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Posts Tagged ‘Out of the house’

Dear People Who See Me in Person,

Though there will be only a handful of you over the next couple of weeks, let me answer the inevitable questions now:

  1. Yes, I broke my ankle.
  2. No, it’s not a good story.

I wish I could say I broke it doing something exciting, like glacier hiking in Iceland, cliff diving in Bermuda or rappelling off the Empire State Building (if that could even be a thing).

But no.

I tripped on some uneven pavement and rolled my ankle.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

The ligament actually broke the tip off my fibula.

I broke the piggie who ate roast beef a couple of weeks ago. Same foot. My first two broken bones.

I guess if I’m going to damage myself, during a pandemic is as good a time as any. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

This splint is my sexy new accessory for the next few weeks.

Dr. Peter said the bone will heal in about a month. I asked how long I should try to stay off my foot. He said:

Let pain be your guide.

Isn’t that true for so many things?

Anyway, I’ll be fine.

And also, it’s good to see you.
Beth

*Remember that song?

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Dear Tony, Spike, Ulysses, Rolfe, Verna and friends,

I found out this week that you likely will be leaving me soon to go to Mexico.

That makes me sad, but I understand. You have places to go and other people to see.

I know I’ll see you in the spring.

I’ll miss you. I’ll leave the feeder up just in case anyone still around needs a snack. (Suddenly I’m thinking of that Motel 6 commercial.)

Thanks for visiting.

Your friend,
Beth

* Thanks to Dale Evans and Roy Rogers.

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Dear Eddie,

Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.

Yikes.

One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”

Yeah. What she said.

The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.

I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.

It can be summed up in two photos:

This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.

Clearly the same sense of humor.

In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.

We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.

Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.

Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.

In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.

Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.

We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.

Your face says it all.

Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!

Happy anniversary!

Love,
Beth

*Thanks, Paul Simon.

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Dear Parents of Teenaged Boys:

How did you live through the learning-to-drive phase?

Dominic now has his learner’s permit.

This was not an easy process, but I bet it pales in comparison to actually teaching him to drive.

He was supposed to go get his learner’s permit weeks ago. We made an appointment. He filled out the application. We got the appropriate letter from his school. I sent him the link to the manual and the sample tests.

We got in the car to go to the DMV.

Him (looking at his phone): What is this sign? (Shows me the following image on his phone)

Me: It’s a warning sign. Why?
Him (still looking at his phone): The line down the middle of the road is black, red, yellow or white?
Me: Look, you have to answer these questions yourself. First, I’m driving right now. Second, you should have studied the manual!
Him: Where did you say that manual was?
Me (head exploding): You are kidding, right?
Him: I didn’t think it would be hard.
Me: It’s going to be hard if you didn’t look at the manual.
Him: I think we are going to have to cancel the appointment.
Me (steam escaping my ears): Yeah, I guess so.

So we made a new appointment. He promised to study the manual this time.

On the way to the new appointment, we had the following conversation.

Him: I’ve been doing well on the practice tests. This guy said he failed the test 17 times. He finally passed after taking the test three times in one day. His advice is to read the manual.
Me: Well, duh.
Him: (Silence)
Me: You did read the manual, right?
Him: I’m reading it now.
Me: (Nearly crashes the car from shock and blind rage)

Y’all, I’ll be honest: I did not have high hopes for a successful outcome.

We got there, showed proof that he filled out the application and got our temperatures taken.

After loads of paperwork, he was off to take the test.

While I was waiting, I realized my license expires at the end of this year. So I renewed it while I was there. Bonus!

As I was doing that, Dominic ambled over.

Him: I passed!
Me: Really?! That’s GREAT!
Him: It was really easy. In fact, some of the stuff I studied in the car was on the test.
Me (rolling my eyes): You got so lucky.

On the way home, he called his father to tell him the news. No answer. He called his brother.

Him: I passed
Gideon: You passed?
Him: I passed my learner’s permit test.
Gideon: Oh. Nice.

They hang up.

Me: He was so … what’s the word I’m looking for?
Him: Unenthusiastic.
Me: Yes.

We had a good laugh.

I pulled over when I was nearly home and let him drive the rest of the way. He did a good job. He even praised me for my patience (!).

