I am married to the Gumpmeister. It is from him that I often get my inspiration to;

  1. Write this blog
  2. Drink heavily
  3. Join the Foreign Legion

Poor old Gump has not been very reliable for my inspiration lately, as he is seldom home. On the odd occasion that he actually remembers where he lives, he’ll spend most of his time either snoring, or dozing off while watching any WW2 documentary or sci-fi show on T.V. – even the tomato patch can’t lure him outside like it used to. The only thing that really gets his attention is peach cobbler (I made a total of 4 of the blasted things with Porter peaches) a new recipe for biscuits (yes, I made those too) any Mexican dish I cook – are you noticing a pattern here? – oh….and You Tube.

It’s so odd to pair Gump with You Tube. One would imagine a teenager watching Rhianna videos, or someone at least on the sunny side of twenty. But Gump? It’s his latest addiction, and I must take full responsibility for that.

It began one evening when I’d shown him a video from Facebook (yes, I admit to being a user) of this random guy at a concert dancing brilliantly to Bruno Mars – and that was all she wrote. From that dancing video, to New Zealand Hakas, best Voice auditions, best of Americas Got Talent auditions, and finally the BBC news, Gump has become a You Tube junkie. This is such a departure from the fishing, hillbilly guy I call Gomer Pyle (Gump actually uses the word ‘jeepers’ in his everyday language). But I guess it’s better than him watching Alaskan fishing shows, or science fiction. Although nothing will ever take the place of Meet the Press, even a peach cobbler.

But now thankfully the peaches are gone, and Gump is back on his diet. This means that he eats incredibly large amounts of food between 5 am. and 3pm. and ‘skips’ dinner. Therefore I do not have to ‘cook’ dinner every day, but provide healthy alternatives like yogurt, just in case he is starving at night.

When he combines this with regular work-outs, Gump actually drops a few pounds. But he’s working so much that he hasn’t got much time to devote to the gym, and tries instead to work out at home. Kudos to him for all the effort, I can’t knock him for that. What is amazing is how a 62 year old man’s mood swings can rival that of my own post-menopausal moods. Sort of like rubbing two pieces of sandpaper together really. He is hungry, tired and irritable, I can’t eat bread (my main staple) drink alcohol, and live with a grumpy Gump. Cantankerous doesn’t even begin to describe us.

Fortunately, I am headed home to the UK soon, so Gump will have a bit of a breather for these reasons:

  • He will be able to work even more than he already does without getting into trouble by yours truly.
  • He will be allowed to watch Guardians of the Galaxy 1 & 2 as many times as he wants to, without me complaining.
  • He can eat unsupervised amounts of cheese.
  • He will not have to exit a room when he has gas.
  • He can go to Lowe’s unsupervised….and Costco too.

The problem I have with leaving Gump is that he is rather like Mr. Magoo. He only sees what hits him in the face, and is really forgetful (unless it is about fishing or sci-fi). I have already started writing lists to leave when I am gone, so that he won’t forget to lock doors, water plants and throw away old food. If he has any appointments, I literally have to stick signs on the front door so that he will see them every day and finally lodge them in his brain. He is very famous for missed appointments, and I have to admit that makes me feel better not being the only one he forgets. If any of you see him while I am away, please ask him if he has any appointments to remember…….

I just got back from a short stay in St. Louis. We Brits pronounce it as Saint Louiee, because although we dislike the French (it goes way back), it wouldn’t be cricket to mispronounce their language.

In America, you always sound out the ‘s’ at the end of a French word, even when it is a name. For example – locally, we have a place called Verdigris, I pronounce it Verdigree. Funnily enough though, if the word is Indian, we swap what we do. You say Arkansaw, I always said Ar Kansas, Houston to Brits is Hooston. Took me several years to figure out the ‘accepted’ way to enunciate all these places.

