DON'T LEAVE MY HUSBAND!

Expecting the day to warm up, we left for the festival with a little less clothing than was comfortable.  We got off the shuttle bus and the temperature started to plunge.  Soon it was drizzling; then the bottom fell out.  We hunkered down and ate hot dogs under a tent, shivering and waiting for the next shuttle bus.

By now my husband George was turning into an icycle, so we went to the gift shop and bought a fleece jacket.  Back at the bus stop, our friend (also an icycle) said, "Where'd you get that jacket?"  George walked him to the gift shop.  Pretty soon, the bus showed up.  But George didn't. 

No worries.  The bus driver was real laid back.  He was cutting up and joking with everyone as we boarded the bus, and we were all having a good old time.  Still no George.  I stared out the window.  Just when I saw him coming, the driver closed the doors and took off.

I sprung out of my seat yelling, "Wait, wait!  You're leaving my husband!"  But we kept rolling as the driver continued joking around and didn't have a clue I was having a fit back there.  I lurched forward yelling, "Wait!  Wait!  My husband's coming!"  Everyone on the bus heard me except the driver.  I finally reached the front and he stopped the bus and asked, "Where is he?"

"Back there where you just left him," I said.  I bolted out and started yelling to George to hurry up.  When he got in, the driver, still laughing, asked him, "What are you doing?  You paid me $20 to lose her!"

But I got George back!

NOISY COMPUTER

I, the owner, have the oldest, most rickety computer in our business.  I brought it home a few months ago.  It was old then and it, like me, is creaking louder every day.  It's so loud that I can't use the speaker phone on my desk.   I work upstairs, and it's so loud that I can't hear my husband call me from downstairs.  It has a DVD drive that works when it wants to. Sort of like the cat. 

But now!  At long last!  I have a 'better" computer!  I haven't taken it out of the car yet.  What's the hurry?  The old humming computer still has some spunk left in her.

I also have a "better" desk for this better, younger computer.  Half of the desk is upstairs now.  The other parts are in the garage waiting for someone to get a burst of energy.

Sure, I'm excited about the better desk and computer.  But I kind of like my old humming, creaking, not-retired-yet friend.  It knows more stuff.  This young whipper-snapper needs a lot of information uploaded into it.

CATS DON'T ADAPT

Mojo doesn't like changes in his world.  We bought him a fine new crapper (litter box) with a swinging door so the litter would stay in and the cat could get out. 

For the first twelve hours or so, I figured he was just holding it in.  I told myself that he would have to go eventually.  Thinking the swinging door might have him spooked, I removed it but left the cover on the contraption.  Surely he wouldn't mind stepping through the large entrance to his throne.  After another twelve hours, I thought he might be constipated.  Then another twelve hours or so went by and I caught him going in the closet.

I took the lid off the crapper and am now sweeping up kitty litter again.  Mojo gets his way, once again!

COORDINATED

A friend said to me the other day, "You're always so coordinated."  I asked her if she meant my clothes or my feet.

We lived in Geneseo NY when Susan was a baby.  There's a lot of snow there.  I can't skate or ski, and I don't do well walking in snow, either.  Every day I had to walk to the car with Susan in my arms.  One day the inevitable happened.  I slipped and Susan went flying, landing face down in the snow.  Praise God she wasn't hurt, but her little face was covered with the icy stuff and she was not a happy camper!

I never fell with her again after that day, but whenever I slipped and almost fell, she grabbed me like a little monkey holding on for dear life!

ZIG ZIGLAR FOR PRODUCTION PROBLEMS?

Why am I reading Zig Ziglar's "Secrets of Closing the Sale" to learn about persuasion techniques?  Who's the boss here?  I'm the mom, the president, and the owner.  (Of course, it's really my husband and me, but he's on my side.  I think.)

We have set up our shop so that there is one corridor through it.  When an obstacle gets in that path, it separates production tables from materials, sawing room from tools, work stations from bathrooms, vehicle wrap area from the vinyl to wrap it, and (God forbid!) work areas from smoking spot!

Five weeks ago our new, expensive 54" printer was assembled and placed in that corridor.  My son doesn't want to move the printer to a safer place for a dozen legitimate reasons.  We're in a standoff.  Stay tuned for the rest of the story!

BUNCHING BEES

In the business world, you run into all kinds of obstacles. Our latest was honeybees. Jason installs vinyl outside, and the heat this summer has caused many difficulties. About the time the weather eased up, the bees came. They apparently got the notion that there was some nectar somewhere (vinyl nectar?) so they started looking for it in Jason's hair, clothing, toolbox, and on the vinyl he was installing.

Jason was at his wits' end. The insect repellents he had tried didn't repel honeybees, so he had resorted to squirting them with alcohol. (He uses that to install vinyl.) He worked a little, swatted a little, and squirted a little. He was as busy as a bee, so to speak. He looked at us forlornly and pleaded, "Can't you do something?"

We went to Lowes and looked at the flying insect killers, but there weren't any for bees. We figured that, since the insect repellent didn't repel bees, the insect killer probably wouldn't kill them. We decided on a bee trap, and it worked. Jason's happy - and productive - again!

George calls it "Bunching Bees." I never heard that term, but every day I find out how much I haven't heard of!

PEANUTS

I have always taken excellent care of my car - except for the peanuts. I was driving my twelve year old son Grumpy (aka Fred) to Florida. We were within three hours of our destination when I spied a roadside peanut stand. Fred wasn't too happy about it.

Back in the car, I got a hankering for those peanuts. I looked at Fred and he looked at me, and I said, "Your dad isn't here. Let's make a mess!" He grabbed the bag and we dug in. We started shelling, and throwing peanut hulls everywhere, including out the window.

We traded the car last week, and I think it still had some peanut hulls in it!

BATHING A CAT

I did not try this at home. You have to be out of your mind to attempt to bathe a grownup cat - unless you're that lady on TV who demonstrates all kinds of tortures on a cat that she has previously drugged.

My daughter told me that she would throw her two cats in and close the door and they would jump around to get wet and then she'd take them out and put soap on them and throw them back in, shut the shower door, and they would jump around to rinse.

My sister's story is, " I remember that Sam and Midnight could walk up the tub wall!! That is when I stopped bathing cats."

No thanks. Not for me!

If you've got some good cat tales, send them over and Hugh Mouse will include them in one of his stories! J

NEW CAR

“You made me love you – I didn’t go to do it! Didn’t go to do it!
You made me love you – and all the time you knew it. I guess you always knew it!”

I drove the car ten feet and fell in love. The salesman reluctantly let us give - er, trade - him our beloved twelve year old baby. (What's that in car years?) It looks and smells SO NEW! We park it where it can't get dings. We've had it 13 days now and I have only tried to get into a stranger's car three times so far.

However, it isn't easy being putrid green (I think it has another name at the dealership). But, as with marriages, there are some things you have to learn to love.