What do I know?

Ralph mentioned that he read the blog from yesterday and that on the flooring test, the marinara sauce doesn't look like marinara sauce. People, work with me! It's a restaurant. We don't keep the cats there. It was definitely marinara sauce; ask Deborah, she put it there. As for Ralph, he obviously spends too much time around the litter boxes. And I, for one, am not complaining about it!

I worked all day yesterday in the zen garden and on other outdoor cleaning projects. Got a lot accomplished. When I go out there, I dress in my oldest and ugliest clothes, put on a scarf to keep the bugs out of my hair, and wear sunglasses to create some aspect of anonymity. Not so sure that works. My neighbors always see me in this get-up, so I'm sure they know it's me.

  

Anyway, I was out there working diligently. I just sneezed, my pants were hanging off my hips, and I'm sure I looked relatively scary when the guy who does the work on the community property pulled up on his stand up tractor. He introduced himself as Kip. I see him all the time. He wears sunglasses, ear protectors, and this very clever pointed bamboo hat. I thought he was Oriental or Hispanic. What do I know from afar? He's neither. I figured he came to mow my lawn.

No, he came to chat. As I said, what do I know? He told me he's been around for a long time doing the grounds. Actually, I never realized it was the same guy. I thought it was several different Orientals or Hispanics. Whatever. As I said, what do I know?

He told me how he watched the progression through the years of my pool deck and how much he really likes the pavers. We discussed that for awhile. Then, my right nares started to drip. Since I sneezed before his arrival and had no opportunity to go to the garage to get a tissue, I had to quietly sniff. He kept talking. The sniffing wasn't working too well. He continued talking, turned his head, and I frantically wondered if I could quickly wipe my nose on my shirt. UGH! How gross! The moment passed and he turned to face me. I kept thinking this conversation is never going to end. My nose is soon going to be running down my face. I desperately wondered if he noticed anything. He asked if I saw my neighbor, Harold, lately. It just went on and on.

  

He left. I was relieved. Then he turned and came back. He said, "Every time I think of Harold, I think of 'Harold, turn up the mic.'"  I never noticed that Harold wore hearing aids or that he was hard of hearing. While I was thinking that, Kip said, "You know, from Woodstock." I laughed and said, "Oh yea!" And waved him on his way.

OMG, no, I don't remember that from Woodstock. All I remember is the nudity, rolling in the mud, smoking weed, and general chaos. I know this from the news, not from personal experience. Or perhaps Deborah told me; I think she was there. She likes that sort of stuff...talking music, here. There was lots of music, and among the few things I know, I know she likes music.

As I said, what do I know? Well, one thing I know is that pants hanging around the hips is neither sexy, comfortable, nor attractive. It's gross and disgusting. Too bad all those kids walking around looking like jail birds don't know it too. Right, they do know, they just don't care. I know that. Oh, and I also know that for the number of times a day I sneeze, I should always carry a tissue in my pocket. And I also know I will never wipe my nose on my shirt. How about you?