Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Where's My Helmet?

A Compilation of Stoopid.

*Early morning. The sun is starting to ooze sullen over the Sandia Mountains. Nothing is moving except for the Nikster. Nikster the Wonder horse is throwing a bucking tantrum by the fence. I stagger outside and into the barn. The J-Man set up the barn with rotating feeders that allow me to feed without actually setting foot in the paddock with the grumpy horse. I spin the feeder into the barn and fill it with hay and oats.

Then I head back to the house. Nik follows, standing at the gate and shrieking obscenities. Spoiled rotten horse must not like this batch of hay. What-evah. Ignoring the horse, I go in the house, but the racket continues. Finally, I go back out.

I forgot the rotate the feeder back out so the horse could access his breakfast.

*I put the kettle on the stove for hot water. This kettle is a pretty, stainless steel number that is supposed to whistle, but instead splutters and gurgles. I wander back into my office.

An hour later, I emerge from the office, hiss at the bright sunlight spilling from the kitchen window, and sniff. "Smells like something burning."

"D'Oh!" The stupid, whistle-impaired kettle has boiled away all the water. The shiny black surface is now Cajun.

*Stomp away. See a trail of hay--tracked in by yours truly--leading from the door to the kitchen. Get out vacuum and slurk up offensive weed. Kettle has now cooled.

*I put another kettle of water on, this time vowing to check it. A half hour later, I'm in the office, wondering why something feels wrong. The kettle! Bloody hell.

*I run out to the kitchen, and collide with the vacuum cleaner that I left sitting in the hall. I lay in the hallway, wrapped around the machine and wondering if I could get any stupider.

*Unengage from the vacuum cleaner and limp into the kitchen. Pour remaining water from blackened kettle into a cup. Add sugar and lemon. Back in the office, I lift the cup to my mouth. Ugh! Hot, sugary, lemon water. I forgot to add the tea bag.

*As I add the tea bag to the cup, the Greyhound emerges from the bedroom and asks to go outside. Out goes the hound.

*Back to the office. Another hour passes and I think, "I should visit Nik." I go into the kitchen, set my cup on the counter. Glance out the window. An enormous black thing is skulking around the yard! WTF?

Oh. It's the poor Greyhound, the dog that hates being outside. Let in hound.

*The sun makes me hurt, so I look for my hat and sunglasses. Find the hat, but no sunglasses. Look high, look low, look under the Rat Dog. No fucking sunglasses. Perplexed, I start to put my hat on.

Hat doesn't fit because of the pair of sunglasses perched on my head.

Sign me up for a "Stupid" Helmet.

Happy Friday,
P.K.

 

Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005