by jphilo | Jun 22, 2015 | Daily Life
Ant season has arrived, so the Man of Steel and I are employing several creative methods to get rid of our unwelcome guests.
Ant season has arrived, and quicker than I can put on sun screen and leave for the pool, the ants are marching in and setting up housekeeping. Not just in the kitchen, but in the laundry room and the bathroom, too.
The day before I left for a writing conference last week, I dealt with the squatters by committing insecticide on a massive scale. I squirted Terro ant poison on little bits of cardboard, like a chain of delicious and deadly truck stops, strategically placed on the little ant highways they had constructed on our floor.
As the package directions predicted, traffic on the ant highway increased exponentially until the ants carried the poison back to their nests and unwittingly killed off the entire colony. Which happened, the Man of Steel informed me Saturday when I arrived home, the day after I left for the conference.
While I was gone, however, a new colony of ants discovered the kitchen counter. The Man of Steel was loathe to decorate the counter with poison and tried a different tactic. Namely, he killed off the invaders and left the dead bodies scattered hither and yon on the counter all night. The modern day version of the medieval practice of beheading law breakers and displaying their severed, grisly orbs on pikes in the village square.
Creative thinking on the Man of Steel’s part, but it didn’t phase the house invaders. At all. So yesterday, Anty Em’s Truck Stop opened to rave reviews from ravenous travelers speedily carrying word of the new establishment, along with teeny-tiny doggy bags, to friends and family. As attractive as word of mouth advertising is, the truck stop is not aiming for repeat customers.
For those of you who had been thinking of stopping by for a visit, please don’t let the contents of this post stop you. Just call before you come so we can shoo Anty Em to the cellar and clean up the village square in time for your arrival. Thank you, and we appreciate your patronage.
by jphilo | Jun 8, 2015 | Family
Since the news broke that Fred Hoiberg resigned as head coach of the Iowa State Cyclones basketball team to lead the Chicago Bulls, I’ve been surprised by how many people have asked how the Man of Steel is dealing with the news.
I had no idea so many people knew about the Man of Steel’s obsession with interest in Fred, a native son of Iowa and ISU basketball alumni and legend, affectionately referred to as St. Fred around here.
During the most recent Wednesday with Dorothy, Mom broached the topic shortly after I arrived. “What’s Hiram have to say about Fred Hoiberg leaving?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“He’s handling it better than you might think,” I assured her.
“How’s that?”
“He’s decided to become a Chicago Bulls fan,” I explained.
She snickered.
We moseyed out to play Rummikub in the activity area. We’d finished one game (she won) and were setting up for another when she asked, “How’s Hiram taking Hoiberg’s decision to leave the Cyclones?”
“Well,” I smiled, “he took it pretty well. In fact, he’s reading up on the Chicago Bulls and ready to be a fan.”
She chuckled.
I won the next game of Rummikub, she won the one after that, and then we went to Applebee’s for supper. While we waited for our food to arrive, she looked at the poster advertising the Applebee’s Hoiburger on the wall. “Wonder how long they’ll keep serving those,” she mused. “Is Hiram all cut up about Fred Hoiberg leaving the Cyclones?”
“Actually,” I said as the waitress brought our onion rings, “he didn’t miss a beat. Just announced when the new NBA season begins, he’ll be a Bulls fan.”
Mom giggled.
I blew on an onion ring and offered a silent prayer as I took my first bite. Thank you, God, for the Man of Steel, Fred Hoiberg, and for using them to make this Wednesday with Dorothy a day one of us will never forget.
by jphilo | Apr 6, 2015 | Daily Life, Family
I called Mom from Kohl’s last Wednesday. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes, ” I said. “As soon as the battery in my watch is replaced.”
“My watch needs a new battery, too,” she said.
Why hadn’t she told me that yesterday when I called to ask her if she needed anything.
I bit my tongue, and replied, “That’s too bad. See you soon.”
