Not that anybody cares, of course, but Phase II of the fencing project is finally complete, and the dogs’ world has been vastly expanded. Their new environment features two ponds for swimming (assuming they don’t dry up – which doesn’t seem likely for the foreseeable future, assuming you’re fairly short-sighted), lots of new trees to sniff and pee on, and all new vistas to survey. It’s also nice for us humans, as we can let the dogs be with us in the front as well as the back. And the front has an excellent view – especially at sunset. Phase III – fencing in the three and a half or so acres of woods – will take a while, and will probably have to happen in bits and pieces. It’s just a shame that four-letter word that starts with a ‘w’ has to keep getting in the way.
But, for today, let’s turn that dubya upside down, and wish those of you who are mothers a happy Mother’s Day. I hope those ungrateful brats of yours do something nice for you. I mean, would it kill them to remember mom one day out of the year?
Those of you ungrateful brats who have mothers should go and do something nice for them today. At least call, and can you try and suffer through without too much eye rolling and sighing, and acting like talking to your mother is killing you, ferchrissakes.
If you’re so lucky as to be able to go and visit in person, try not to be so damn snotty and quit looking at your watch every two minutes. What, it’s gonna kill you to spend a couple hours with the woman who spent eighteen months in labor and had to walk to the hospital uphill both ways (in winter, or at least during a freak blizzard) just so she could give you life and her undying, unconditional love? And for what? You don’t write, you don’t call….
And if the mother of your children is around, do something nice for her, too.
Those of us who have neither mothers nor spawn are off the hook (go do something nice for yourself while the rest of the world does its best to remind you that you’re a barren, motherless loser).
I also want to point out to you that Amazon is still eager to sell you “last minute” Mother’s Day gifts (not sure how that works – maybe you just print out a picture and hand it to them or something). Speaking of which, I was looking for Adirondack furniture (not the real stuff, which around here I’d go find some Amish or Mennonites to whomp up for me, but the fake plastic stuff), and came across this Adirondack chair squirrel feeder. Is it just me, or does this thing look kinda perverted?
It doesn’t say what kind of batteries it takes.
I have a wife, of course, but she’s neither my mother nor the mother of my children (which, if I have any, have failed to step forward and admit it) and there’s no “Wife’s Day,” because that would be redundant – let’s face it, every day is Wife’s Day.
Now, let’s hear all your best natural methods of repelling black flies (and mosquitoes, too). With everything so wet, the little bastards are out in force. Talk about useless mothers.