In Case You Haven't Heard, Mondays Suck!

Garfield the cat has always warned us about Mondays, but has anyone listened? Nope, I don't think so. But it's the truth, they suck, and they especially suck when you get two in a row. How can you get two Mondays in a row? Monday is a sneaky bastard, when it's a holiday, or even an extra day off from school. Tuesday then fills in for Monday. So sometimes you get two, count' em two, Mondays in one week.

Monday was a real bastard this week. Monday was the last day of Spring break for the rest of the family. Preparations had to be made for Tuesday, the first day back from a week off. This in turn made Tuesday a Monday. But Monday is a hog and couldn't just let it go this week, as it had to have both days. So while I was out getting ready for Tuesday, (the real Monday), Monday reared it's ugly head to show everyone who's boss. After the boys urged me to wash my Chevy Blazer because it sat under a tree for a week that made it dirty, I caved in and went to the car wash. Monday wasn't happy with me cleaning my rig Monday needed to take down a Toyota Prius.

Now you may have heard me call the drivers of the Hybrid gas and electric cars “Pious Prius drivers,” but I'm going to have to take it back this time. With my Blazer still dripping from it's car wash I decided to try to make a left turn onto one of the south bound lanes of a busy 4 lane road that had a turning lane in the middle. Monday decided that it would complicate things, and as I pulled out to turn all Hell broke loose. Monday made a driver decide to turn into the lane I was to go through, Monday turned the driver behind him into a speeding maniac, and made a south bound Prius appear from nowhere all at the same time. With very little time to react I hit the Prius with the corner of my right bumper.

The driver of the other car made it to the curb, and I followed and parked behind him. I screwed up, mainly because I shouldn't have tried to go left at that spot in the first place. He was simply traveling down the road, and I hit his car. I waited for traffic to clear and opened my door. I noticed that I had a dent in my bumper and that was about it. Not a big deal at all, but his car was a mess. His front end was messed up, and his driver's door was crunched.

The other driver got out of his car. He was a gentleman that looked to be in his 60s, and he headed to the sidewalk where I was standing. I started apologizing profusely. Everyone was OK, the man was smiling and told me “don't beat yourself up it was just an accident.” But I kept thinking I shouldn't have made a left in that spot and should have gone right and figured out how to turn around someplace. We exchanged information, and even had a witness show up. My kids couldn't help themselves and had to get out onto the sidewalk and see what happened. They were fine, everyone was fine, and Monday had it's big laugh.

I mentioned that my insurance agent was just down the street, and I suggested that we head there and just take care of everything at once. The driver of the Prius agreed, and we paid a visit to my insurance agent of many years. She was on the phone when we arrived but was off shortly afterwards and I explained to her what had happened. She was fantastic, she gave us accident forms to fill out that she would mail to the DMV for us, and started taking care of my victim. She even recommended a body shop for him to visit. If I had to run into someone this was the guy I wanted to run into. I apologized some more, we shook hands, and he headed to his car. I chatted with my insurance agent a bit about my overall coverage then headed home.

After using a couple tie straps on the plastic of my bumper I finished my errands with the boys. We headed to Wendy's hamburgers for lunch, and I broke my no beef eating diet just this once. The rest of the day was fine, but Monday was waiting for me again on Tuesday.

No, I didn't crash into anything Tuesday morning, but 6:30 a.m. felt like it crashed into my head. I was used to getting up late for the week of Spring break, and now here I was having some coffee and making breakfast for everyone, lunches for the three that had to go to school, and starting off my week in a daze. This morning actually felt more like Monday, and I have way too many things to do. If only I could deal with it like Garfield and put a blanket over my head and sleep through it. It was a frantic morning but then with everyone gone I had my serenity.

I took time to relish the one triumph that I had on Monday. I found the right mixture of boric acid, sugar, and water to wipe out my ant problem. I placed the mixture right on their trail in a small dish, then the pesky little buggers drank it down like tainted Kool-aid. They took doggy bags back to their queen, then died later from lack of insect Pepto-Bismol. BWAHAHA, I am an Ant Bully! It serves them right crawling into my box of granola, and just for your information ants taste like crap.

