Happiest place on earth

Though it may have been a long drive down, it is well worth it. WG worked on some crossword puzzles and kept asking me for help. I try to make it a practice of having no cross words between us, but I help when I can.
After an hour she had to put them away. She said they were making her ill. I asked her why and she said it was the tiny letters. I had to throw in, ‘Well, it’s a small word after all!’ That got me poke in the arm with her pen.
A six hour drive to LA to see our son and his new puppy. Oh yes, and meet his roommate. Playing with a five month old Jack Russell Terrier is a lot of fun for a while, then you start looking for the off switch and you remember that puppies do not have an off switch. Still, cute is cute.
We spent a fun three days visiting and just relaxing. It takes a few days to unwind from the real world and pack up your troubles in your old kit bag.


Then it was off to Disneyland to meet Wonder Girl’s sister and family.

Disneyland is still a fun place. Lots to do and see. The rides change a bit, get spruced up and you really have to admire the amount of work they put into things. At the gate, it seems expensive, then you see all the little details that they put into things and you understand.
The Jungle cruise is still fun and they recently redid it. The new puns are just as corny and wonderful. I am not sure if it is my age, but I did notice a few scuffs. I suppose they cannot maintain and repaint as often as they used to. Still, the people are very friendly and their desire for you to have a good time seems in earnest.

And then there are the people to watch. Moms and dads trying to keep their little ones in check. The little ones seem to want to run everywhere at once. So excited. At the end of the day, the little ones get tired and sometimes cranky. Well, so do us older folks. My calves are still a little sore from all the walking!

The other amusing thing is seeing the teenage girls dressed up and trying to look hot. The amusing thing is that a lot of them fail to realize that when you have a fat little tummy, no one wants to see it sticking out, or lapping over your too-tight pants! As my strange friend DAC says, ‘Waist not, flaunt not!’ And yes, there are adults who forget this.

Met a cute little Australian woman in the smoking zone(there are very few of these) She knows about sunscreen, as did most. But you do see your share of lobster-people. Yes, they will hurt, but they are having fun.

Two days, between both parks was tiring, but not enough time to enjoy everything. You need a good two full days to see all of Disneyland, one day for the California Adventure. But alas, we had but two days.

Then the long drive home and reality creeps in. The sprinklers kept it all watered, so of course it grew. Now we have to mow and trim. Our weekend will be full.

Tails of the back yard

So we are now pretty well set. The last part of the sprinkler system is in. I hooked up the drip mist sections to the ferns, added a few to some big flower pots. And then turned the stations on one by one and adjusted the head. Looks good and I am pleased. Now, when we go on vacation, the lawns will not die and all the potted planed that Wonder Girl carefully tends, will be safe too.

There is still much to do before we are off on vacation.

Since it is summer and things are drying out, it’s time for the local wildlife to come browsing.
Can’t do too much about the birds, but the roof rats have started to show up. We don’t get many, but we usually see one a year. They are attracted by the plants and vegetable garden.
WG saw a large on last week, but Tommy (aka the Guardian pup) was snoozing and he missed it.
So, after I take Tommy to the kennel, I’ll put out the traps again. You can’t use poison because if Tommy catches a half dead rat, it will poison him too.

And the city frowns on shooting off a shotgun, in the city limits.

Maybe I could buy a pellet pistol?

A song in my head

You know how you get a song going through your head?
Last month, after a long dusty day of doing yard work, it was shower time.
I turned to Wonder Girl and inadvertently said.
'Well, I'm off to clean the wizard!'

PINING WOMAN

Read the next post first, then you will understand why I wrote this.

PINING WOMAN
By GW Hogg
September 17, 1998


Louisiana fires are burning somewhere,
tonight.
And I sit here wondering
where the chard remains are buried.
Monroe, Kansas, Idaho, California,
have all been touched,
or torched.

Week after week
we heard your quiet voice
Speak of a lost lover
felt your passion,
burn.

For the man you loved
was somewhere else
married to another,
as are you.

So I began to wonder
about this woman
aflame with passion
for the man she could not have.

Why did she leave?
What was the sin of their affair.
And was it the forbidden
that made it burn so hot.

And I pitied her,
being torn from the man
who lit her fires.
And wondered why she left him.