Today, we had to pick up his yearbook from the high school. I let him drive. On Peachtree. Anyone who knows Atlanta knows that’s like letting him drive on a NASCAR track. (Not as bad as I-285, but bad.)

I’ll be drinking loads tonight. And I’ll be thankful to be alive.

I swear he took a turn on two wheels.

He didn’t change lanes quickly and drove in the middle of the road for a bit.

He couldn’t figure out how to work the turn signal. (I mean, he’s not alone. Veteran drivers can’t seem to figure that one out.)

So how did you do it?

Any tricks or tips you want to share?

I’m all ears. (And white knuckles.)

Thanks,
Beth

*Thanks, John, Paul, George and Ringo. This tune is now stuck in my head.

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Dear Gideon,

I missed you when I took Dominic to Savannah.

I missed your non sequiturs.
I missed the odd comments.
I missed our inside jokes.

Luckily, you gave me all three starting the second I got home.

For the first, there’s this:

For the second, I especially like comments that make you sound like an old man. Like what you said when you got home from work yesterday:

I can’t wait to take my socks off!

To be fair, you get that particular thing from me. I prefer being barefoot.

And for the last one, I submit this exchange:

Me, outside your bathroom door: Are you taking a bath?
You: Yes. I’m in the hot TUB.

The emphasis is on “tub” because of this SNL sketch (one of our favorites).

You make me giggle all the time.

I missed you.

Love,
Mama

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Dear Dominic,

Sometimes I forget how great you are and how well we get along. (Having to bark at remind you to take out the trash and recycling takes its toll on both of us.)

But as we were leaving our place this morning to head to Savannah, I saw you at your best.

Wee morning hours are not great for me. It’s my own fault: We needed to get to the McKinnons’ house before all my Zoom meetings began.

As I was trying to get my watch charger in the dark, I whacked my forehead on the nightstand.

I was still rubbing my head when I told you it was time to go.

You saw the lump that had formed immediately.

You: What happened to you?
Me: I banged my head on the nightstand.
You: Come here. (Gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead.)
Me: Did you just kiss my boo-boo?
You: That’s the treatment!

That was very sweet.

But then later when I took the ice pack off, you went back to normal.

Me: How do I look?
You: Like Voorhees.

Thanks so much.

Sigh.

Love you anyway,
Mama

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Dear People in the Condo Building:

I’m truly fascinated by your lives. Every time I go to our place to clean for a new guest or just hang out, there’s something going on.

It’s very “Rear Window.”

I’m here today because I have so much work to do, and I needed peace (read: time away from Dominic complaining about the Wi-Fi).

It’s a nice day, so I’m on the balcony. I’m worried about getting a contact high from the clouds of chronic. (New building name: Chronic Condo. Or THC Towers. Or High House.)

The last time I was here to get work done, I got to party with Cardi B, along with everyone else on their balconies.

One time, I was having a girls’ night with my friend Becky (with the good hair).

Some guys two floors down and two balconies over saw us.

Dude 1: Hey Ladies!
Dude 2: You with the hair!
Dude 3: We’ve got weed. Come on down!

Becky and I are middle-aged women. We are not going to party with random guys — in a pandemic, no less.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t weirdly flattered.

Anyway, thanks for providing plenty of entertainment.

Love,
Beth

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Dear Dekalb County School System:

Thank you for starting the school year online rather than face to face. Thank you for not caving to pressure from the COVIDiots Thank you for keeping all of us safe.

We are still in a FREAKIN’ PANDEMIC!

If people had buckled down and done what they should have in March/April, we might be closer to being back to normal.

But no.

Sigh.

Anyway.

My boys went back to school today. Usually I’d post a photo from their first day of the new school year on social media. This year, it seems silly.

Their bedrooms are their school.

Here it is, for what it’s worth:

Dominic is in 10th grade. Gideon is in ninth.

They are feeling overwhelmed. Seven classes each. All virtual. Mostly asynchronous.

(I’m even overwhelmed by the number of parent emails and texts I’m getting.)

There are thousands of kids doing the same thing, so the network was overloaded. Dominic was in a synchronous classroom by 9 a.m.

It took Gideon until 11 to get online.

