Done, Done And Done

Welp ... here we are.

The final day of National Blog Posting Month, the 2017 edition.

In truth, it seems like it went by in a rush. All of a sudden, the final day of November is here, Thanksgiving is a distant memory and the last month of the year - with all its pageantry, decorations, lights and music - looms large.

Does that mean the curtain is coming down on blogging, sharing stuff and doling out vital information that needs be doled out for your personal edification? 

Of course not. 

It's just an end to NaBloPoMo, that's all. 

I can satisfactorily state, with emphatic aplomb, the commitment of this little exercise wasn't as difficult as it initially appeared. Blathering each and every day, 30 individual times without a break and without preparing posts in advance ... couldn't that lead to some possible anxiety-inducing disquietude?

Nah. All it took was a little extra thinking, a bit of delving into the past, a few first-hand situations and some imagination. (And, yeah ... I've got imagination to spare, as evidenced by some of the topics I've provided over the course of the month. Possible Nutcracker Of Death, anyone?)

I still have yet to seriously delve all the other participants' blog postings. But I love reading, so that won't be a problem. While I might have set a goal for this week, it's taken a different path and shoved my whims and desires by the wayside.

So ... it's been fun. And inspiring. And enlightening, too. I hope those who have partaken of my assorted brands of monkey business have either been entertained or learned sumpin' useful. Or not. 

Hey, who knows? Maybe I've even won you over on something ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP with the NaBloPoMo posts already, for Pete's sake ... )

Of course, at the very end of it all,
the damned logo has finally gone and righted itself ...

Smile, Darn Ya, Smile

I'm no comedian.

But I can dole out the comedy every now and again.

And let me tell you: It can be tough. 

Along with making people laugh, you run the risk of offending folks/friends/everyone. Or saying something you think is funny but turns out to be the most inappropriate time to lob a verbal barb.

That's the chance you take.

Additionally - depending on the type of chuckle you're shooting for - you run the risk of looking like an insensitive jerkwad. Throw out the occasional sarcastic or dry shot and it can be interpretted in an entirely different manner than projected. And not in a good way.

And, right there, that's the rub. 

But you don't stop. You don't go cold turkey just because something doesn't work. Where it doesn't come off in one particular situation, the exact same comment might work dreamily in another. They can't all be gems, you know.

That being said, here are a few examples I committed over the last few days. Please enjoy:

A friend posted the following: "Confession: I have a slight online shopping habit." My response was not so subtle: "'Slight' ... I doubled over laughing on the floor when I read that word." (She wasn't exactly amused.)

Of the above image, I commented:  "I WANT TO GO TO THAT POND AND CATCH HOTDOGS, TOO ... !!!"

With regard to a photo I posted a buddy's comment about me being "a wise old man" spurred him to into noting:  "Wise sort of old duffus?" to which I replied "(I'm) wise enough to know how to spell 'doofus'" (Which could understandably be construed as me being an all out asshat.)

Again, that's the chance you take.

Oh, sure ... being confidently quick-witted and spewing barbs left and right has gotten me in hot water time and again. But it doesn't stop me. It's a character trait. If you know me, you know I'm prone to do so. If you don't, you'll learn soon enough.

That is, if you're not too offended and hang around to see what sort of (sometimes) caustic wit I actually am....

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

More than a list to the side, wouldn't you say?

I Have A Problem: Follow Up

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh ...

That's better.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP the leaves! )

Movement!

I Have A Problem ...

I have a problem.

(Admittedly, I have many problems. Some are of my own making.)

But let's stay on point here, hokay?

I have a problem. A leaf problem. A debris problem. Specifically, I have a problem with leaves and twigs and other debris littering my driveway. 

Nothing makes me happier than gazing down the length of that asphalt with the hum of the blower winding down, seeing the drive completely unencumbered of the chaff and remains of the trees on either side of it. Pristine, clean and ready to commute upon with nary a snap or crunch of anything underfoot. 

Clear, silent rubber on the road. Soft footsteps keeping rhythm with some unknown tune in my head as I walk its length on the way to the mailbox.

But ... that hasn't happened in days.

Other duties called. Work. The cleaning of the house in anticipation of Thanksgiving guests. Other things that selfishly took my mind elsewhere, somewhere other than the worry of the littered driveway.

It's been over a week now since last I hauled out my electric blower and blew. And yesterday, when I finally had time to do so, the rain came and stayed from the morning right on into the night, mocking my want of leafy riddance.

*sigh*

And still wet from rain, the leaves will remain until they can easily be erased from their temporary blacktop resting place.

