Tag: #LillyNO

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Finding Rhythm

I spent my morning blasting Foo Fighters for about four hours while I caught up on my online reading.

Fwiw, it seems as though many of my friends are musicians of some sort. I don’t mean that in a negative way in the least, even though it may come across that way. What I mean is, I don’t know any touring musicians. I’ve met a couple in one way or another, but I mean of the people I know, off the top of my head, probably ten or more play an instrument. And of that group, it seems most are drummers. I don’t know what, if anything, that says about me (or them) but it just struck me as odd.

I bring this up because late last night news broke of the sudden and unexpected passing of Taylor Hawkins, the drummer of Foo Fighters. Now, I don’t claim to be a huge fan of theirs, I like them, I listen to them from time to time, but I don’t for example have any real desire to see them in concert. This may seem odd to the casual reader among you, since I do consider myself an avid concertgoer, but I think due to their popularity if for no other reason, I’d consider them an arena rock band and that’s not an environment I particularly enjoy. Sometimes I get a little twitchy getting bounced into by random people (even in the Before Times) at the smaller venues I typically inhabit and the thought of getting crammed in with 40 or 50,000 other people just isn’t appealing to me.

But before I digress any further, let me try and return to my original point. Hawkins, 50, was on tour with the rest of the band in South America when he passed. As of this morning no other details were released, and I don’t know that anything relevant will be. Not that it should matter to any of us that aren’t related to him, you know? I mean, obviously, human nature being what it is, there is some curiosity, but what matters is a family lost their father/husband and a band lost their brother-in-arms and the rest of us should just leave it at that as far as I’m concerned. Maybe instead of letting our minds wander to some darker place, we should take some time to listen to someone who, as the Roots Music site No Depression wrote earlier today, was a drummer that was “ferocious, yet joyful” when he played and just be grateful we had the chance to listen to him for as long as we did while we send strength and light to those that loved him and will feel his loss for the rest of their days.

Rest In Peace Taylor Hawkins, and may we all find something in our lives that we perform in a ferocious, yet joyful manner.

I feel like I got a little preachy there, and I apologize if I did, but I don’t apologize for the sentiment. By and large, the general public doesn’t need to know details behind the demise of someone outside of our personal orbits. The exception being if there is some benefit to the greater populace. Here’s an example, kinda.

By this point in time we all know that purchases on over the counter meds like, for example Claritin D, are regulated by the federal government so that you cannot buy more than 9 grams, roughly 2 teaspoons, because some cracker ass cooked meth from it in his bathtub. Now, you might surmise that since a stimulant is made from this base substance that, in turn, Claritin D would also have somewhat of a stimulant effect on a person.

You might, but I didn’t last night.

We here in central North Carolina are in the early stages of The Pollening, as witnessed by the lovely yellow hue my truck has taken on. As a result, my sinuses are wreaking havoc on the rest of my head, with Claritin D being about the only thing bringing me any relief. Typically, I buy it in a package containing 15 capsules, each providing 24 hour relief. I take it in the morning and I’m good ish for the day. Except for the fact that, for whatever reason, the drug stores in my fair town were out of the 24 hour variety earlier this week. I don’t know why, but I found it odd that two different chains were both out. Idk, maybe it’s also cooking season, but this time I had to buy a package with 30 of the 12 hour capsules. I had been sticking with my regular morning pop, but last night I was feeling it in my head (this always reminds me of the old joke “Does your face hurt? Well, it’s killing me!”) so I took another 12 hour pill around 9:00, just before we went to bed. I did give brief pause to what the effects might include, but figured it’d wear off in an hour or so.

HAH!

I got roughly zero hours of sleep last night. But apparently if I ever need to make an overnight drive anywhere I can just pop an otc decongestant to get wherever I need. I don’t know what else to attribute it to, but what I do know is it sucked. I moved out to the couch around 11:00 and #LillyNO was gracious enough to share it with me. B2 had to work this morning and I didn’t want to take a chance on waking her (B2 that is, not Lilly) as I tossed and turned, literally all night. I should clarify, it’s not like I had the shakes or anything, I was just awake. Like unable to sleep. I finally started to feel a little tired around the time her alarm went off so I just made it official and got up to have a cup of coffee. Fortunately we don’t have any plans for the evening, so if I end up calling it a night in the immediate aftermath of dinner, so be it.

And I’ll be calling it a night without any decongestant.

Ok, last thing, this post has been accompanied by the last album from the late Justin Townes Earle; The Saint Of Lost Causes, and if you’ve never listened to it, you should. It’s wonderful. He was a wonderfully talented, troubled young man. And also gone too soon. Maybe that’s what drew me to that album this morning, I don’t know. But it was a good call.

Peace

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Write, Write, Write…

Ok, I’ll start by addressing the elephant in the room. I haven’t been writing much lately. Like, seven posts (not including this one, since, as I’m writing this now, it hasn’t actually been posted yet) this year. And, four of those seven came in January so, yes, it’s safe to say I haven’t been writing much lately.

