Tag: story

It’s springtime in North Texas

Bluebonnets are blooming everywhere.

They are spectacular.

People are posing with the flowers and posting pics.

The images are lovely.

But I don’t get it.

How can people traipse into the middle of a field and not get eaten alive by fire ants?

Just the other day I was at the park, and I counted 25 ant hills from where I was standing.

Which means, of course, that there must be thousands of ant hills beyond that spot.

Don’t other people get bitten?

Or is it just me?

The bluebonnets are spectacular.

But I’m keeping my feet on the pavement.

Stupid ants.

Our friends are in the middle of a massive home reconstruction project.

They are living in a tiny corner of their home while the rest of the house is in shambles.

Recently, late at night, they heard their cat crying out.

But they couldn’t find Fluffy.

Had they accidentally left him outside?

Was he locked in one of the closed-off rooms?

Fluffy? Where’s Fluffy?

Using flashlights, they searched the construction zone.

Finally, they solved the mystery.

Fluffy was trapped inside of a newly-built wall.

They had to cut a hole to let him out.

In the morning, they had to explain the hole to their contractor.

Who laughed so hard that he cried.

And immediately texted pictures to all of his builder friends.

He wasn’t even mad that he had to redo the wall.

I guess that’s one way to celebrate National Hairball Awareness Day.

Today is National Hairball Awareness Day.

Seriously?

We need a national holiday for that?

Why?

How do you celebrate National Hairball Awareness Day?

What kind of food to you prepare?

What do you wear to the party?

What activities do you plan?

This holiday is way too stressful.

I’ll take Taco Tuesday any day over National Hairball Awareness Day.

I instinctively know what to do on Taco Tuesday.

This is why I’m not a cat person.

Here we go again!

In February we had Snowmageddon.

With no power or water for days.

In March we had hail.

Baseball-sized hail with lots of property damage.

And now, in April, we have had another hailstorm.

This time the hail was much smaller than baseballs.

But the storm was relentless.

In the light of day, there doesn’t appear to be major damage in the neighborhood.

The trees and fences are still standing, and the rooftops appear intact.

The roofer is coming back to re-inspect our newly-installed roof.

Our truck is currently at the body shop being fixed up from the last storm.

I imagine if there is any damage from the new storm, their liability insurance will cover it.

That’s the third strike, Mother Nature.

You’re out.

I needed some change to tip my dog groomer.

I stopped at the QT on the corner to break a 20.

I was going to buy a pack of gum.

But then I saw the corn nuts.

I haven’t had corn nuts in years.

Oh, I used to love corn nuts.

I remembered a wonderful, tasty indulgence.

However, it soon became apparent that corn nuts haven’t aged well.

Or perhaps it’s me that hasn’t aged well.

I didn’t make this unfortunate discovery until I’d finished the entire lot.

It’s going to be a long and regretful day.

But at least I’ve got some cash to tip the groomer.

There were some robins in the Vitex trees outside my kitchen door.

They were brilliantly and spectacularly bright red.

I watched them, enchanted, for quite some time.

And then it hit me.

Old people watch birds.

I am watching birds.

Crap.

This is how it ends, isn’t it?