Then I realized,
that my pity.
belonged to another,
her husband.

For she was lost
before they met
and would still be lost
when she left.

The poor man
could not comprehend
her pain for another
nor ease it.

And in her attempts
to replace the man she cannot have,
Who else would her fires lick
besides my classmate?

I try to comprehend
this passion that she feels
compare it to my own
and do not understand.

For my passion sleeps at my side.
a constant ember,
always ,
ready to ignite

And the pining woman will know no rest.
For she cannot be happy where she is,
and will not find joy with him
Will only death’s embrace
extinguish her fires?

A Smile is Just a Smile

Bullshit

There are so many smiles. A smile can change a plain woman into attractive. In fact, a pretty woman without a good smile can cease to be pretty. How attractive a woman is can depend simply on her smile. Now I am not talking pretty vs. beautiful vs. plain vs. cute. I am simply saying, does the person attract you, or not?

And it doesn’t have to be a pretty smile, it can be a warm smile, a cute smile, or a mischievous smile. Something that lights up the face, and makes the eyes sparkle. Something that says there are interesting thoughts going on behind the face.

And a smile can ruin a face.

Take the pining woman.

The first night of a new semester and as I walk into the creative writing class, I scan the room.
The tables are all in the center of the room, I move to the left. There is an attractive blonde on the right side. My glance brushes past her. So lightly that she is unaware.
Blonde, shoulder length, pretty face, blue eyes. Well dressed, as if she works in an office in the city.

I sit across from her and to the left, set my coffee down and the folder of stories. I have two stories ready for the first night. I know the routine for class and I am ready. And I glance up and to the right at the pretty blonde. Our eyes meet, I smile, she smiles. The world freezes.
Alarm bells go off in my head.
The bos’n mate begins screaming ‘Dive! Dive! Dive!’
I feel claws sink into a part of my anatomy, that claws have no business sinking into; especially for a married man!
Red lights flash DEFCON4.
I feel a chill.
Warning! Self-destruct sequence will begin in five seconds!
I have an almost overwhelming urge to get up and run from the room.

I drop eye contact and turn to the left as the instructor walks into the room.

‘What the hell was that?’ I wonder as the instructor begins to talk. I have never had that kind of reaction. I dare not make eye contact again. There is something weird going on here. More than me just having too much coffee today.

I am going to have to stay well away from this woman, don’t sit across from her. I don’t know why

Puzzled, I pay attention to the class.

Once a week, we have class. People bring in stories, poems; read them; get feedback. The blonde woman has poetry. Lots of it, and it seems good. And I begin to understand.

She lived in New Orleans and began an affair with her college professor. She fell in love with him and he said he would leave his wife to be with her. And something happened and she left. Traveled. Ended up in California. And began to wait, as she is still waiting. Waiting for a man who will never come to her. Who has told her he can’t leave his wife to be with her.
Every week, she reads her poetry; we learned the depth of her feelings. For she wrote well, though perhaps I did not catch all the nuances. I am not good at poetry. But it was clear how in love she was with the man she could never have.

When class ended, we all went to Julie’s apartment for a little get together. Maybe ten of us and not the pining woman. We learned more.

As she has pined for this man, she had gotten married to another. One night, while sitting in one classmate's car, she poured out her heart about her feelings, then grabbed him and kissed him. Long, hard and deep.
We all agreed she was trouble and troubled.

And for whatever reason, at a visceral level, I was warned.

So I pay attention to smiles.

Imagining the past

So I have been emailing DO from high school. It's been fun talking about what we remember of the students, teachers. One teacher in particular was quite popular with the guys, and she did not seem to mind the attention too much.
And that reminded me of the story I wrote years ago. It's a small piece of a larger thing.


Honor Student
Ann I
By GW Hogg
©3-24-00

“I don’t want to do anything that will get me in trouble.” She said as she finished filling her glass of wine.
I put down my coffee and walked over to her, thinking about what she really meant. This was the moment, now or never.