I don’t know that there’s an easy answer why either. I’ve had the time. I don’t suddenly hate writing. I’ve kept the upkeep on this site current. I still have functioning computers on which to write. There’s certainly been no shortage of things about which I could write. I mean, have you looked at the news lately? I just haven’t felt like writing. Despite the occasional prod from various friends.

And then, the other day, I heard from a very dear (No, not you Ray) friend, castigating (not as painful as it sounds btw) me for my lack of literary production. And I took a step back and did a little self-examination. Figuratively. And I said to myself “Self” I said, “I need to do a better job of writing things about stuff.”

So here we are.

Let’s see now… what to write about… Hmmm… Ok, how bout the weather? No, too small-talky. Maybe some of the amazing concerts I’ve been to lately? No, too non-existenty. How bout them Cubs? Nope, too flashbacky. I know! Let’s talk about politics! LOL, just kidding. Mostly. I’ll fight that temptation. Probably. Maybe if I try this…

#LillyNO has a new bestie, #LollyStopEffingBarking. A Goldendoodle (there’s a name I never thought I’d write. Also, I feel like Ned Flanders whenever I say/write it) whose real name is Lolly (Yup, Lilly and Lolly) has taken up (purely coincidental naming too) residence with us. A very sweet dog, kind of a lovable lug, has without question, a totally under-developed sense of threat assessment. Somebody comes to the front door? She barks like she means business. Squirrel scampers down from a tree? She barks like she means business. The neighbor’s cat walks across the yard? She barks like she means business. A bird flies overhead? She barks like she means business. A leaf falls from a tree two streets over? She barks like she means business. The sun shines? She barks like she means business. Which, truth be told, is really only a minor annoyance. Although I do find it pretty aggravating at night; as I’m just drifting off to sleep and she loses her shit barking because the wind picks up from 1 mph to 2 mph. You get the picture. But the two dogs get on famously and they’re pretty hysterical together. They’ll play tug-of-war with each other, or play fight (generally with great care to not hurt the other, although every once in a while one of them will get a little overzealous and the other will “yip” causing me to send them to their neutral corners), or try to steal toys from each other, or just lounge with (or on) each other. Neither has really shown much in the way of dominance over the other, but each will try from time to time. All in all, it’s been a really good experience with the two of them and it wasn’t something I’d ever really planned on happening.

If you think the last couple of paragraphs have been a little bit “beat around the bush”y, well there’s a good reason for that. They are. I’m trying to think of a way to get to the point I actually intended to make a while ago. #LollyStopEffingBarking didn’t move in here by herself. Her person, the previously mentioned Beautiful Blonde has moved in along with her.

This started as a supportive gesture. B² decided that after almost 30 years in the same house, it was time to downsize. So she put her house on the market and started looking for a smaller house to buy and, trying to be helpful, I suggested she move in here. My thinking was by doing that, it would eliminate, or at least reduce, the stress of having to find a new house. You know, like “OMG, I sold my house and now I need to find one by tomorrow!” and ending up with a house that you’re going to spend a lot of money on and live in for a really long time and yet from day one you never really liked it all that much. Makes reasonable sense, right? Plus we both really enjoy spending our time together, so why not do something that allows us to spend as much time together as possible? She agreed and, well, here we are several months later doing quite well together.

Not without adjustments though. I’ve had to learn not to try and do/pay for/handle everything that comes along. And that hasn’t been easy for me, in fact I’d say it’s a work-in-progress, but it’s been totally worth it. It’s making me a better person too. Which is never a bad thing.

Plus, I’m learning to speak Southern. And, really, why Rosetta Stone or Babbel (or Berlitz for you older readers) haven’t come up with a class for this is beyond me. The immersion training I’m getting here is pretty thorough. I almost never have to say “Wait, what did you just say?” or “What does that mean?” or “I know all those words, but I’ve never heard them in that order before.” anymore. Well, hardly ever. But, between B² and the next door neighbor, I’ve learned, for starters, that if someone is going to “Jerk a knot in you” or “Give you the back of my mouth” well, those are bad things. Whereas, a “Surcee” or “Wet nuts” are good things. The first two should be self-explanatory, but the second two may cause some looks of bewilderment so, allow me to explain. A “Surcee” is a small, thoughtful, no occasion gift. While “Wet nuts” can be found as an addition on many sundaes down here. They are walnuts or pecans in syrup and don’t think for a second that they are anything like dry nuts. Because they’re far better. Then there’s “might could” as in “I guess we might could go on down to the Tractor Supply and get us some food for the dogs.” This, of course, is followed by the negative “mightn’t” as in “I mightn’t oughta go out today, it’s fixin’ to rain.”

I’d like to get into more of these Southernisms, but my stomach is eatin’ at my backbone, so I think I’m gonna go get me something on a biscuit before I get to dog lippin’ myself.

Peace

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Now Where Was I?

Welp, I pooped in a box today. How’s that for a way to start this post? 