“Die you little bastards die! BWAHAHAHA!”

As a Chihuahua uses me as a ladder to get down from the back of the sofa I am thankful. Instead of telling Monday to stick it, I'm going to use this hour to write before I start working on my daily drudgery and I'll ask Monday to be kind to me. I'll buy it a doughnut if it's good. I'll write praise for Monday and stop condemning it.

Nah! Monday can stick it where the sun doesn't shine! Up yours Monday! Pfffffffft!

I'm a dead man.

Dan's A#1 sugar ant killing sauce:

Make a mixture of:

• 1 cup water
• 2 cups sugar
• 2 tablespoons boric acid

Mix and serve. It takes a couple of days for them to fill up and croak.

A Firkroy Homecoming

After being on the road it’s good to be home. My neighbor Daryl is up to something, what could it be?

Driving up to your home after being away for over a week is always a good feeling, it was a fun trip but there's no place like home Toto. Speaking of little dogs there was Mausa, our little dog getting walked by the neighbors as were driving up. My oldest son stuck his head out of the minivan’s window, and stated calling his name as we approached the dog walking group. Mausa stopped dead in his tracks with ears at attention, and eyes all bugged out. I’m sure he thought we had abandoned him, he was just getting used to living with the neighbors with the little horse in the back yard, and a bunch of cats. He was in a jumping frenzy when the horde piled out of the minivan.

What's this? I look over at my other neighbor Daryl's house, there is a new platform under the solar panel in his garden, and on the panel is sitting a bunch off stuff. After parking the minivan in the driveway, and then unloading all of our things I get curious. I discreetly spy to see what secrets the platform has to offer, and what do I see? On the platform there is a car battery that is attached to an AC inverter, the kind that converts the 12 volt DC from the car battery into 120 volts AC. And what is all of this powering… a boombox.

OK so, let's see. In order to power a boombox in front of your house (so you can listen to Led Zeppelin) you can either:

1. Create a stand-alone solar power station to power your boombox by:

• Digging a hole.
• Planting a pole.
• Hiring a cement mixer to cement in the pole.
• Purchasing and placing a solar panel on top of the pole.
• Building a platform.
• Buying and placing a car battery on the platform.
• Buying and placing an inverter on the platform.
• Plugging the boombox into the inverter.
• Turning on boombox.

Or you could:

2. Put in four AA Energizers into your boombox, and then turn it on.

Now I’m sure the permanent solar powered boombox station could be used for other things, like lighting up the glowing orb on top of his flagpole for instance, or for a charger for AA batteries, or maybe even an automatic beer bottle opener; the possibilities are endless.

After seeing the contraption that Daryl built I decide that my iPod is seriously in need of some more music. Lucky for me I’m over 50 so everything I like to listen to is cheap. I don’t buy music from Apple, I go down to CD World and get used CDs of Alan Parsons Project’s greatest hits for $5.95 and then rip the CD with iTunes. Hey, I’m thrifty what can I say, my blog address has cheap in its name. I inherited thriftiness from my dad that’s for sure; I just don’t have his fondness for duct tape and super glue.

While I’m writing this I’m listening to my iPod to drown out all of the kid noises that are usually being produced, especially during the summer with school being out. Today my oldest boy had a friend stay the night and they’re busy killing armies of mechanized robots at 8 AM. Ah, to be young with armies of robots with lasers mounted on their shoulders at your disposal. The sound of never ending explosions on a sunny summer day, not quite the smell of napalm in the morning but they’ll have to wait until they’ve moved out of the house before they can blow up real robots.

I was able to finally get caught up on my blog a bit, and review a couple pieces of free software. Next week I’m back to being a reluctant carpenter with all sorts of summer time projects to work on. I also have moss removal duty this week; moss will grow on anything that doesn’t move in western Oregon. It will grow on your driveway, your lawn, and it will even grow on your car if you don’t drive it enough. I’ll be scrapping moss off the roof of our house today; I couldn’t get the roof to move around so of course moss grew on it. I have to get in as much outside work as I can get done in the few dry months we have.

