Monthly Archives: December 2014

My Special Outfit for the Fed-X Man

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8:30 a.m. – Central Standard Time –Today

I can’t believe I just answered the door in this outfit . Let me set the scene…I got a fresh haircut yesterday and then slept on it so my hair is especially lovely this morning all matted down on one side and sticking straight up on the other, not in a cute bed head kind of way either, more in an escaped mental patient kind of way. I was still in my nightgown, but had added to my ensemble a pair of sweatpants that an old boyfriend left here, (I can’t even remember who) so they were way too big and I looked like the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man from the waist down to my feet which were adorned with hot pink furry tiger print ankle boots…with tassels. So now you have an idea of what I looked like when I opened the door.

It was the Fed-X man and he was my age and he was cute! I was so embarrassed. My dog Attila was behind me barking his “warning, warning, there is an unfamiliar human at the door” bark. He thinks he is protecting us by barking. I’m sure that he has convinced himself that the only reason these strange people have not killed us all and taken over the house is because he is so vigilant about maintaining watch and patrolling the house at all hours day and night.

Since it was Fed-X, the guy couldn’t just drop it on the porch, ring the bell and run like the UPS guys do. I had to actually talk to this guy and sign his little electronic do-dad, so I stuck my head out the door to try and sign but the dog was still trying to inch his way out. I could tell from the look on the poor Fed-X guy’s face, and by the way he said, “Your dog is getting out, your dog is getting out” in a high pitched voice as he jumped backwards and nearly fell down the stairs, that he was possibly afraid of dogs. So I slinked out onto the porch while Attila continued to bark behind me.

After signing so illegibly that he had to ask what my name was, I turned around intent on getting out of public view as fast as possible. I grabbed the storm door handle and pulled down. This usually makes the door open, however, this time it made the handle come off. By now the Fed-X guy is already half way to his truck running full tilt, I am standing on my porch in my stunning ‘Homeless Bird Lady’ costume with the door handle in my hand wondering how I am going to get back in the house at 8:30 in the morning.

Luckily, I was able to find an old garden trowel on the porch and pound the handle back into the hole far enough to turn the latch. As fortune would have it, Attila was still so engrossed in the goings on outside that he completely missed the fact that there was an unattended turkey in the kitchen that could have been all his. I’m sure he will be kicking himself later.

As I was coming back in the house from my adventure on the porch, the phone rang. It was my mother which is another story all by itself that I’ll save for later….OH, crap…the doorbell just rang again!

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I went to my mom’s today to help her put the Christmas lights up. She has lights on every bush and tree in the yard, on the lamppost, around all the doors including the garage and an assortment of light up decorations that can be seen from space. I have never seen a woman in possession of so many extension cords. She buys the little 6 ft. indoor green ones because they are cheaper and then she hooks them all together. Heaven forbid she might spend a few extra dollars and buy one that is longer. I have tried to explain to her that for the same amount she spent on the multitude of shorter cords, she could actually buy one that is longer than all of hers put together AND meant to be outside, but as usual, she has not been receptive to my suggestions.

In lieu of buying an outdoor cord, she wraps a plastic Wal-mart bag around where they connect because she thinks that will keep them dry when actually it just holds the condensation inside the bag creating a miniature rain forest in there. And of course the connections are dripping wet. I just shake my head and cringe each time she plugs one drenched plug into another.

There are extension cords trailing all over the yard and the porch, not to mention the sidewalk and the driveway. Then she plugs them all into the same outlet with a vintage Bakelite 3 way plug splitter she’s had since the 60’s. Never mind the little crack in it. She’s used it every year since they moved in and she hasn’t burned the house down yet she tells me. I have tried in vain to explain the dangers of overloading and if she won’t consider that, she might at the very least, consider upgrading to a splitter with a grounding prong. She insists she’s always done it that way since before I was born and that she raised us without any help from the Consumer Product Safety Commission. She also added that she’s lived for 84 years so far and she’s sure she will be able to carry on for a few more despite my reservations.

I’m going back tomorrow to finish the tree on the side of the house. I will be perched atop a 10 foot step ladder strategically placing multicolored twinkle lights on a rather large spruce tree while my mother stands down on the ground holding on to the ladder, in case I fall, directing my every move so that the lights get distributed properly. I’m posting this here just in case I get electrocuted or a fire breaks out so somebody will know what to tell the paramedics and the fire department in the event that I am found unconscious on my mother’s lawn and the house is in flames.