That’s not technically true btw. I actually pooped into a plastic bucket and then placed the bucket inside the box. This is all due to my annual checkup, which took place last week. My Doc gave me the option of sending a sample in vs getting a colonoscopy and I chose the poop in a box route. It was ridiculously convenient too. I came home from running errands one afternoon and saw a package waiting for me on my front porch and thought “Ooooooh I got something!”  You can imagine my disappointment when I realized that, instead of some tasty treat a thoughtful, Beautiful Blonde has sent me, I would soon poop in a box.  Once you start saying that, it’s not easy to stop, it kind of rolls off the tongue, which is probably the wrong metaphor to use given the subject matter.  Still, you have to admit I’m right. Also, it got me thinking about jobs. There are many, many great jobs out there. I think I can safely say opening boxes of poop; eight hours a day, five days a week, is not one of them. I’m not sure what would be worse; knowing box after box after box contains someone’s poop, or opening a box and being surprised that the contents were poop. Probably the surprise box, but the surprise would wear off pretty quickly after the 40th or 50th box, I’m sure. And, yet, someone does this job. I hope it at least pays well. 

I’ve been thinking about jobs for the last week or two, a lot more than usual. This is due to a handful of conversations I’ve had lately with the Heir to the Throne. Wonderful grandchild that he is, he came out to central North Carolina to pay me a visit and get away from some of the stressors life can throw at a 19 year old. And there are many. We’ve talked about jobs, careers, futures, relationships, several things of a serious nature. We’ve also talked a little bit about pooping in a box, because who better to appreciate hearing about poop in a box than a teenage male?  

It hasn’t all been serious talks though. We’ve also managed to sneak in a little fishing along with a quick trip out to the mountains where we did a little sightseeing.  While an attempted stop at Grandfather Mountain turned into an epic fail; due to the pandemic you can only get access if you make an appointment, which we did not do, our Plan B became a stop at Linville Falls, which was beautiful.  We’ve also visited what has become my go-to group of restaurants in the area for guests from back home. Lexington BBQ for, well, bbq; Magnolia 23 for old-school, home-style, Southern cooking; and Johnson’s for a lovely local favorite, cheeseburgers “all the way” which is to say a cheeseburger with chili, slaw, and mustard on it. It’s pretty tasty too, despite how you may think it sounds. I’m really glad he was able to come out for a visit, I think it did both of us some good.

He’s heading home tomorrow morning. I am too actually although I’ll be a couple hours behind him. I’m coming home for a couple weeks to give Ryan and Danielle a hand.  Ryan starts a new, still experimental, treatment using the drug ketamine. The long-term results are encouraging, so here’s hoping. He’ll need a chauffeur for the treatments, since there will be some short-term level of impairment involved, and that’s where I come in. Six treatments over ten days.

Ok, so quick disclaimer; I wrote the bulk of what you’ve read so far Friday morning while the car was getting a pre-road trip service.  I’m currently sitting at the kitchen table watching the two littlest ones playing in their inflatable pool in the backyard while #LillyNO is crashed on the couch.  We drove in yesterday, pretty uneventfully.  Well, let me take that back.  Yesterday was, in fact, a momentous trip in that, in all of the shuttles back and forth from NC to IL, #LillyNO had NEVER produced a drop of pee in the fine state of West Virginia even though every, single trip, either northbound or southbound included a stop there.  You may recall, or not, that I’m particularly fond of stopping in Beckley, WV where there is a place, Tamarack, that features work by local artisans.  It’s a great place to walk around a bit, get a bite to eat, and check out the work of some really talented people.  We have spent, literally, as long as an hour there, walking around the pet-walking area, while #LillyNO sniffs everything and anything and yet, never, ever did what I intended her to do while we were stopped there.  And yesterday, as we neared exit 45 (the Tamarack exit) or at least we were within 25 miles of it, #LillyNO started whining, like, a LOT, so I pulled off at the next exit.  We walked around for maybe five minutes when, lo and behold, she burst her WV seal so to speak.  I can’t imagine beaming more brightly if I had won a Pulitzer and a Nobel on the same day. Shoot throw in a Grammy, Tony, Oscar, Heisman, or any other award for that matter.

Ok, disclaimer number two… I had to walk away from this production several hours ago when, according to my laptop, the server at Word Press stopped functioning. I’m guessing maybe the fact that it was receiving content from me for the first time in a really long time short-circuited something.

I’m gonna wrap this one up here before something else happens and I can’t get it posted. I’m hoping this will get those of you that have been questioning why I haven’t written anything to get off my proverbial back. You know who you are. I’m looking at you Ray.

With a little luck, I’m going to try and squeeze in a visit or two with some friends while I’m here, but I make no promises. Love to all.

Peace

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More Random Conversations With A Three Year-Old

As promised, the Little Diamond continues to educate me. As a bonus for you, dear readers, I’ve also included some of the running commentary I’ve had with her seven year-old brother, the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed hearing them.