All our time spent alone in her apartment. All the long talks we had. Her telling me about the little town she grew up in and how she was one of the few girls who didn’t graduate pregnant. I understood the implication, she was careful. The discussions of English writers and the authors real meaning. What a ‘vorpal blade’ really was!
I don’t know how or why, but one day after class, she invited me to her apartment. Fresh out of college, maybe she liked that one of her students enjoyed her class, actually got something out of it. Maybe I was actually interested in learning something, not trying to endure summer school like the rest of my classmates. Maybe I also paid attention because she was young and gorgeous. Most of my other teachers were much older. But I enjoyed the class and watching her. Her big smile and the way she would laugh.
And now I found myself walking towards her, taking the glass out of her hand and carefully placing on the counter in her small kitchen.
“I won’t tell.” I said and gently kissed her on the cheek.
“Reg, I can’t. I could get into so much trouble.”
I took her hands and kissed them. Held them and looked into her eyes.
“Reg…”
I kissed her on the lips. Softly, just a taste. I looked into her eyes again and when I kissed her again, she pulled back just a little, paused; then she opened her mouth and devoured me.
Buttons, belts and bra straps fought us, but we won. There were long scratches on my back from her pulling off my shirt, her zipper got broken. As I fumbled with my pants, she pushed me into her bedroom, onto her bed and stripped the rest of my clothes off. I fumbled a lot, but she was a patient teacher. There is a difference between a woman and a teenage girl, a wonderful difference that I discovered that night.

In the rosy pink light of dawn, I awoke and cuddled next to her. As I kissed her, she woke up and this look of horror crossed her face.
“Oh My God! What have I done!”
Stunned, I could only watch as she leapt out of bed and grabbed a robe from her closet.
“Ann? What?”
“Oh God, what was I thinking! I could get into so much trouble! I could lose my job!”
“I don’t understand.”
She sat on the bed and looked at me. The emotions on her face were too complex for my young mind to understand. “Ann?”
“Reg…Reg, we have done a terrible thing. Please, promise me you’ll never breathe a word of this!”
“But…”
“Not a word! Oh, what was I thinking!”
“Ann.”
“Promise me!”
“Okay,” still not comprehending. “I’ll never mention this to anyone.”
“Do you swear?”
“Yes, I swear I’ll never tell a soul.”
“Reg, you’re a wonderful young man.”
“But.”
“But we should never have done this. I am too old for you and there are laws.”
“But I thought.”
“Oh you dear sweet guy, of course I am fond of you, who wouldn’t be! But this can’t happen between us.”
She started picking up her clothes and I gathered up mine and slowly got dressed. We didn’t say much, I didn’t know what to say. I felt crushed and rejected. I guess she sensed my mood, for she came to me and gave me a big hug.
“Reg, you were wonderful, better than most. If you were just a year older, I wouldn’t have to worry about the age difference.”
“But it’s there.”
“Yes, it’s there, damn it all. I do enjoy your company and lord knows I enjoyed last night.” She smiled at me and I felt better. “We can only be friends, no we better not even be that. Reg, if we still spend time together, people might wonder.”
“And if they wonder, that’s all it will take for you to lose your position.”
“You understand.”
“I guess I do, but I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either.”
“Okay, I guess I can handle it. It’s not me.”
“No, never you.” And she surprised me by giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to have to be hard on you in class.”
“I understand, we don’t want people to get ideas.”
“And.”
“And I can’t come over here anymore.”
“No, I am sorry.”
“I’ll remember.”
“Do that. Remember a woman who risked jail for a night with you.”
“Thank you, I will.”

I felt a lot better as I walked home that warm summer morning.

Or

“I don’t want to do anything that will get me in trouble.” She said as she finished filling her glass with wine.
I picked up my coffee cup and walked over to her, thinking about what she really meant.
“Just a little wine?”
“No, sorry.”
“Then I guess I’ll have some more coffee.”
“Okay. Now, what did you mean when you said that you didn’t understand what Bram Stoker meant by…

Bring out your dead II

Yes, we are dead today. After a marathon of work over the weekend, all of you muscles ache.
I spent a good part of Saturday, under the house, running the new water line to the backyard sprinkler valves.

I need the pipe to go forty feet under the house, turn right for about ten feet, then straight again through the wall in the front of the house.
Chip a hole in the stucco, then drill a two-inch hole through a 4x6. Push in a ten-foot length of PVC pipe. Enough to go across the house to the existing water line. Then feed in ten feet of PVC pipe, glue on a coupling and another ten feet; until forty feet of pipe is under the house.