Yes, I have a problem ... a persistent, pestering leafy problem ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

Oh sure ... the leaves on that tree can stay stuck to the tree ...

Over And Done

It's Sunday night.

One set of kids left early this morning. They were out the door at 5:00 a.m. in order to beat the traffic. 

Another set was a bit surprised the former took off so early. (There was banter and wagering who would leave first and if there would be driveway congestion with both trying to take off simultaneously.)

The dishes have all finally been cleaned and put away. There were moments when they threatened to overrun the place, showing up in unexpected places. Lingering on counter tops. Forgotten on a side table, discovered some place unexpected. 

Miniature candy wrappers are still being found between couch cushions and underneath the random chair.

There's a lot of laundry to be mastered - towels, linens, placemats, more. 

The games have been retired to their proper places. They all seem to be intact, all their pieces and parts none the worse for wear.

When the refrigerator is opened, there's an almost audible sigh from the many contents still within, courtesy of Thanksgiving. Not all of them will be used. 

The dog is exhausted. He's been sleeping most of the day, realizing the lack of activity buzzing about the house is a nice change of pace.

The house is still standing.

And it's almost disturbingly quiet in its solitude. 

I have to admit: It's kind of nice everyone took off a day earlier than expected in order get to their respective homes and refreshed themselves before the week starts anew. But at the same time, there's an air of loneliness hovering in the air.

It was a lazy day once everyone left. It began to rain as morning ticked closer to noon and hasn't stopped since. A good day for recuperation and reflection. And, uncharacteristically, for a long nap to counter the effects of long nights of competition and revelry and impossibly early mornings which should have been spent in bed until a more reasonable hour. For example: When the sun was above the horizon.

But it was all worth it. Laughter and memories and clogged toilets and picture sharing and lots and lots of learning were committed during the last five days. 

And that's a good thing ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

What? You should be used to this by now.

An Orbit Is Not A Place

Game night. Scattergories. Category? A place. Sub category? "Not On The Planet Earth." The letter "M" is what must be used.

One of the answers? "Mars Rover Orbit."

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooo. I don't think so.

The debate went far and wide. The person using "Mars Rover Orbit" as an answer was working the best argument possible for his case. But no one else was on board his train, including a designated judge whose decision was final. Still, he argued.

And what it came down to was the fact that an orbit isn't a place. It's a course, a path, a route.

Still, the player protested. 

The (eventual) final reasoning for it not being a place was this: An orbit can be a place. But that place is in space. And "space" doesn't start with an "M."

"Mars Rover Orbit" disqualified.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

In space, this could be right side up ...

Dogs

Remember yesterday's post "Drive By" post?

There's more to the story from that morning. After being "accosted" by the little old Chinese woman, Bear and I came to "The Rottweiler House" where two fearsome beasts live. Every time we walk by, the dogs are either fenced within their yard or strapped to leashes outside the house, barking like there's no tomorrow. 

Now, I don't fear dogs in the least. I've been around them my entire life. That doesn't mean I'm not careful and wary around them, however.

They could hear the tinkling of Bear's dog tags as we walked and they know his sound. From a couple doors down they usually begin to "Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!" with enthusiasm, running the length of the fenced yard or straining against their leads in an attempt to get at us when they know we're around.

This time, though, I heard nothing as we approached their house. In an interesting twist, one of the dogs came into view all of a sudden from up the driveway. It walked directly toward us, calmly. 

Bear made a beeline for it. He loves meeting "new friends" ... no matter who they are. I yanked on his lead, forcing him back and away from the Rottweiler. But it continued to approach, uncharacteristically calm and controlled. 

Then it looked at me. The dog's eyes pierced mine with a strange, metallic stare. And that's when I noticed it.

It's laser stare was lifeless and unmoving. The dog was blind. It didn't look at me but in my direction, from the sounds Bear and I were making. That's why it was approaching slowly.

I let Bear gently inch closer. In a few moments his nose nudge the dog in greeting.

That's when the Rottweiler snapped in surprise. I yanked Bear back before it could get a junk of my dog and I put my hand out and on the beast's shoulders. He was startled by Bear's contact, that was all. I had to control Bear's enthusiasm while watching the Rottweiler to make certain the 100 pound plus monster wasn't alarmed further. 

Then, just like that, it turned tail and walked off with a strange, uneven gait. It was partially crippled, I noticed, possibly because of arthritis or some other ailment. I watched as it hobbled back up the driveway, at ease with the smells and familiarity of its surroundings. 

Those big, ferocious Rottweilers who continually barked at us in their yard weren't so daunting after all.

At least the blind one wasn't.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP. )

"Dive! Dive! Dive!"