As part of our regular routine on days when it’s just the two of us, LD joins me at the coffeehouse (where the baristas spoil her with “bunny cookies”. These are small butter cookies shaped, as you may have guessed, like bunnies, and they’re a big hit) and after my daily latte fix (I may have a problem. Except it’s not a problem) we go to a park of her choosing. One of her favorites has a long slide. The other day, as she finished one of her trips down the slippery surface she proclaimed, to anyone listening, “Best. Slide. Evaaar.”

She’s also fond of facepalms when I (or any other adult she spends time with for that matter) says something she finds unbelievable. And, while that’s pretty funny to watch, my favorite LD special effect has to be either the sad trombone noise she’s perfected (“Wah, wah, waaah”) or when she says something she considers hilarious, and wants to ensure a reaction she feels is suitable, will finish it with “Anybody? Anybody?” I’m waiting for her to recommend the veal and to remind me to tip the waitstaff next.

Lastly on the LD front, apparently Jojo Siwa is a thing at that age group. I had never heard of her before, apparently she owes her “fame” to some reality tv show. But she’s quite a thing in LD’s eyes. If you’re unfamiliar with her, you should probably avoid GTSing her or your search suggestions may get flooded with teenage “musicians” and I’m guessing nothing good will come from that.

Moving right along. This happened one day last week. Actually all of it did. It was quite a week.

Former Beatle Baby “Grampa Joe, are you married?”

Me “Nope.”

FBB “Cause you’re too old, right?”

Me :-l

Or this- While holding his sister’s lip balm.

FBB “Can Lilly lick this?”

Me “No pal, that’s not for dogs.”

FBB “Oh.” “She kinda did.”

Me “She kinda did?”

FBB “Uh huh”

Me “Ok, then.”

In case you’re wondering, I washed off the lip balm before I gave it back to the LD.

This came from the bathroom yesterday-

FBB “Don’t stop, believin’…” Which, btw, sounded better than Journey since, you know, Journey. But I’m not sure why he felt compelled to sing that song, let alone to sing it in the bathroom. Also, at random times yesterday I was treated to Coldplay’s “Paradise” and possibly “Livin’ On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi? At least that’s who I think it’s by. I don’t care enough to look it up. I get enough off-base music suggestions (artificial intelligence my ass) as it is. I’m beginning to question his parenting though. Not really. But kinda.

Finally there was this, at a fundraiser breakfast for the fire department where I got my start lo those many years ago, and where we were joined by his Aunt, the Oldest One. Tossing a sugar packet in front of his Aunt, FBB said

“You dropped your name tag.”

As you might imagine, the table erupted into some pretty hearty laughter. But the best part was when he leaned over to his Mom and asked

“What does that mean?”

Peace

PS- I’ve got another one of these brewing, but first I need to figure out how to whittle a video down to a size that will allow me to embed it into a post. You’ll know it if I’m successful…

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Random Conversations With A 3 Year Old

This one might be long on column space, but it’s pretty short word-wise. And if the subject keeps up the entertainment value of comments, I’ll do another one of these.

One of the obvious bonuses to coming out here a week earlier than I’d planned is getting more time to hang with the littles. Even the not so littles. One of the surprise bonuses (I’m not sure how many there will be, since, you know, surprise bonus) is the opportunity to glean wisdom from a certain three year-old. The Little Diamond and I have been hanging quite a bit this week and these are some of the pearls she’s dropped on me…

Little Diamond from the back seat of the car after a morning of running errands – “Are we almost home?”

Me – “Almost. Are you tired?”

LD – “No, I’m hungry.”

Me – “What do you want for lunch?”

LD – “Chips!”

Me – “You need to eat more than chips.”

LD – “Ummm peppers and tomatoes! And chips!”

Me – “How about some bbq too?”

LD “Yeah, whatever.” I could almost hear her eyes roll at me with that one.

Then there was the time I was singing along (poorly I might add) to the theme from SpongeBob SquarePants…

LD – “No Grampa, it’s SpongeBob Triangle.”

Me – “When did they change it?”

LD – “Last Friday.”

Me – “Ok then.”

I have learned over the past week that this phrase precedes some very unusual comments…

LD – “Ummm Grampa Joe, I have to tell you something.”

Me – “You do?”

LD – “Ummm I saw something blue on the floor and it was from Lilly’s toy.”

Me – “Did you throw it in the garbage for me?”

LD – “Umm yes? *with an impish grin*

Me – “LOL are you sure?”

LD – “Yes?”

Me – “Ok then.”

Or this.

“Grampa Joe, I have to tell you something.”

“Ok, sweetie.”

“I’m hungry, can I have a snack?”

“Sure, what would you like?”

“Nutella.”

“Nutella and what?”

“Nuffing. Just Nutella.”

“Ok then. I’ll get you some Nutella.”

LD, describing game pieces from Candy Land –

“This one doesn’t have a face.”

“What happened to it?”

“A puppy did it.”

“Really? What puppy?”

“Ummm Sherlock.”

“Who has a puppy named Sherlock?”

“Ummm Daddy.”

