It was so long ago that I can barely remember, but I know that we went to the Chinamart across town yesterday. I always get my mom’s groceries over there, since we get most of our own groceries at the other store and I’d need two carts to get both. The missus always picks up a few things on Sunday that we forgot on Saturday. I also got some burlap to scour grime off a couple transitional planes that I want to refurbish and sell. I think the original owner wiped them down with crude oil on occasion and they’re rather black. I needed something to use with mineral spirits to scour them that wouldn’t be coarse enough to hurt the wood and thought of burlap. I’m hoping the stain from the grime colors the bare spots where use has worn off the original finish. I managed to get a couple nice porch sits with the Mighty Dachshund yesterday, too.
Today, we took a walk on the wild side and went to the Chinamart upriver and in enemy territory. I picked up three items that mom forgot to tell me that she needed yesterday and looked once again for her hair mousse. None of the three local Chinamarts carry mousse of any kind, so I’m wondering if it’s gone the way of the dinosaurs. I picked up the new Backwoodsman magazine while I was there. It’s the only magazine that I buy anymore, as it’s the only one that has more than one article a month that interests me. At the prices they charge for “mags” anymore, most just aren’t worth it to me.
On the way home, we noticed that the air conditioner was dying, so I recharged it before we went out this evening to take Mom her stuff. I got in one round of porch-sitting with the pooch this morning and it was blowing pretty stiffly, so it’s probably “puckering up to rain,” as the old man who used to live across the road would phrase it.
After the delivery, we cruised downtown and around a couple old neighborhoods that were nice in our youth, but are slums now. People have no pride anymore. It’s one thing to not be able to afford paint, or to let the yard get ahead of you, but there’s no excuse for trash and junk piling up in the yard or on the front porch.
We didn’t hear from any relatives this weekend. We’re too religious, too politically conservative, too boring or too poor to interest them anymore, depending on which one we’re speaking of at the time. Years ago, the missus didn’t call her closest relative for ages, just to see how long it took the relative to call her. She gave up after FIVE months and called the relative. He wondered why she hadn’t called earlier. I guess phone lines, like highways, only work in one direction.
Whenever my wife or I croak, no-one will ever know when the second one passes. It’ll be one of those deals where the meter reader calls the cops because the grass isn’t mowed and he/she smells the odor of rotting flesh. If it’s me that’s left, I might set up a daily call with another old geezer, so we can keep track of one another. Family is where you find it these days. © 2017