Welcome to my world!
My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...
Friday, June 10, 2011
You Need Kool-Aid
Last night, when it was getting dark and I was almost home, I had a sweet little flashback of hearing my mother do that two-fingered whistle thing she did to call us home in the summer when it was getting dark. I can't whistle. At all. Fingers or no. FF tried to teach me. Without success.
It was sweet coming home at dusk. It's the first time I've noticed the fireflies this year. It made me fall in love with my neighborhood even more.
In between my 5:00 run yesterday and coming home, I walked to the little park and swung (swang?) on the swingset, talked on the phone to my one and only employee to tell her she was fired since she never worked for me - just for my client - and that they would hire her. Thank god I never got around to getting my LLC set up with the state. I never want to have an employee. Not to get into details, but when I met with my client and their new employee, everyone was thrilled with my brilliant plan. I called the payroll service guy to come give his schpiel at the last minute and he wowed them, and better yet, made me look good (even though I had to prompt him to tell them how much of a discount I'd negotiated). I'd just called him at the last minute 45 minutes earlier for an impromptu meeting with treasurer of another client (he'd already done the proposal, but I hadn't gotten around to setting up the meeting), and I'm certain they're in the bag, too. The treasurer smiled before he said he'd get back to him. That's rare.
Wow, here I go, getting off track again. My whole point was that between running and swinging and talking and walking and running more, my legs were probably just too tired from yesterday to make it the whole two miles without stopping tonight. Oh, I made J & J swing, too. I told them how it really works your muscles. Quads and inner thighs, and your guns, too, if you lean way back. Probably some ab action, too. But mainly the quads. In fact, tonight when I was doing my post-run swing, I noticed how incredibly hulkish my quads looked. I guess between the running and swinging and running up and down the stairs to my enchanted aerie a hundred times a day, that's unavoidable. So I had this crazy thought of challenging FF to a leg wrestling contest. I think I'd stand a chance of winning. But we'll have to adjust the wager since he has a natural advantage, based on his gender and all. A point spread of sorts. However that works.
Ok, back to the Kool-Aid reference. I've talked about discovering Led Zeppelin on my MP3 player and how it really energized my run. And I mentioned listening to it in the car with FF last weekend. He'd read my blog, I suppose and made a point of playing it for me. The song is Whole Lotta Love, of course. The one and only one of theirs I know. And that's because my older sister (who just happens to be the same age as FF, which is six years older than me), would play it full blast every morning while we were getting ready for school. I hated that song. It was either Whole Lotta Love or Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac. Over and over and over again. And that is just part of the reason I could never have voted for Bill Clinton. But that's neither here nor there.
Back to Whole Lotta Love. If you're familiar with it, you might realize that it isn't a sweet little ballad. And that all those sounds he makes midway aren't just simulating a stifled sneeze. In fact, during that part in Dude's car, he looked at me and asked me if it was simulating some other physical, ummm, reaction, but not a sneeze. I tried my best to look innocently puzzled and said, "I never thought of it that way, but now that you mention it..." He likes to try to make me blush, but really, the only thing he does that embarrasses me is to tell those stupid limericks. And then, I'm just embarrassed for him.
After all, I've pooted in front of the man. What could be more embarrassing than that?
Ok, now I'll explain the title of this post and then I'm gonna close up shop. Since I was just about eight years old when this song was big, I really just thought the guy was falling down a well or something. It seemed kinda scary. But it wasn't until tonight, when I was running and listening to it that I realized what the first line of the song really said. Which is, I think, "You need coolin'". I like my version better.
Posted by Carol at 9:54 PM