“Really. Daddy has a puppy named Sherlock?”

“Uh huh.”

*Pro tip* Daddy does not, in fact, have a puppy named Sherlock. Or anything else, for that matter.

This next comment I hear, at random, roughly forty to fifty times a day and that’s not an exaggeration. And each time melts my heart.

LD – “I love you Grampa Joe.”

Me – “I love you too sweetie.”

If you’ve got grandkids, or for that matter, kids around this age, I’m sure you’re familiar with this type of running commentary. Probably to the point that you could fill up one of these posts with similar tales. So you can relate, I’m sure. Through all the hurdles life can put in our path, moments like these always seem to help get us focused back on what’s truly important. Like, for instance, did you know My Little Ponies have cutie marks and NOT beauty marks? This is important.

Peace.

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And Here We Are

So, I was cruising through the Jewels the other day, picking up a few things, one of which being body wash. I had many varieties? Blends? Styles? Types? Kinds? Yeah, maybe kinds, from which to choose. I mean of the brand I like. And Jesus, when did shopping for body wash become like shopping for wine? Have you ever really stopped and looked at the aisle full of cleaning products for your body? It’s staggering. So, when the maker of my brand apparently decided to drop my preferred kind (kind still doesn’t sound quite right) I was left with a quandary. I mean, of course, getting clean is the primary target. But I’d kinda like to smell nice too, right? I don’t think that’s a crazy request, either for myself, or for others that may end up in close proximity to me. Now, a complicating factor, for me anyway, is the inability to smell much of anything. The result of having polyps removed, twice, about twenty years ago, so I can’t tell how pleasant or unpleasant a blend might be. So, when I looked at the label of one and saw “Dark Pomegranate and Sandalwood scent” I thought two things…

A.) Do I want to smell like a candle? and…

B.) Oooooooh pomegranate!

Don’t judge me.

In case you missed it, I kinda buried the lede up there, I’m back in Illinois. It’s baseball/softball/dance recital/graduation season and I thought it might be fun to surprise the fam by getting in early. Mission accomplished, btw! Now if Mother Nature would only cooperate. Not likely, right? Although I suppose it’s only fair that Illinois weather should return to crap within days of my arrival.

#LillyNO was again a trooper on the road trip home, she slept on the back seat (in her new car harness) the whole trip with not one peep out of her. So that’s also a win. Speaking of troopers (see what I did there?) I thought for sure I’d gotten nailed by radar in Ohio, just west of Dayton. Traffic had been pretty great until I got to the Greater Dayton Area and then it started significantly sucking. Or maybe sucking significantly. Either way. So when I got up on I-70 westbound I tried to get around a particularly aggravating cluster of knuckleheads. And as I got up to cruising speed, I noticed an Ohio Highway Patrol squad sitting on the shoulder with the trooper shooting radar. As soon as I saw him, he dropped the speed gun and got into his car, lighting it up. I muttered something (fun fact: I don’t know how many words #LillyNO understands, but she has figured out eff bombs aren’t happy words…) and moved into the right lane, anticipating I’d need to pull over. Much to my relief, he pulled in behind a Jeep Cherokee a couple cars behind me, so, Yay Me! I waited a couple miles out of courtesy and then got back on it. The miserability factor of the traffic flow however, continued past Indianapolis. Pretty much until I got off the Interstate at Remington and hit two lane roads the remainder of the drive home. That adds time to the trip, no doubt, but traveling through northwestern Indiana and through the south/southwest/west suburbs is so hit-or-miss I try and avoid it. In perfect conditions it’s probably 60-90 minutes faster than the two lane route, but conditions there are rarely perfect, at least not at the time of day I typically go through there. So I choose to preserve what little sanity I have left.

It’s almost like Mother Nature is reading over my shoulder (which, I’m told, is rude af btw) because looking out the window I can see that Winter Storm WTF (not it’s real name. I don’t think.) has descended upon northern Illinois. And apparently #LillyNO is as done with winter as I am. She’s whining to go outside yet, both times I’ve tried to let her out, she refuses to set foot out into the snow/sleet/whatever the heck it’s doing at the moment. I hope she’s not holding out for sunshine, her bladder isn’t that strong. But then, who’s is? She’s now going back and forth, from front door to back door, only to find it’s doing the same thing at each stop.

This may get interesting…

Peace

PS- Because, well, you know, we’re now 0 for 3.

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Life With Lilly Episode 5 #LillyNO Visits The Coffeehouse

I’m sitting here at my semi-local coffeehouse this morning, trying to compose some thoughts on a variety of things, and I decided to take a break from that to tell you this.

Coffeehouses in general, and this one in particular (since this is the one where you’ll find me) are apparently, and I know I’ve written about this before, magnets for random characters.  For instance, here this morning I’ve seen; what I can only describe as David Lee Roth in drag sipping on coffee and working a crossword puzzle, any number of college students working on, I’m sure, a wide variety of assignments, what I believe to be one of the local homeless highlighting (and by highlighting I mean, underlining verse after verse after verse with a black pen) passages in an extremely well-worn Bible, a couple of collections of local business types holding some sort of impromptu meeting (probably in violation of the Open Meetings Act) and, of course a lovely selection of hipster types.  Hey, I’ve got no problem whatsoever with eclecticism, heck it makes for great fodder for those of us that like to write about random things, you know?