Now the fun begins. With a tub of all the tools I need, it’s time to crawl under the house. This is a job for a tiny person, but it has to be me.
It’s all crawling on your stomach work. Keep your butt low, there may be nails above you. Rocks and hard dirt dig into your hands and chest. Dirt gets scooped into your pants.
Put on a strap, crawl six feet, put up another strap. You get to the bend, glue on an elbow, spill the can of glue. A full can of glue. The solvent fumes fill the air. I am sure it’s just not healthy.

A little air blows in through the vent. You strap the pipe to the floor joists and crawl away from the fumes. You find the spot in the front wall, drill the hole, roll onto your back and stare up at the pipe that is too short. Okay, it’s a ten to fifteen minute crawl back to the crawlspace access door. Get…you measure…eighteen inches of pipe; then crawl all the way back. I wish my friend Skinner lived close by. She is short and was in the military. She should be a crawling expert. But being a wimp, I know she would not do it.

I grab my cell phone and call Wonder Girl. I can hear her footsteps above as she gets to the phone.
“Hi Honey, can you do me a favor?”
“Everything okay down there?”
“Yes, but I need a little more pipe. Can you cut me an eighteen inch piece of the one inch pipe in the Garage? Then feed it through the hole by the front faucet? Then feed the rest of the pipe through the same hole?”
“Sure.”

Maybe five minutes later, the pipe comes through the hole. It’s not just cut to the correct size; but the burrs have been sanded off, inside and out. Is there any doubt why I call here Wonder Girl? In minutes I am done and it’s the long crawl to get out.

Sunday, we rent the trencher, dig the trenches. Hand dig some spots. Lay out the pipe, fittings, sprinkler heads. Measure, cut pipe, glue. We work well together, to each according to their needs, from each according to their abilities. We started at eight am, by nine pm we are filling in the trench. Dead tired, but ninety percent done.

And Monday we are sore and tired. And while I sit in my comfy office chair and juggle parts, Wonder Girl is finishing up with filling the ditch and getting the dirt off the lawn before it kills it.

There is no stopping Wonder Girl.

You don’t know me.

So, PB asks if I have heard anything of a 30 year reunion. No, for she is my conduit to that world.
The I get email from Pcakes, who happens to work with a gal from my high school. Strange connections. So I pass the info to PB. And to be a nice guy, pull some names off the bulletin-board, and pass the info on to them.
Two emails bounce, of seven, not bad. Some were to people I barely knew.

And an actual answer!
So for the past two days, I have been exchanging emails with DO. I don’t think I ever said a dozen words to her in High School. (We won’t go into the strata of that world, yet)

Anyway, It’s been fun exchanging info with her. She traveled in different circles and only occasionally the edges of our circles intersected.

She’s been married for twenty three years, three kids, nice marriage; sounds pretty good. Lives maybe fifteen miles away.

Add one person to talk to.

Oh, PB will be my date, like the other reunions. It’s getting to be a tradition.

I don’t like you.

Interesting, a few weeks ago, when I went in for the bi-monthly blood donation.
As I walked up to the technician, my first thought was, ‘I don’t like you.’ I don’t know why. She was a nondescript woman of about forty. She was competent, but not good. I can’t there was anything bad about her. I just didn’t like her.

Oh, and they have changed the questions and they ask them verbally now! Boy, talk about tiresome!
Did you have sex?
It’s okay for love, but not for money, or drugs.
Hmmm…Gas, Grass or Ass, nobody rides for free. (does barter count?)
Did you have it on a train?
Did you have it on a plane?
Do you like green eggs and Ham?
Sam I am…
But I digress

I’m gonna have to think of some new material to keep it amusing. Twitchy was the one who asked the questions. Poor gal seemed twitchier today. Now I like her, despite the fact that she is a bit of a Gorgon.

Who knows why, I certainly don’t.