15 minutes later, I greeted her as promised, “Hi, Mom!”
“Where are my clothes?” she demanded.
“What clothes?” I said, surprised.
“My clothes are too hot. I’m roasting,” she said motioning to the heavy turtleneck sweater she was wearing. “I need some cool tops and some summer nighties.”
So a couple hours later, after a few rousing games of Uno (we each one a game), after a trip to Saylorville Lake to watch boats going into the water on this first warm day of spring, and after supper at Applebees, I returned her to her digs. Her watch in hand, I headed to Kohl’s once again.
The shopping trip was successful–3 new shirts and 2 new nighties, all of which fit her–but the watch was toast. Mom accepted the death of her watch with resignation, and before leaving, I tucked her, clad in her new nightie, into bed (at 7 PM).
Once I was home, I related the afternoon and evenings activities to the Man of Steel. “Her room really was stuffy,” I ended.
The Man of Steel nodded his head. “Did you turn down the thermostat in her room?”
Duh.
“Ah, no.”
We both laughed.
And that, dear readers, is just one of the many reasons I need the Man of Steel. The name of this particular reason?
Common sense.
by jphilo | Mar 27, 2015 | Family
This week’s Fantastic Friday post comes from way back in March of 2011. Four years later, my geranium slips are rooting in mason jars, and I’m as crazy about them as ever.. The Man of Steel, now four years older after celebrating another birthday on March 8, is as kind and quiet as this post made him out to be.
My husband is a wise man. He has yet to say a word about the four, count ‘em, four mason jars sitting in front of the east windows, hogging daylight.
He hasn’t commented about how the jars are crammed with geranium slips or how the wintered over geraniums, from whence the slips came, now look like skinned rats in their flower pots.
He never complained about the dozens of gallon milk jugs in the basement full of last summer’s rain water, some used to water the potted geraniums through the winter and much it now slowly evaporating from the mason jars chuck full of geranium slips.
Yes, Hiram is a wise man. He knows better than to editorialize when I go on one of my heritage horticultural tears. This month’s tear is all about Grandma Josie Hess’s heritage geranium, the sainted family flower given to Grandma Josie by her mother, Cora Newell. Grandma Josie gave slips to her children (including my mother), who gave them to her three children, one of whom (that would be me) has become slightly obsessed with propagating the sainted plant.
To tell you the truth, I’m pretty pleased with myself for remembering to cut down the wintered-over geraniums this early and setting the slips in water. Usually I think of it in late April when it’s too late for either the old plants to recover from pruning or for the new slips to root before it’s time to plant them outdoors. But this year I thought of it in March. A minor miracle considering how forgetful I’ve been this winter.
Come to think of it, Hiram hasn’t said a word about my minor memory miracle or my more normal forgetfulness. At least I can’t remember if he’s made any comments about either one.
In any case, my husband is a wise man. Almost a saint. Right up there with the sainted family flower.
Quiet.
Lovely.
Hardy.
Enduring.
Patient.
Faithful.
No wonder I love them both so much.
by jphilo | Mar 10, 2015 | Top Ten Tuesday
10. One day snowdrifts. The next day daffodils breaking through the dirt.
9. Cardinal song.
8. Certain people who will remain nameless go to bed way early to Netflix because the arrival of Daylight Savings Time makes it perfectly okay.
7. Morning people are smiling because Daylight Savings Time means their favorite time of day come extra early.
6. The Man of Steel can be found splashing through puddles while running up and down the gravel road.
5. The Woman of Aluminum can be found picking her way around puddles while walking up and down the gravel road.
4. After a couple days of exercise overdue, the Man of Steel and Woman of Aluminum walk stiffly around their house along the gravel road.
3. The park is overflowing with 12-year-old girls wearing short shorts and walking bare-legged even though the temperature is only 48 degrees.
2. Brackets, brackets, brackets.
1. Everybody in town wears a goofy grin, and they have no idea why.
What signs of spring are sprouting where you live?