This shop is also, what you call “pet friendly” according to their website and I have, in fact, seen people here with their dogs.  So, of course, yesterday morning, I brought #LillyNO up here for her maiden voyage.  She did great.  Was her usual, charming self, and very well-behaved.  She was a little skittish when we first walked in, but quickly calmed herself once people started paying attention to her.  Tail wagging and belly rubbing ensued in a very short time-frame and she only needed to be reminded not to jump up a couple of times.  I enjoyed a lovely latte while she laid at my feet, eagerly (Oh please, oh please pay attention to meeeeee people!) awaiting someone, anyone, to make eye contact with her, at which point she would get up, thrash the air with her tail, and seek ear scratches and praise from her new adorers.  I think her tail is a little blurry in this picture, and it’s because she just noticed someone coming over to say hello to her.

We then took a little walk around downtown Greensboro, which she seemed to enjoy just as much as she did Nashville, even though there was nowhere near as much in the way of discarded food scraps on the sidewalks here.  Not too many people around on a Sunday morning here either, so with less socialization going on the walk went pretty quickly.  The only issue came when she got freaked out by an overzealous dog inside a parked car.  He or she was not particularly happy to see us judging by the forcefulness of the barking.  #LillyNO tucked in behind my legs while we waited for the walk light to change so we could move on and she quickly forgot about the foul language the dog threw her way.  So yes, I think there will be more trips to the coffeehouse for #LillyNO in the future.  For now, when I try to write, I’ll leave her home.  But when I can focus on her behavior, she’ll be a more frequent visitor, no doubt.

Imma keep this one short today, I have errands to tend to back home.  I’m not sure if I’ll get anything out before the holiday so I’ll leave you  with these thoughts  I’m thankful for each and every one of you that takes some time out of your day to look at this stuff.  You rock.  And, lastly, despite where we are as a country and as human beings, we have much for which to be thankful.  If you’re reading this, there’s a really good chance you’ve got a roof over your head and a place to rest your head each night.  Far too many of our brothers and sisters on this planet can’t say the same thing.  So appreciate what you have, and recognize the thin line between what society sees as normalcy and utter chaos.

Peace

PS- etc. etc. As proof it’s time for me to go, a grown-ass man just walked in here in his jammies.  I shit you not.  I’m out.

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Life With Lilly Episode 4 – Street Chicken

Well, #LillyNO and I just got back from a whirlwind trip through the Midwest.  You may recall (if you read this stuff) that I had mentioned leaving her with a friend for this trip.

Yeah, about that…

If you’ve ever had one of those moments where you stop and ask yourself “what the #%&$ were you thinking?” then you can relate to me last week.  To refresh your memory, I took #LillyNo in to get her spayed and micro-chipped.

Two days before I was going out-of-town for a week.

Sigh.  I know.

She did great with her surgery, although that first day, a couple of hours after we got back home, I took her off the bed so she could go outside for a potty break.  And I was handling her gingerly, even more so than usual given her surgery.  When I set her on the floor she let out THE most mournful yelp that lasted every bit of 25-30 seconds and she cowered at my feet.  I almost broke into tears on the spot.  And, in that instant, I asked myself what the #%&$ I was thinking by leaving her behind.  I couldn’t do it.  I called my friend Jacquie and thanked her, apologizing profusely, but knew I had to bring my poor puppy with me.  By the next day #LillyNO was feeling significantly better (Thankfully) and we prepped for the trip.  Which was pretty darn cool, if I do say so myself.  And I just did, so.  The purpose of this particular trip was A.) to marry my wonderful god-daughter (to her also wonderful sweetie pie, duh) and B.) swing through Nashville on the way home for a concert (naturally).  And both events went off smoothly.  Except for the whole almost forgetting to do the paperwork which actually, you know, marries the happy couple.  But that’s a story for another time.  I’ve got ample filler here without that tale.  Besides, the two littlest grandkids were thrilled to have #LillyNO in for a visit.  As evidenced by – adorbs, right?

For starters, the Little Diamond scored HUGE bonus points with old Grandpa Joe on my first day there.  As she sat on my lap, looking up at my unshaved chin she proceeded to count all the dark hairs in my stubble.  Now, tbh, there aren’t many.  But to the mind of a three-year old, it was a significant number and she proclaimed it as such.  Heart officially warmed.  Her other particular highlights came during the festivities on Saturday.  As the flower girl (read-flower princess) she marched down the aisle, on time, with a huge smile on her face, stopping at my leg to give me a great big hug until she went back to Mommy and Daddy for the duration of the ceremony.  She was adorable.  Later that night, at the reception, we had the fortune to be seated in close proximity to the cake.  This was no small deal to a cake fan of her magnitude (mine too) (because apple/tree, etc) but shortly after the cake was taken back in to the kitchen to be cut, she looked over at the cake table and said, in a very loud, very precocious three-year old voice “Somebody stole the cake!”  After being reassured the cake would, in fact, be back soon, she was fine.  There’s nothing lower than a cake thief, especially for someone as fond of cake as LD.  Me too, btw.

