Hello again everyone. Another week draws to a close, and I am so ashamed to tell you that I have not lost a single ounce since my last post….I could make many excuses, and they would be good excuses, but the truth is I have maintained this illustrious weight due solely to the fact that I have stuffed everything covered in chocolate down my gaping and fat neck. “Oh say it ain’t so!” I hear you cry, but alas it is so, I have failed you this week by not sticking to a diet and exercise plan (chewing should really count as a work out)…but hey, that’s what weeks are for, there are plenty left this year, so I’ll try again! Guess that explains why Jenny Craig hasn’t come knocking on my door……but my God I would make a great spokeperson for Cadbury’s!
Well my week started off with a bang – literally – the bang of the front of my lovely car hitting a KIA on my way to work. Yup, I can highly recommend having a wreck right at the first of the week; it sort of sets the tone for your mood. Frankly, I am rather surprised that
1. I’m still married
2. That Gump has all his limbs, because I have fought the desire to rip a couple of them off all week.
So at time of print, I have a car which I wrecked in the shop, and the ‘back-up’ car is also in the shop too. Uncanny timing due to the fact that the Gumpster didn’t take it in 2 weeks ago when it wouldn’t start. Amazing, we are a three car family with two in the shop…..that’s what happens when you marry a geologist. Now we get to share his truck. Oh it’s lovely, more time together than we are used to having, perfect when you are in the mood I have been in…..oh well, the upside is I get to keep his vehicle for my use, it’s great to drive, but parking the bloody thing is like trying to park the Titanic in a swimming pool..
With all the car drama, it reminded me that men are pretty useless really aren’t they? Oh and they are smelly too…their socks….their bathrooms….and of course mustn’t forget that Sam the dog is a male too – and he does stink. You may recall my fascinating blog of last week, when I took the offensive and pongy canine to the vets to find out why he is making my toes curl. Apparently he has severe allergies (duh) but all of his scratching had given him a yeast infection. Blimey, I thought only women got those after taking too many antibiotics, but dogs get them too folks….After the vet visit, it got me thinking, and I remembered years ago when my parents were living here for a short while.
They were vastly amused by the variety of prescribed medications advertised on TV. Of course you must bear in mind that in the UK their prescriptions were usually covered by the National Health System, so pharmaceutical companies didn’t need to advertise on TV, just aspirin etc. So in Oklahoma, mum and dad would watch day time TV, and they used to giggle and blush at some of the topics covered on the American ads. One afternoon I was at their house, and there was an advert for Monistat 7….my mum looked puzzled through the advertisement, and finally she said “I don’t know what this is all about, all this talking about weird things wrong with you, things I have never even heard of.” She turned to my dad, “How do you get a yeast infection anyway?” My father casually glanced up from his paper and said “You have to f**k a baker.” I creased up! My mum still didn’t get it…….
I don’t know if I already told you, but Forrest got me a ‘zero turn’ mower for Mother’s Day. Yeah, he’s sweet like that. Anyway I have been doing all the mowing, and it takes a little getting used to on the coordination front, the steering thing is crazy, but kind of like riding a bike…..Anyway goofy Gump got on the mower the other day (miracles do happen), he wanted to mow around his garden so that he could weed-eat as the grass was pretty long. But he is a male, and so after he had circled his garden a couple of times, he started going around the yard, showing off his mastery of tricky steering, weaving through the trees like a landscaper on steroids. He buzzed by me a few times waving and grinning (mowers=big power tools). I patiently stood with stinky Sam at my feet, and we both calmly watched him and waited for him to stop. Finally he pulled up next to me beaming, and I casually mentioned that he might think about pulling the lever to engage the blade so that it would actually cut the grass. He glanced back at where he had ‘mowed’ to see the foot tall grass dancing in the wind. Without a word, he got off the mower and disappeared into the tomato garden. Stinky Sam and I just exchanged a knowing look… That sodding tomato garden…..This year, Gump the gardener has grown a gazillion types of tomatoes. So many varieties in fact, that he has them all labeled in front of each ‘tree’ and has to pick them in ‘groups’ so he can remember which type they are. Personally I am surprised he hasn’t given them all first names, you know – “Blobby”, “Tommy”, “Red”……But Gump the grower is hot in the challenging pursuit to find the perfect tasting tomato, so that he can take the two best types, and cross-breed them (or something like that).
The hours that have been spent out there are endless; the dollars that have been spent out there are countless. And the amount of conversation that seems to include the word tomato, not to mention the daily consumption of said tomatoes, should make the Guinness Book of Records. Added to that, my house has become a Hitchcock movie of bloody tomatoes! I open the fridge AAGGHH there they are, taking up all the space! I look at the counter tops AAGGHH, newspaper everywhere with fat tomatoes sitting there….on top of the cabinets AAGGHH, paper plates with tomato seeds drying out for next year’s crop. Frankly I wouldn’t care if I saw/chopped/cut/peeled/cooked another poxy tomato again in my life…..see…I told you I was grumpy!
Well that’s enough from me girls, I am still quite the grouch, so I had better quit while I am ahead! Have a wonderful weekend and if you want a tomato, come on over, I’ll give you a dozen and throw in the gardener too….
Jude the tomato hater……..