Stories from the wilderness

The annual fishing trip
The river at High Bridge campground was running fast and high. We unpacked the truck and set up camp, eager to go fishing. However, stream fishing season does not start till Saturday, so now it is all talk and getting to know one another again. A’s three sons, Thomas 8, John 20, Chris 25; Gary(Chris’s friend 25). Later that night, Chris and John’s cousin Sean arrived, with his girlfriend Jenny, and Chris and John’s two half-brothers, Artie and Kevin.

It was fun for Al and I to listen to the younger guys talking trash about how many fish they would catch. Well, Chris (the lip) was the biggest talker. Ignore that Al and I each out fished him the last two years. But that is part of the game. Later, some of the young guys got in to a discussion about which of their two football teams was the best, would be the best. But all this talk kept the camp warm.

Saturday dawned warm and full of promise. We all worked the creek, scrambling over rocks and steep banks. Few nice pools and eddies to fish. The river is so full and fast, that the known spots are not there.

Al gets a nice twelve inch trout in a pool above the ‘swimming hole’. A nice fish for the creek. We have fun that day, some bites, some nibbles, a few little ones that get away, but no one else brings home a fish.
The fish becomes part of our dinner.

We fish a little more after dinner and Thomas says he saw a really big fish near the ‘swimming hole’.

The second day, we try another stream. The fish are not cooperating and rain forces us to move on. We drive to the other side of the lake, beyond the rain, and try another stream.
We spread out along the steep banks.. Some jump from boulder to boulder, into the middle of the river. John misses a jump and gets wet up to his waist, and a nice scrape on the chin.

I get three little fish, throw two back. The third had swallowed the hook, so I keep the little nine inch fish. But my little hole gets me nibbles and bites and I am having fun.
Al and Thomas come by, they want to head back. They are getting nothing. John and Artie join us.

On our way back, we try another stream and get nothing, so back to camp.

After a late lunch and a cold beer, we relax. Not a great day, but not bad for me.

Thomas still wants to go back to the ‘swimming hole’ and try for the big fish he saw. So Al and I agree to try once more.

It’s a short walk to the spot. Al takes the top of the boulder and fishes the pool on that side, Thomas and I take the safer spot on the shore and fish the small pool on this side of the boulder.

Suddenly Al calls out that he has a fish. I look up at him, twenty feet above me and his pole is just moving a little.
“It’s a big one. Someone get the net” Al’s a pretty calm fisherman and I detect an edge to his voice. I set my pole to the side and go get the net. It didn’t feel like a time for Thomas to be the net man.

By now Al has guided the fish to our side of the boulder, but he cannot climb down the steep face of the huge boulder and land the fish.
As Al coaxes the fish towards me, I try to get under him, but the rock is too steep. So throwing caution to the wind, I put one foot in the water and then step onto a small boulder directly under him.
The fish is huge!
Kneeling, I stretch out over the water and try to dip the net in front of the fish as it swims past. Unfortunately, between the cloudy water, the glare of the sun on the ripples and the trout’s coloration; I cannot see the fish when he is directly in front of me.
Al has the drag set really light and the fish can almost swim where ever it wants. He guides it, coaxes it in front of me three more times before I can see it, dip the net and catch the monster.

Thomas is jumping up and down on the bank all excited. I carefully make my way to the shore and Al works his way down the boulder, grinning like a son-of-a-bitch.

The fish is big, looks like 24 inches long.

“Thanks for the assist.” Al says.
“No problem. I was just afraid I’d screw it up and lose your fish.”
“Sorry you had to get your shoe wet.”
“It was worth it.”

Thomas gets the stringer and I hand Al my pliers. The little hook is just barely in the lip. In a second, the hook is out and stringer hooks the fish through his gills. Al places the fish in the water, now kept from escaping by the stringer.

“Well, I’m done fishing.” Al says, the big grin still stuck on his face.

Thomas and I try a little longer then call it a day.

Al lets Thomas carry the trout back to camp. Everyone at the other camps were impressed.

But the best was when Chris(the lip) gets back to camp and sees the huge fish his dad caught. The best way to shut up cheap talk is to quietly prove it wrong.

Nose to tail, the trout was 21 inches long. The scale showed three pounds, but are not sure how accurate it was. It was the biggest fish anyone in the group had ever pulled out of that creek.

All in all, a nice weekend and I at least got some credit for an assist.