I’d also like to thank Illinois for providing gale-force winds on Saturday afternoon, along with snow blowing horizontally.  Quick reminder, I just had two Tropical Storms pass through my area and neither provided the wind speeds I saw.  Also it was, like 50 degrees warmer here.

Let’s just say I’m not remotely sorry I won’t be back there for the winter “festivities”.

Nashville was a lot of fun.  One of the guys from the firehouse met me down there.  Tom is a great guy in general, and a great guy to see a concert with in particular, and we saw a fantastic show.  Jason Isbell at the Ryman Auditorium.  If you’ve never checked out his music, please do, it’s amazing.

I also learned #LillyNO is apparently a subspecies henceforth known as Urbana Canis (h/t to Google Translate for giving me Latin) aka Urban Dog.  She loved Nashville.  I suppose it helped that she was treated like Leona Helmsley by the hotel staff.  Although, unlike Leona, #LillyNO loved them right back.  She was given numerous treats, a travel water bowl, and a tennis ball along with being fawned over every time they saw her.  Her elevator skills are pretty impressive too.  As soon as the doors opened, she would walk in and take a spot in the far corner, at my feet.  She sat patiently until we got to our floor and then dutifully pranced off to our room.  I think her favorite part, however, came during our walks.  She not only encountered many adoring humans (and was appropriately charming to them all) she also found quite a different bill of fare as compared to walking around our yard.  Now, for background, by all indications rabbit poop must be classified as quite the canine delicacy.  Sophie *skypoint* used to scavenge the backyard meticulously in search of it and #LillyNO has spent roughly 93.1% of her time outdoors here doing the same thing.  But rabbit poop doesn’t hold a candle to…

Street chicken.

Seriously.

I pulled no less than six chicken bones, one pork rib bone, two pieces of bread, something that may or may not have been polenta, and what I believe to have been prehistoric pizza crust from her jaws.  In two days.  And that’s not counting the things I saw before she did and steered her away from.  Still and all, the #LillyNO experience in Nashville contained many more positives.  An ample opportunity for human attention being foremost on her list, as seen here, on the sidewalk in front of a monolithic coffeehouse across the street from Vanderbilt University, awaiting the next person to speak gibberish to her and prove that she is, in fact, kind of a big deal.

As she should be.  She’s worth it.  And fwiw, I promise to do my best to keep the “what was I thinking” moments to a minimum.

At least as far as #LillyNO is concerned.

Peace

 

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Roadside Markers

One of the things I miss most about being at the firehouse is the steady stream of material for this humble, little blog.  I mean, with minimal effort I was provided with multiple posts; whether it was the misadventures of new guys, unusual calls, or efforts on behalf of the union.  Mostly goofy new guys, but still.  On occasion I’ll get a text message from one of the guys, either from DG or one of the other places I wrote about here.  For example, I got a copy of a text exchange the other day wherein I learned our former new guy Mike still has his “you’re so pretty” moments.  I literally lol’d three or four different times as I kept reading and rereading the text.  Btw, I love you Mike, don’t ever change.  And congrats on the little one!

Another example is a phone conversation I had yesterday with a friend of mine that was recently promoted to Battalion Chief at his FD.  Today is his first shift and he joked that he’d probably mark the day by burning down a historic building in his town.  I, of course, asked him to wait until his second shift to destroy a city block, since I would then be in Illinois and able to harass him in person while also gaining first-hand information for a future blog post.  Of course, I really hope he doesn’t burn down a city block (mostly) but I’m not even lying when I say it would give me ample material to write.

And so I don’t get accused of burying the lede there, yes, I’m heading back to Illinois on Wednesday.  My dance card is mostly open, although Thursday afternoon/evening and Saturday are pretty booked.  If you’ve got availability and feel like chatting up a retiree, hit me up and we’ll see if we can make something happen.  Also, I’m looking for a little info on a phenomenon that seems to be a regular thing down here but not something I really recall seeing back home.

Now, I’ll grant you that vehicles sometimes break down along the interstate.  But I don’t remember them staying there for every long.  I don’t know if that’s due to people getting them towed home or to the zealousness of the ISP at keeping the highways clearish, but either way the sense of urgency to remove a vehicle from the side of the interstate down here is not remotely the same.  Another thing, and this is more what I’m wondering about, I notice people down here will stick something out one of the windows of the abandoned vehicle.  Sometimes a towel, rag, or t-shirt, but more often a plastic shopping bag.  I’ve been told that is done to alert the coppers the vehicle is broken down and not, in fact, abandoned.  Don’t ask, cause I don’t know.  I mean, I don’t know what one has to do with the other, but that’s what I’ve been told.  Just to kind of frost this cake, I noticed a tractor-trailer sitting on the side of the highway on my way up to Greensboro late last week.  When I returned home, the tractor was gone, but the trailer was still parked on the side of the road.  I think there were a couple of people by it still, looking at something on the back of the load.  Building materials, btw.  You know, 2×4’s etc..