I’ll be enjoying my oatmeal this morning with strawberries sans bug killer, and I’ll be wearing my sombrero today so I don’t get sunburned while scraping moss off of the roof. Enjoy the rest of your Monday morning, and don’t drink instant coffee, it will melt your tongue.

The Squirrels Have Invaded!

Cat headquarters (the kitchen) Monday morning, 06:30 hours...

Two furry carnivores stare through a sliding glass door, scanning the back yard. Dew shimmers on the freshly cut blades of grass, the sun is rising low to the east, and finches swarm the bird feeders. The feeders gently sway on their Vaseline greased poles as the small birds come and go after feeding. Sponge Bob Squarepants can be heard from the living room obsessing about Krabby Patties as children finish their Fruit Loop breakfast.

Misty a one year old gray and white tuxedo cat watches the bird activity with interest; she notices a chubby squirrel foraging for seeds under the feeders. Squirrels often attempt to climb up the pole that supports the feeders, but they only make it half way before sliding down the greased poles, like firefighters responding to a 3 alarm blaze in the middle of the night.

Scruffy, a shaggy 12 year old tom cat was sitting by the door, mainly because he had to go out and pee.

“Scruffy, you wanted to see me?” asked Misty.

“Oh yeah, sure Misty, didn’t see you there.” said Scruffy crossing his legs (because he really had to go).”Yes, thanks for coming by the door this morning.” Scruffy flicks his tail as a squirrel chatters at him from the other side of the glass.

“Well?” said Misty impatiently. “I do have other things to do you know.” Misty bats at a Lego Storm Trooper helmet that is lying on the floor.

Scruffy looked at Misty for a moment, “I wish someone would open this damn door” he thought to himself. He then did some grooming to regain his composure. “The Squirrels have descended upon our backyard, they are raiding the bird feeders and taunting us, it’s just so undignified.”

Misty stopped batting around the Strom Trooper helmet for a moment.

“Well yeah, so” said Misty going back to the helmet.

Scruffy rolled his eyes and then set them squarely on Misty. “I’ve been watching you stalk the squirrels, and you do good work. I don’t have your moves anymore, I’m an old cat, and someone needs to do something about these damn squirrels. If I can’t take them down then who will? The dog! He’s a fool.”

Misty stopped moving for a moment.

“Scruffy, you’ve always thought I was a pest, hissing at me if I get too close, swatting at me as I run by, and you’ve never approved of my friendship with the dog.”

Misty licked a paw, and then rubbed it on her face.

Scruffy watched Misty and said. “You need to take those squirrels down, eat them if you have to, you know, just get them out of our yard.”

“Well, sure Scruffy, anything you want old boy” and with those words Misty looked around and let out a meek meow. “That usually gets a human to open the door” she thought to herself.

A pair of giant legs with fuzzy slippers walked over to the door. “Do you want out kitty kitty?” The voice said from above. The door opened slightly and the two cats slid outside.

Scruffy went off to the left to find some brambles to have some private time while Misty began to stalk the squirrels with the stealth of a Shaolin priest.

“There must be pounds of tasty rodents out there” thought Misty.

But if only she knew what they actually tasted like, she had never actually eaten a squirrel or any other rodent for that matter. She once cornered a mouse in the bathroom but the humans took it away. She wasn’t aware that the only rodent that Scruffy ever had in his face was a mouse with an attitude that attached to his nose. It decided to bite and hold on one afternoon when Scruffy came in close for a sniff. It took Scruffy about a minute to shake loose the nippy rodent. Scruffy won’t talk of the incident because it was so embarrassing, but the humans wish they had it on video.

Misty was on top of her game, moving closer every time the squirrel bent down to grab a seed. Closer, closer, and ever closer she crept zeroing in on the kill zone.

Just then a human slid open the door and -Whoosh- a 5 pound terrier named Mausa rushed out. The squirrel jumped about a foot in the air, then made a bee line straight up a nearby tulip tree. Mausa, with his belly only 3 inches from the ground -part Pekinese and part Chihuahua- raced full speed at the tree; he stopped only a split second before bashing into it. Mausa looked up for a moment; the squirrel was looking down at him giving him the metaphorical finger.

