Today, Gary and I went to a farm on Sauvie Island to collect some scrumptious strawberries. We came home with a whole slew of them, along with some raspberries, cherries, and real maple syrup. And plus we made some jam.
Bah. So often in my life, I know the difference between right and wrong and I still manage to botch it when the rubber hits the road. Like, I know I should be nice to people. And yet I fail.
So sorry, John Tesh, for being a jerk. I guess some of us do need to be reminded of the obvious things in life.
Spring has finally found its way to Oregon. And with spring comes one of our home’s annual traditions. It’s not a family tradition, mind you, it’s a home tradition. Our house established it before we were in the picture. In fact, it was our house’s welcome gift to Gary and me when we first moved in. And now we have to celebrate it every spring. Ants in the mailbox! This year, it was the nursery wing of the ant colony, so it made me feel a little heartless when I put an ant poison thing into the mailbox. But you know, Henrie family policy. I also put the poison sticks at the base of the mailbox, where the ants were coming from. But here’s the rub. The poison is the kind they take back to the colony to share with all their friends and colleagues. And it takes a few weeks to really get the job done. So after another day of having our letters drenched in ants, I realized I needed to use something with more of an immediate effect. I hunted around our garage for Raid or any kind of instant insect killer. I found nothing. What I did find was my bottle of Kaboom. “Hey hey,” I thought. “DEATH BY SMELL!”
I took the bathroom cleaner outside and sprayed a tiny bit in the upper back corner of the mailbox, away from all the ants (just to see if I could get rid of them without killing them), and shut the door. I checked it a few hours later and walah! It worked brilliantly! There were a few dozen dead ants, but the majority of them had apparently escaped the gas chamber. I cleaned the mailbox out with plenty of Kaboom, and—here’s the best part—they didn’t come back for weeks. I like to think that when the ants were fleeing for their lives, they left don’t-come-back-here pheromone trails. Now I just spray Kaboom around our mailbox every week and the ants stay in the dirt below. Everyone’s happy. Links
Portal: Terminal Velocity: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AsdEXlPsobI Bizkit the Sleep Walking Dog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2BgjH_CtIA One of the radio stations back in Utah had an evening radio show by John Tesh called Intelligence for Your Life. Everytime I heard his voice on my radio, I'd scream angrily and change the channel. Gary had never heard John Tesh's program, so he asked me what I found so maddening. It was hard to describe exactly, but it was essentially how he used his smooth, deep voice to reveal profound, elusive life secrets such as "pessimists are statistically less likely to be positive people". He always acted like he was breaking new ground, and if you didn't take a second to think about the total obvious nature of what he said, you almost found yourself uttering an elightened "ahhh" and joining in the collective nodding of women all across the radio waves.
A few nights ago, Gary and I were watching some clips of past Olympics. We were watching a part of the women's gymnastics competition in 1996 where Kerri Strug clinched the gold medal for her USA team by landing a beautiful vault on an injured ankle. Suddenly, Gary yells, "It's John Tesh! John Tesh is the announcer!" "Um, no, Gary, I really don't think so," I tell the boy who has hardly ever heard John Tesh's voice, let alone developed an angry Pavlovian response to it. After a few more minutes, Gary says, "No, really, it has to be John Tesh." "Gary," I say, "they're not going to have John Tesh announce for the Olympic Women's Gymnastics. The commentator has to be a former gymnast or coach or something." "I swear it's John Tesh. Google it." I gave Gary a look (complete with raised eyebrows). "Google what exactly?" "Um...'Kerri Strug John Tesh'." "Fine." I did so, and ugh, it returned a result from Wikipedia that said, "She then collapsed onto her knees and needed assistance off the landing platform, to which sportscaster John Tesh commented, 'Kerri Strug is hurt! She is hurt badly!' " Sigh. Later that evening, Gary used the word 'progeny' and I laughed at him, saying, "Pretty sure that's not a word, friend." Feeling empowered by the win earlier in the day, he scampered off to google it and found that not only was it a word, but that he had used it correctly and spelled it accurately in his head. Take that, Jody. |
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