Poor old Gump was lonely while I was gone. This is highly unusual. Most times I leave town, it takes him a few days to notice my absence. I believe it might have been due to the fact that he had a birthday approaching, his 62nd. I rationalized, as we age we become more dependent upon our partners, as we were dependent on our parents as children. This seems to be more prevalent in older men, which, for we women, couldn’t be better. You guys are playing right into our hands….insert evil laugh.

Upon my return, Gump had bought me flowers….gasp…not just any flowers, but my favourites – tulips. I was aghast, I was thrilled and I was also wondering how long the welcome would last. Roughly forty-eight hours. One date night, a birthday, and a load of laundry later, it was as though I had never left.

Date nights. We never have them, okay perhaps one a year. But this new and improved Gump was in rare form. He called me as he drove home from work before 6pm (blimey) and invited me out to dinner. I even got to pick. This in itself is unusual, because we always go somewhere where there is an abundance of cheese. Mexican/pizza/Mexican. I chose The Cheesecake Factory – I am so cunning. It worked.

I like to go there for……pork chops. You can keep the cheesecakes (ick) I’m all about the pig, oh and the bread….LOVE the bread….the one place I’ll eat it even though I am not supposed to. The place was absolutely jam-packed, but we were lucky to get a seat in the bar area, and have a very distracted waitress.

I LOVE to eat somewhere other than home – I get really tired of cooking, mostly because it’s such a treat to eat something that you didn’t have to buy/prepare/cook/clean-up yourself. It was great! Gump drank his girlie margarita (they always put it in front of me as I’m the girl) and we stuffed ourselves silly like ticks. We even had a great chat on the drive back, and got home without one disagreement (other than his slooow driving) to find our house in complete darkness…..crap…..ugh.

There was no storm, there was no wind and there was no power.

Flashlight hunts, candle searches and we were ok. Quite romantic really right? We’d had a great dinner, so no cooking needed. And we were sitting together in a quiet candlelit home, just the place for….the neighbours to come over to see if our power was out.

Apparently they had locked themselves out, and asked if they could come in to kill time until the power was restored. Their rambunctious great-grandaughter (who they are raising because they are wonderful people) came along as well, and then proceeded to show us her gymnastic/ballet movements for what seemed like a very long time…..she’s a sweet kid, but pretty ‘outgoing’. Gump seemed quiet, and I knew he was tired, and full of a good dinner.

Eventually, the neighbours gave-up waiting, and left to go to a family member’s house who had light and air-conditioning. Can’t say that I blame them. I returned to the calm, quiet, candle-lit den to resume my date night. Gump was fast asleep. Head back, mouth open, in the Land of Nod….Bugger. I took my flashlight and my iPad and went to bed.

The power came back on at midnight, and that woke Gump up, who extracted himself from the den and came to bed, waking me up in the process. As he snored, I lay there listening to big storm that had rolled in, and commented on how ferocious and odd the thunder sounded even though Gump wasn’t listening.

The next morning, we awoke to find that a tornado had hit a few miles away, and thousands were without power. We however, were not. It struck us both how strange that was, to lose power before the storm, yet have it afterwards when so many did not. Our date night was altogether very odd indeed.

Fortunately, no one lost their lives in the tornado, but so many were affected by its damage. Oklahoma might be in tornado alley, but it doesn’t make it any easier for people coping with the aftermath of a bad storm. Especially when they are never anticipated in August! My thoughts go out to all of you who sustained damage that night.

Back in Gumpworld our life goes on. This is a special time for Gump and all you other sci-fi guys too. Like most of you astronomers out there, Gump is beside himself with excitement about the upcoming Solar Eclipse on the 21st. I bought what was possibly the last two pairs of eclipse glasses in Oklahoma two days ago, and Gump is chomping at the bit to drive five hours to anywhere in Missouri to watch the eclipse for a few minutes, and then drive five hours back home.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime event he claims! And I am a big enough wally that I’ll drive for ten hours in one day to see this eclipse with him, right by his side – even though I can’t get him to drive twenty minutes across town to go to a movie.

Oh well, at least we’re doing something together right? Hey, maybe we can call it a date………….

jude