IT TAKES TALENT TO BE THIS STUPID

Either I am really talented or I work awfully hard at being stupid, and I've got a shiner a six year-old boy would be proud of, to show for it.  Also I've got one dog that is terrably afraid there is something bad wrong with me, the other puppy doesn't care.  The problem is I can't seem to stay upright.

Last Saturday I was in the back yard and noticed for the umpteenth time that a tree limb had grown over and was scraping on my patio cover.   I've said the cover is made of fiberglass, but it's probably just plain old cheap plastic.  Still, every time the wind blew, that limb rubbed across it and maked noise and sooner or later would knock a hole in the cover. 

That limb, that hadn't really bothered me for months, had to come off.- RIGHT THEN.  I got a saw, the kind you have to push and pull.   I picked just the right place it should come off and started pushing and pulling.  I had to do this with my arms up in the air because this limb was a couple feet above my head.  It also had several little branches shootin' off of it and lots of little green leaves.  It was a nice little limb.  But - it had to go.

After I'd sawd for a while and wasn't gettin' anywhere, I decided that I needed to pull it off the patio cover so that I could get more leverage.  It was beginning to bind on the saw.  I reached up,  grabbed hold of it and started pulling it down underneith the cover.  Well that thing was several feet longer than I thought.  I got busy and did some real pullin'.

That's when I heard a crack.  All of a sudden I'm holdin' on for dear life to a limb that is airborn and diving for the concrete patio.  All I could do was hang on for the ride.  First thing that I hit was a concrete bench with the back of my head, just at the bottom of my skull.  When the rest of me made it all the way down I just layed there in a crumpled heap until it dawned on me that I had to find my glasses.  After I found them, I felt around under limbs and leaves until I found the left lense.

Half hartedly I yelled for help, but knew knowbody was gonna come, so I figured it was up to me to get myself out of that mess.  The concrete bench hadn't moved and I managed to reach a straight, metal patio chair.  I pulled that sucker over and between the bench and chair managed to pull myself upright, all the way to a standing position.  Poor little Blossom, the pup I mentioned above, was standing there staring at me with her mouth open, lookin' at me like she was askin' "Mama are you OK?"  Shoot yeah, I was OK.

I headed for the back door, Blossom  by my side, and wondered why I couldn't see very good.  It looked like my eyelid was hangin' down.  'Bout that time I noticed my left hand was bloody, but wasn't dripping so I went on into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  Yep, my left eyelid was swollen, black and all around it was red and yellow.

Tried my glasses on, but they were so twisted that I couldn't wear them.  Found an old pair that the left lense kept falling out so I Scotch taped it in and then drove to get both pair of glasses straightened, and put back together.

Sunday morning I went to Sunday School.  I took the back stairs so that I wouldn't see any more people than necessary.  Velma looked at my and asked "My gosh, what happened to you?"  Travis, our teacher gave me a hug and said "That sure is a pretty blouse."  Velma answered "Yeah, it's the color of her eye."  Then he looked a little closer and said "Well, your glasses cover it up pretty well."  Elayne came in, sat down across the room, then looked at me and squinted, then she leaned forward, as if six inches would make a difference, and squinted more.  I took of my glasses so that she could see and her mouth dropped open. 

After class Dalpha, Billy Ray and the other three gathered around asking questions.  I told them I'd had a  fight with a limb.  Someone said I looked like the limb won.   "Nope," I said.  "I am upright and that limb is still laying on the ground."


I have another limb that needs to come off.  It's dead.  I've thought about tying one end of a rope around it and the other end to my car and pulling it off.  I'm afraid it might mess up my car so I think I'll just let the wind knock it off.  I'm really tryin' to not be stupid again.

That limb was still there this morning, so I pulled it out to the alley and left it by the dumpster.

Happy Birthday - Who?

I swear, there are days that I don't have the brains God gave a goose, and Sunday was one of them.  I  told my son, Wesley, that I would bake him a birthday cake.  He was to have company and wanted chocolate so I baked a chocolate cake.  Then I needed to decorate it.

I have baked many cakes and decorated them.  I even won first prize at my decorating class years ago.  I know how to decorate.  I can use both butter cream and fondant.  I decided to use butter cream.  That's what I won first prize using.

First, I couldn't get the butter cream to go on smoothly.  Didn't worry, I could fix that.  Got the cake covered, then mixed the colors - green, yellow and brown.  Evidently, it makes a difference in the color if the icing is fondant or butter cream.  My green came out a dirty, nasty green. Tried a different green.  Worked.  Started by putting on brown stems for flowers.  Looked fine.  The yellow flowers were a cross between a rose bud and Lily. They didn't look bad.  Leaves were next - so, so, but was running out of time, so they had to do. 

Next came the Happy Birthday and Wesley.  I wrote' Happy Birthday' across the top and Wesley underneath. Stood back and look at my handiwork.  Never have been able to spell, but somehow that Birthday came out "Birtdy"  I couldn't leave it like that so I managed to get part of the lettering off and finally had Birthday, even though it was a little crooked.

Next I looked at Wesley.  I've spelled his name for years.  I had written "Wesssly".  Nuts, again I scraped off part of the word and got it right - "Wesley".

The final step was the border around both the top and bottom of the cake.  Was using a plastic throwaway bag and couldn't make it work well, and by now my hands were hurting.  When I finally  got both borders in place I was tired, running late, and the cake was a disaster.  Didn't have time to  bake another one.

My solution was to go to the grocery store and buy one.  Picked out an Italian Cream and the lady was to put Happy Birthday and his name on it.  She asked me how to spell Wesley and I told her.  A few minutes later she peeked around a partition and asked, " was that with an "e" or  "y".  "Y" I said.  She disappeared and came back a short time later with the packaged cake.  I took it and paid.

On the way to my car I looked at the cake.  It said Happy Birthday Wesly.  Oh S--t.  He was to have a house full of company.  I presented both cakes to him.

For crying out loud, I can decorate a cake, remember? I won first place.  When those people at Wesley's saw that messed-up cake,  I don't think I could have been more embarrassed if I had been the Pope coming out of a whorehouse naked.