Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Wednesday Wa Pic - Jack of all trades, masta of one



 They say it takes 10,000 hours of practice to master something. I am thinking that number is high.





Sunday, April 19, 2015

Interview with Earth

Earth Day is Wednesday, so I decided to interview the Earth just to see how things are going. We agreed to meet at a farmer's market where, she said, "I do some of my best work." We met up at the artisanal candle table.

Earth: (sniffing a lychee-pomegranate blend) I'll never understand what kind of "farm" these come off of.

GW: Same one where they harvest kettle corn. So, next Wednesday is "you" day. How do you feel about that?

Earth: And the other 364 are...whose days? The moon's?

GW: I think Donald Trump called dibs, but I get your point. Why do we "celebrate" your bounty only one day a year when, for example, Mardi Gras gets a couple weeks.

Earth: Right?

GW: Knowing people as I do, let me just say you are lucky we stop gazing at shiny things long enough to remember, even for a day, that if not for you, we'd all still be particulates floating aimlessly on the solar wind.

Earth: Yeah, mass and gravity were some of my finest riffs. Not to mention the fruiten plains. Yosemite. Jumbo shrimp. I pretty much ran the table; you feel me?

GW: I do, but in the last few years there has been a lot of talk about how we humans have caused your temperatures to rise higher than ever by burning all kinds of things.

Earth: You folks do like your Airbuses. Ha ha, higher than ever, though? You should have been around during the Cretaceous. That was some armpit weather. Look, George Carlin did a whole standup bit about climate change, and what he said was true. You don't have to save Earth. I will be fine. It's all of you who are on your way out.

GW: Not just us, but the panthers, the rhinos, frogs, bees, millennia of evolution, falling like dominoes.

Earth: I bet you go over big at parties, don't you, G-dub? Hey, nothing lasts forever. I love me some bees, but listen; you decide to roast yourselves and every other living thing? Gimme a billion years. I'll make more. It's how I roll.

GW: It won't be the same. It'll be, like, lizard people and stuff.

Earth: I could do worse. Anyway, it's up to you. You have a little time left either way.

GW: That sounds hopeful.

Earth: Honey, hopeful is my stock in trade.









Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Wednesday Wa Pic - Pong edition



 In the nut aisle, to target that hard-to-reach "wild sleepover" demographic.






Sunday, April 12, 2015

Husbandly errand goes wrong while seeking a simple six pack

They completely remodeled my local hardware store, so now I can't find any of the things I would have bought with the best of intentions but then let sit in my garage for years from a lack of follow-through. It is almost as if my wife had a hand in this.

The word "garage," derived from the French, means, quite literally, "procrastination on parade." There are the rolls of chicken wire intended to keep the critters out of the raised vegetable beds I never built. Their steel, glinting from a crowded corner, is the only aspect of that project which ever got galvanized. Then there are the acoustic ceiling tiles I never installed. The stained glass window.

The French have a lot to answer for.

I called my wife from the hardware store. I think I was in Tools, or where Tools used to be. There were an awful lot of paint cans. I was looking for a hose repair kit. I know, right?

I asked my wife if she needed me to pick up anything. She told me I could get her four or five six-packs of flowers for the front porch pots, which currently feature bare dirt as a design motif, as does California.

I found my way to Garden, which wasn't anywhere it should have been. Spotted some nice petunias. Four six-packs, I thought?! I was looking at a rack about two feet long and a foot wide with six containers of flowers on it. That's a lot of flowers for five little pots! I called my wife. Yes, four six-packs, she said. So I filled the entire hatch of the car and came home.

Turns out I bought something called "flats," which indeed have six-packs on them. SIX six-packs per flat. She wanted 24 flowers. I brought home 144. How can I live half a century, you ask, and not know what a six-pack of perennials is? My role when it comes to gardening has always been in the hacking-down arena, not the planting.

I returned three of the flats and picked up that hose repair kit. For once I did not let the thing sit in the garage for five years. I cut off the head of the broken hose and repaired it on the spot. Five minutes. I watered the pots of new flowers. They smelled like absolution.




Readers may contact George at george@georgewaters.net


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Wednesday Wa Pic - Monkey Transport Vehicle


 You've got kids, right? Don't tell me you never wanted to just tell it like it is...