You’ll never guess what I saw on the back of the load this morning on my way back up to Greensboro…  Because yes, of course, the trailer was still sitting there unattended.  Go on, guess.  I’ll wait…

Did you guess a plastic shopping bag?

YOU WIN!!!

***Disclaimer- there is no prize for correct guesses other than your very own smug satisfaction for correctly peering into the mindset of people down here via my very own twisted little perception of said people.***

Ok, I just heard from the vet, Lilly is doing great and will be ready to be picked up in a couple of hours.  I dropped her off pre-dawn today to get her spayed and microchipped.  I should probably wrap this up and move on to my next group of errands before I go get her and bring her home.

Keep your eyes open for stuff sticking out of windows of any broken down vehicles and report back, aight?

Peace

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ICRTD Hurricane Edition 2.0

What does one write about when one doesn’t know what to write about?

No, really, I’d like to know.

Ok, since I won’t really get an appropriate answer, at least not in a manner timely enough to write this particular post, how bout this?

MOAR HURRICANES!

Michael is currently making his way toward the Florida panhandle, and after landfall there, is due to come through central North Carolina.  Yay?  On the plus side, for me, this storm will have spent far more time over land than Florence did before getting by me, and it’s also (allegedly) a faster moving storm.  I’ve seen rainfall estimates of 1″-3″ and 3″-5″ depending on the specific track he takes, so either way it shouldn’t be horrible.  Again, I do this not looking for sympathy (or to give certain, unnamed people any Schadenfreude) but rather since I’m not above gloating about nice weather here I feel like it’s only fair for me to write about named storms cruising through my area.

Let’s see, what else do we have here?  Ok, how bout this?  I’m currently at my local coffeehouse, although, truth be told, it’s more like a restaurant that has baristas too, and can I just say Jesus it’s loud in here.  I mean I’ve got my headphones on, cranking out one of my favorite playlists and while my personal volume is moderate, I can still hear the dull roar of several dozen conversations rumbling in the background.  That’s no bueno.  At one point in the last year or two I considered opening up a coffeehouse as a retirement gig.  And then I realized that, you know, that’s kind of a lot of work and I don’t know that I really want to impose that on my retired ass.  Yet, it’s something this town sorely lacks, imho.  An actual coffeehouse.  I like this place, I do, the people are all very nice, and several of them now recognize me by my go-to order (large vanilla latté [or is it lattè?]  I checked Wikipedia and found both used…) which I really enjoy.  And there are three other places in town that call themselves coffeehouses; but one is in a chain book store, one is a former bar that doesn’t open until 10 in the morning and still has the pool table from its previous incarnation, and the third is small, dark, and dingy and not at all conducive to my caffeinated enjoyment.  And caffeinated enjoyment is not to be taken lightly.  In fact, I’m kind of tickled with that combination of words and you may well see it frequently from here on out.  Caffeinated enjoyment.  Kinda rolls right off the tongue, no?

I did stumble across a really nice place up in Greensboro, right downtown, that I really like.  The problem, although not a huge one, is that it takes me a little over thirty minutes to get there from here.  So it’s a pain, but not a deal breaker, at least for me.  And certainly not a big enough hassle to make me rethink my future as a small businessman.  Unless I hit the lotto tonight.  And since I’ll most likely forget to buy a ticket for it, I’d say the chance of winning is exponentially worse than if I did buy one.

Lastly (I think) I’ve got another trip home to Illinois coming up in a little over a week.  I’ll be gone from central NC for about a week with my trip split into two parts; a family wedding on the 20th and then a swing through Nashville for a concert.  My plan as of now is to leave #LillyNO with my realtor.  I didn’t really want to have to leave her locked up for such a long stretch during the wedding festivities and then also I didn’t really want to leave her penned up in a hotel room while I’m at the concert.  I know she’s fine at home for several hours, but if she barks the whole time she’s locked up (and I don’t know that she does, but if she did) in the hotel room, well, then she’s bothering a lot of people unnecessarily.  But still, the thought of her being somewhere else, no matter how well she’s cared for (and I know she’ll be well cared for there) kind of doesn’t sit well with me.  She’s going through a bit of a terrible two or threenager phase now and even though she is perfectly capable of producing short periods of time where she’s a total jerk, I still enjoy having her around and she’s still adorable AF, you know?  So I’ve got some contemplating to do.

I’ve also got some lawn care to do before Michael gets here, because apparently it’s against protocol to have a less than tidy lawn before a named storm blows in and dumps a bunch more leaves, acorns, and branches onto your yard.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.  But judging from the neighborhood activity the last couple of days, that’s the deal, so… I’m off.

Peace