It's cool (32˚F) and cloudy here, damp from a bit of rain during the night—a good afternoon for a warm fire, moody background music, and settling in with a cup of tea and a good book. Alas, though this is Myladylove's day off, she's scheduled to go help man—or in her case, woman—the company's booth at a large local "home show" from 4-8 p.m.
Alas, deux…my sweet lovely, with possible malice aforethought, procured me a ticket that I might share in the joy of spending four hours in a sprawling convention center amongst the home-improvement masses.
Misery loves company.
I'm usually good for about an hour of schlumping around on my own up and down the isles, checking out pools and hot tubs, lawn mowers, cable suppliers, roofs, gutter systems, garage doors, water softeners, and paving blocks before I go in search of the sorrowful band of fellow miserables—huddled masses yearning to breathe free! Husbands, boyfriends, and androgyne individuals who've accompanied—willingly or under duress—their significant others to the show and have, like me, reached their gag limit and are now simply looking to survive. Such a glum congregation can always be located somewhere about (the food court is a good place to start, unless it's full of screaming kids) and a fellow refugee will find easy welcome among their ranks.
So what has all this got to do with the photo of missus pileated? Not a blooming thing! I just made the shot a few minutes ago and wanted—before I go off and do what a man must occasionally do…whine, whine, whine—to share the image.
18 comments:
Whine on, Grizz, whine on. In this instance, it seems entirely justified. Crowds and commerce is a lethal combination for a solitary soul like me. As you note, however, sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.
George…
Well, I survived…and it actually wasn't too bad. And like it is whenever you find yourself having to spend a fair amount of time with strangers, the deciding key lies in the company you're stuck with—which today turned out to be excellent, making for a fine impromptu get together. We all simply accompanied our womenfolk. No one wanted to take more than a cursory look at anything for sale in the entire arena—no interest in any product or service. Our common goal was to find comfortable seats away from the pitchmen and crowds, sip on the free coffee and hot cocoa, and make the best of the afternoon and evening by talking, laughing, and trading yarns. I've had evenings with favorite guests that didn't turn out as enjoyable. I actually whined prematurely.
HI GRIZZ - A quote from my Mom - "You are a good man Jim"!!! DId I tell u that lil story? Well here goes, when my Mom was passing away those last few days my dear friend Larry (also has MS and is in a wheel chair) came to be with us and pray and set with my Mom a spell. They had a special bond, she adored him and he, her. As he was wheeling away from her bed side that Thursday less than 24 hours before she passes, this small yet clear voice said "Larry", - we all gave pause as she had not really spoken for a full day - and so it came to be that her last full sentence was "Larry - you are a good man."!! SO when I say it to you for her know it has special meaning.
Love Gail
peace.....
p.s. we got 30" of snow here, yes two and a half feet!! with 7 to 10 foot drifts - we are snowed in, literally!!
Oh, I had to giggle at your last paragraph! Love seeing your gorgeous visitor. :c)
Gail…
I've been wondering and worry about you given the storm. Sounds like you're doing okay, though…except for being snowed in. (Keep me posted)
You know, early on I made a conscious decision in my life that I wanted to be a "good" person. Not just because I was raised that way, or because Mom and Dad wanted and expected it—but because I wanted to try and live my life to that aim. I like people. I've never wanted to hurt anyone; on the contrary, I'm most fulfilled when I feel like I've helped. Still, I haven't always succeeded, and frankly, in some respects, I've maybe failed more often than not. But if I could choose any legacy, it wouldn't be to be remembered for my writing or music, or anything to do with some sort of measurable success…it would be to have it said of me, "He was a good man."
So I'm being honest when I tell you nothing you could ever say or think of me—and especially given the story of your mother and all—is that you count me a "good man." I hope that's as true as I can make it, always. Thank you.
Jayne…
As I confessed to George, my dreaded "incarceration" turned out to be quite pleasant—fun, actually. I was overhasty in my bellyaching. But I do remain proud of the pileated pix. ;-)
GRIZZ -
absolutely true, absolutely......I know it in my soul.
Love and highest regards
Gail
peace.....
p.s. we are or SKipp and my nephews are shoveling and snow blowing and plowing us out - lots of snow to relocate!!
Grizz…
Yup, that's me…Mr. Marshmallow Nice Guy. And proud of it, too!
BTW, just windy here, and 50˚F. Moon and I have been out for a short ramble.
Being an employee of a 666BBHS (Devil may take it, Big Box Hardware Store) I certainly understand your whine.
Like you, celebrating (or feeding, in my case) a nearby bird always takes the edge off of it.
I see you survived. Good for you!
Robin…
Yeah, like a lot of life's dog days, the evening's bark turned out to be worse than its bite. But making the pileated pix indeed helped, or would have helped had help been necessary.
And you're right, when some disagreeable task looms, where other men turn to drugs, drink, or fast women to get them through…I do woods, critters, and acquiescent fish. Maybe a double expresso for extra courage.
BTW, like the company acronym. Odd, though—I expected you to have a stronger opinion re. the place. ;-)
Hahaha...you made me laugh!
Kelly…
You laughed at a fellow Buckeye's fear and anguish? Well, huh! :-(
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh.........
Giggles…
I'm getting better at stalking pileateds, huh? (Either that or word has gotten out the camera-totin' geezer is harmless.)
This post had me laughing out loud! Such a vivid description of what I imagine many men are thinking when we women drag them to such events. Glad it turned out better than you thought it would, Grizz.
Brenda…
I often—and I hate to admit this—whine prematurely. It's totally impulsive, the typical male defense when faced with stuff we feel obligated to do…but don't really WANT to do; our go-to response when we can't call upon some testosterone-based reflex, given that we John Wayne types can't throw a tantrum or go to our room and sob uncontrollably. Glad you liked the post…and forgive me for being so slow in replying.
It seems like everyone sees these wonderful birds but me. The pileated is my "I Must See One Someday" bird.
Joy K…
I'm pretty lucky in that seldom a day goes by during which I fail to see a pair or two of pileateds fairly close up…and I can almost spot a bird at will any time—though at more of a distance—by going onto the riverside deck and scanning the woods on the island across from the cottage. Yet as many times as I see these huge woodpeckers, they never fail to astonish me with their size and almost prehistoric look. I hope you get to see one soon.
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