I figure it’s time to lighten things up a bit after that last post, but I find myself mired in the ennui of a cold, apathetic to the point that I don’t even care that I probably am using ennui incorrectly.
Neverthenonetheless, the blogosphere has an apparently boundless appetite for inanities, and I’d be derelict in my duties if I didn’t try to satisfy that hunger even as I stew in a DayQuil®-induced haze. I hope you appreciate my dedication even as you overlook the impact of my lassitude.
Here’s a photo of a thumb-sized tree frog that was roosting — or whatever it is that tree frogs do to while away the hours — on our deck. Just as the swallows return to San Juan Capistrano signals the beginning of spring — or is it the beginning of tax season; I get them mixed up — so does the appearance of surly tree frogs on our back porch. This one is doubly surly because his (or her; I confess ignorance in that regard) preferred hangout is under the cushion of one of the chairs on our deck, but we have them stored away in a cabinet because the squirrels eat them. So, she (or he) is giving me the stink-eye. Can’t say as I blame him (or her).
Sure, perhaps I don’t have the best command of the English language, but at least my job isn’t writing photo captions for a TV station in a major US market.
But, hey…even accurate captions and headlines are subject to misinterpretation, especially if the reader is under the influence of, say, OTC cold medication. My initial visualization of the meaning of the headline in the Wall Street Journal was also subconsciously triggered by other recent Chinese hijinks in the sky.
OK, enough silliness. Well, actually, there will be more silliness; think of this as an intermission.
Debbie and I attended a luncheon on the campus of Texas A&M University (our alma mater) a couple of weeks ago. The luncheon was held at the Clayton Williams, Jr. Alumni Center, a very impressive edifice marked by the presence of a huge and iconic sculpture of the most recognizable class ring on the face of the earth.
We arrived early and started to park in an oversized parking space in a prime location when I noticed a stencil on the concrete that informed me that I should rethink my choice of spots:
Reveille X, a Rough Collie, is A&M’s official mascot. She is the highest ranking member of the Corps of Cadets, and as befits the BDOC who is able to reduce the biggest, baddest football player (as well as this old graduate) to a grinning idiot when given the chance to have his photo taken with her, she apparently merits her own parking spot. It was an honor to simply be right outside the line from her.
So, the fellow leading the discussion in Sunday School last Sunday opening with a provocative (and leading) question: do coffee cups go on the top rack of the dishwasher or on the bottom? There ensued much debate of this serious theological question which inevitably devolved into a husband-vs-wife steel cage match about whose philosophy of loading the dishwasher was more correct. Coincidentally, Debbie and I had just that morning seen this pop up on Facebook:
I thought about throwing out this quote to the class, but I sensed that the teacher was regretting his inflammatory introduction — which, incidentally, had nothing at all to do with our study of the Old Testament book of Joshua — and was anxious to move onto the real reason we were there.
Now, I’ve made my position on the matter clear in a previous post so there’s no point in belaboring the reasons why my lovely bride is wrong. But I do feel that the racoon (sic) on meth reference is a bit over the top, and possibly unfair to trash pandas.
I did later text this meme to the teacher and our Sunday School director, both of whom responded in architectural fashion, so it’s clear that this issue is one that probably arose in the Garden of Eden.
In closing, I’ll leave you with the reaction I’m going to appropriate and use for almost any celebrity news I encounter online in the future. Feel free to make it your own as well, unless, you know, you really do care.
I went back to read your earlier post. The pig rings caught my eye. I laughed at your comments. I shared it with my husband Alan. By the way, your Dad was Alan’s county agent in Wellington and then was his district agent in Ft. Stockton many years later when Alan became Winkler County agent in District 6. Alan’s comment was “Ray used those rings to keep the seat covers on his pickup! “ JE then laughed and laughed and spent many minutes retelling Ray Siegmund stories. He loved & respected Ray so much. Our former home in Kermit was landscaped with Mondale Pines, Cherry Laurels, & Purple Sage that Ray raised from seedlings. When we were I. Ft. Stockton we would always go visit your parents. We continue d to visit your Mom until she moved closer to you. Your parents were a “Norman Rockwell “ couple. They we’re committed Christian & lived their Christian convictions. That’s why I enjoy reading your posts. Thanks for sharing great memories.
Sharron, thanks so much for sharing YOUR memories about my parents. I know the feelings of respect and admiration were mutual.
Dad was kinda like the Johnny Appleseed of Afghan pines throughout West Texas. The golfers in Fort Stockton didn’t greatly appreciated it when he planted a bunch of them on the course. 😂 He provided most of our landscape when we moved to Midland from Dallas in the early 80s, and my brother Brent and his wife Lisa have continued that work with Trans Pecos Plants in Fort Stockton.
Always enjoy hearing from you…many blessings to you and Alan!