But this is the way it is right now. I’m not complaining.

One of the cool things is that they decided they wanted to go to the store to get their own supplies. No ridiculously long and detailed supply lists this year. Thank GOD. (They rarely even used most of the things we just HAD to get.)

One of the not-so-cool things is that we ended up going to Walmart. (Shudder. Big stores now give me anxiety.)

On the way home, Dominic and I had this conversation:

Him: I really would prefer actually going to school. I’ll take my chances with the virus.
Me: Great! So you want to put your brother at risk, me at risk, and also your father who has asthma and likely would get the worst of it and die.*
Him: Well, when you put it like that, I guess virtual is fine.
Me: Mmmhmm.

So, DCSS, keep up the good work. Difficult times call for creative solutions. We will persevere.

You know that adage: What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

Sincerely,
Beth, DCSS parent

* Yeah, I exaggerated, but not by much. Eddie has had so many colds that graduated to pneumonia.

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Dear New Airbnb Hosts:

Welcome to the club! It’s a good way to make some money, and the Airbnb platform usually makes life easy. Sometimes the guests don’t, though.

I advise you to set clear house rules. Here are mine:

Even then, I’ve had people leave:

  • Frat-party levels of empties.
  • Multiple bags of trash even though the chute is right outside the door.
  • A weave.
  • Dirty underpants.
  • A burn mark on the bathroom mirror.
  • The balcony door open with A/C, fans and lights on.
  • Bleach stains on the towels.
  • A pile of wet towels in the bedroom closet.
  • Balcony furniture in the bedroom.
  • Something orange and sticky on every surface.
  • Cigarette stench that required days of airing out and a trip to CVS for three styles of air freshener.

Someone also left an unopened package of bacon, which did not upset me at all.

One thing I didn’t realize when I first became a host is that guests can be dumb. Really dumb. Like how-can-they-live-their-lives dumb.

Take, for example, the woman who is in our place now. She called me at 10 last night because she couldn’t figure out how to turn on the light in the bedroom.

I had no idea of the rarity of an overhead fan with a remote control that features a lightbulb icon.

🙄

But there is a different woman who has the honor of being the dumbest person so far.

Here is the full exchange (I didn’t leave anything out, except part of the map I sent):

She needs one of Bill Engvall’s signs. Right? Or am I just being mean?

Anyway.

Now you know better what you are getting yourself into as a host.

Good luck!
Beth

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Dear Gideon:

It’s true that Dominic is more like me when it comes to wit and personality, but you and I are more alike in terms of things we like to do.

For example, we share a love of the outdoors and a certain level of redneckery.

Thank you for going with me on one last state park trip before “school” (such as it is during COVID times) begins Monday.

The trip had everything we needed:

  • An adorable cabin
  • An adorable cabin that had a kitchen (Mama doesn’t play with cook stoves.)
  • An adorable cabin that had a kitchen and a proper bed (Mama is too old to be in a sleeping bag with tree roots digging into her spine.)
  • Fred’s “Famous” Boiled Peanuts just down the road apiece
  • River tubing
  • Hiking trails
  • A waterfall
  • A lake on which we could kayak
  • A town that tries its best to be the Bavaria of the South
  • Moon pies in a medley of flavors
  • Outdoor dining where we could load up on loaded tater tots (and feel our arteries leaden)

The trip also had things we didn’t need:

  • People without masks
  • Pickled pigs’ feet
  • A ridiculously tight valve on the kayak that made it nearly impossible to deflate (Luckily, Mama can charm passing fellow rednecks.)
  • The loaded tots (Seriously.)

It’s funny to me your brother was bent out of shape and jealous when we got back. I invited him. He didn’t want to go. As usual.

Dominic: I thought you were just going for a day. I didn’t know it was an overnight trip.
Me: You didn’t listen. I tried to tell you about the cool cabin, but you weren’t having it.

Anyway, I enjoyed spitting cherry pits off the balcony with you while we listened to Alan Jackson (in true redneck fashion).

I hope you’ll do things like this with your kids if you ever have them. Or at least remember these times when I’m old(er) and (more) decrepit and unable to haul a deflated kayak up and down a hill.

Love,
Mama

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