place a plastic dish on a pre-heated cast-iron griddle and then busy yourself with other things.
You will regret it.
The smell will scar your brain.
I’m not saying that I actually did this incredibly stupid thing.
I’m just offering some sage advice…
The tornado sirens were going off.
We had plenty of warning.
This storm was predicted.
We had blankets and pillows.
A leash for the dog.
Extra cables and batteries for the phones.
An ax and a crowbar in case we need to claw our way out.
I even made a point to wear shoes and socks instead of flip flops.
In case of rubble.
But there was one thing that I hadn’t prepared for.
My socks were the kind that sagged under my feet with every step.
This is going to seriously impede any kind of rescue effort.
I don’t know which is worse – sock bumps or tornadoes.
At any rate, the storm passed over us without incident.
My first plan of action was to change my socks.
Now I’m ready for the next round of tornado sirens.
A frog was in my kitchen.
We’ve had our share of pests in the house.
Ants, of course.
Spiders, flies, moths and mosquitoes.
An occasional cricket.
Once we even had a mouse.
But this morning I had a first.
I was so shocked that I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
It was a frog.
A frog was in my kitchen.
It was huge and brown and ugly.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream.
Or to kiss it.
It was as big as my fist, so squishing it wasn’t even an option.
And catching it seemed a little creepy.
OK, a LOT creepy.
Luckily, it was a smart frog.
I opened the back door, and it seemed to sense its opportunity.
It headed right toward the fresh air and hopped outside.
That’s one Texas-sized crisis that was averted.