...About Glitter

In my lifetime, I would really appreciate the opportunity to meet the guy who invented glitter. Holidays are made more festive; Birthday cards are more appealing; toys for small children are more eye-catching; Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without glitter-covered candles, and wrapping paper, and cards, and garland, and what-nots, and things, and stuff, and everydamnthing you ever owned. EVERY.DAMN.THING.YOU.EVER.OWNED!  Covered, I mean absolutely COVERED in damn glitter. And I'm not talking rhinestone kinda glitter. I'm talking glitter the size of an amoeba! The tiniest particles known to exist in the great and vast universe in which we carry on this meager happenstance we call "life."  (That's pretty good, huh?)

I am married to the greatest woman I could hope to find. She is vastly talented. She can use post hole diggers and set 8' 4x4s perfectly straight and plum in concrete, vacuum the pool, build a pantry in the kitchen, make a wedding cake from scratch that is to die for, wash a load of clothes, and make a perfect souffle -- all before lunch! She can take 2 bobby pins and some double-sided carpet tape and make a pot roast! We looked at replacing the Formica counter tops in the bathrooms with granite. HA! $$Cha-Ching$$!  She added moulding to the fronts and did a faux painting job that looks so close to marble, that my buddy put his nose on it trying to see the difference. It is really beautiful.   But... I digress!!

Man, when she decorates the house for the holidays, it is a magnificent work of art! And guess what one of the main ingredients would be. You guessed it - ANYTHING smathered with glitter. Oh, it's a beautiful thing to see, don't get me wrong.  Let me put it this way...... She decided to take it all down and store it; it's time. Today, I stopped her at a point and said, "Here, honey, let me have that vacuum, and I'll do that for you. You can move on to something else. I got this."  [*ahem*]  WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING??!!"  All she decorated this year (with the house for sale) was the mantle over the fireplace. I have worked for almost an hour trying to get all the glitter cleaned up. [I say "have worked" because I'm not finished yet - I was so aggravated, I stopped to write this blog!!] Every time you move the slightest amount, the light catches another crystal of red, or green, or blue, or clear. BAM! Hit that thing with the vacuum head! "Die, you gravy-sucking pig!"  I caught myself bobbing and weaving like Muhammad Ali trying to hit the light just right to see the next one. This may take forever.

I say that I'd like to meet the guy who invented glitter. Read that as, "I'd like to punch the guy who invented glitter in the schnozola!" I would just about bet that he was Chinese. I don't mean that in an ugly way. Everything we have now was made in China. I think it is the great plan the Chinese have for taking over the world! When they have everything ready, they will wait until about the first weekend in January and make their attack. They know that every male will be doing the right thing by helping their "other" clean the glitter. Chinese glitter. We will all be so aggravated and woozy-eyed that we'll never see them coming. Attack complete, take-over accomplished, and not a shot fired!

I think what I'm gonna do is mandate to my wife that she can NEVER AGAIN use anything with glitter. 

As my buddy Mark says, "Yeah, OK, Paul. Let me know how that works out for you." 

Uh, oh. Here she comes. I gotta go. 

-

...I'd ask, "Where's the Rake??"

OK. I did the first "Welcome In" blog. I suppose now I should actually say something.

Our house is for sale, and being aware of things like "curb appeal" and the like (HGTV will change the world), I figured I'd better clean up the leaves in the yard. It really needs to look good, you know? So I went out, got on my Craftsman lawn tractor with the mulching blades and the double-bagger (unlike the normal usage of the term "two-bagger"), and was prepared to make short work of those damn leaves. Turned the key... click. Dammit. Not whirrrr, click. Just click. Gotta be the battery. Hooked up the battery charger for several hours. Click. Dammit. Must be the starter. "Alright. I'm in the mood... where's the rake?"
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING???!!!
If you are anywhere near my age (54), you have probably had the opportunity to enjoy the finer things in life: a lawn tractor, beer in a twist-off bottle, maybe a pool, good friends who also like beer in a twist-off bottle, etc. etc.  We forget things like using a bottle opener or a leaf rake. There are things we should never do when we reach the age of better logic. A leaf rake is a great thing, but it will take its toll on old bones. 
But I digress. [And just what the hell does "digress" mean, anyway?  People use that term all the time. They have no clue what it means. I do. I looked it up. Intransitive verb: to turn aside especially from the main subject of attention or course of argument.  So... as I will do from time to time... I digress.]
Many years ago, my father would come home from work, and, in the summer when it stays light longer, he would go out after dinner (supper) and take the water hose... and water. You know what I mean. Thumb-over-the-end-making-a-spray kinda watering. And he stood, and he stood, and he stood. I never understood it until many years later. I was sitting on the porch one evening, having had yet another less-than-enjoyable conversation with my 1st wife, and I picked up the hose and started watering the grass. After several minutes - voila! I had begun to calm into figuring out the problems of the world. Wanna experience that in the fall and winter? Pick up the rake. (And you just THOUGHT I wouldn't get back on topic!)
Raking the front yard took me most of the day Saturday and part of Sunday. I solved tons o' problems. I even decided to write this blog thing - which I may still not write. It was therapeutic. It was tiring, but a good kinda tiring. The yard looks good (it would look great if the damn wind wasn't blowing), the grass is aerated, and I have the satisfying feeling of having accomplished something significant. As I said, old muscles aren't very happy right now, but I feel manly. There is a HUGE pile of leaves running most of the length of my front curb, and I feel mighty. So my thought to you is this: Wanna feel manly (or womanly)? Wanna sense of great accomplishment? Wanna just think through life's issues and come up with the answers? Grab the rake and hit the yard! It's a sure-fire way to let your mind clear.

Now... Wanna know what really sucks? I have ZERO trees in my yard. Not one damn tree. I have 14.7 tons of leaves and achy arms and back muscles, AND NOT ONE TREE! I should just push them back into my neighbor's yard. But of course, the wind is blowing back this way!

Maybe I'll do the back yard next weekend...... maybe not. Time for a twist-off.