“Better luck next time blubber butt” the squirrel chattered.

Rosetta Stone has yet to unlock the mysterious language of squirrels for dogs so the over grown Chihuahua just sniffed at the tree. Misty was miffed that the canine had screwed up her squirrel catching experience, yet again, and gave him a look.

After a few moments Mausa lifted his leg on a patch of grass, did a quick shake, and trotted back to the house. He sat in front of the door staring in through the glass at the back of a man seated at a desk. The man was intensely typing at a computer and completely oblivious to his staring.

Misty jumped at Mausa, and batted him with retracted claws. “Mausa you bone head, I was about to pounce on that squirrel, you screwed it all up with your impatient chasing”

Mausa didn’t even turn to address her. “Humm, oh it’s you.” He mumbled. Mausa had more important things on his mind like. “Hey! Open the door, I want in, did you drop any cheese on the floor, hey, could you please open the door I want in.”

After a few moments the door slid open. Misty and Mausa hop through the door and head straight to their usual napping places. Scruffy -still outside- lies next to a caged Catnip plant growing in the garden; with glazed eyes he settles in for a nap of his own.

The squirrels go about their business collecting seeds from under the bird feeder. They don’t really feel threatened by the domesticated carnivores; and view the little chases as cardio exercise.

A typical Monday morning at cat headquarters, Mausa finally got some dropped cheese later that day, no squirrel deaths were reported, and a cheap day of entertainment for anyone who was paying attention.

I hate Chickens!

I don’t mean with Barbeque sauce, I mean pecking away in my backyard. It was a black day when my wife decided to become a chicken farmer.

One eventful day 4 years, 1 month, and 3 days ago I arrived home from work to find a plastic tub in the middle of the living room with 4 cheeping, beeping little chicks. We live just out of the city limits of Eugene Oregon; it’s only kind of rural with our neighbor having only a miniature horse in the backyard. If I didn’t outright veto the idea of chickens then my wife takes it as a green light. So I hadn’t really disapproved of the new arrivals but Little did I know what lied ahead, but I had a pretty good idea.

The first thing I was tasked with on the chicken honey do list was to build a coop; I spent a day sawing and pounding away using my meager carpentry skills to make a suitable chicken home. After that I pretty much put my foot down that I wasn’t going to participate in this semi urban chicken ranch other than to do the -your big and strong- grunt labor. I really didn’t want to be involved in the feeding, cleaning, and general caring for the birds. “I’m not a farmer!” I proclaimed…but I end up doing chicken chores anyway.

We put up chicken wire to keep the chicken in their pecking space but, they still get out, crawl under the fence, and start pecking around in the neighbor’s yard. Not the people who have the small horse but my other neighbor who got mad at me when I complained about the smoke coming from his boat engine, it was on a trailer and he was revving the engine. The smoke was entering my kitchen and stinking up the joint. He got back at me by throwing bait fish onto my roof. Luckily old smoky wasn’t home and with the help of the kids we did a commando mission to round them up and put them back in our yard.

I can see the chickens plotting their next move, they cluck to themselves things like “*cluck*, do we go over the fence, or *cluck* do we dig?” They enlisted the dog as an accomplice by luring him in with a half eaten grilled cheese sandwich that was thrown into their yard. The dog dug under the chicken wire to get his prize and in the process dug an escape tunnel for the chickens. The dog has a new harness now that attaches to a rope and stake in the middle of the yard.

Because of chickens I’ve become a mouse mass murderer. Storing big bags of chicken feed and corn in the garage attracts the little buggers like ants to an open jelly jar. If you see one you can bet its brother Squeaky, aunt Jumpy and all of its cousins are hiding in the insulation of your water heater. I hate mice.

My wife mentioned wanting to get a bee hive while driving down the road yesterday. I firmly said “No Bees! I want nothing to do with bees and their little stingers” Please god if you really exist don’t let her get bees!

I hate Bees.