A dark and stormy night seemed like a natural progression from a wet and rainy day.
But, it wore on, even after I had snoozed for a few minutes after dinner on the couch during a Mariners game.
Since it wasn't quite time for bed, I went outside to the dark and stormy night with my camera and took a drive down some of our dirt/muddy roads.
On my way back, what did I see?
Eleven neighborhood elk looking back at me!
They were huddling together just off the road in a field north of Eva's Whitehead's farm.
I think they had not expected to see a car in the midst of this dark and stormy night.
So, they scattered a bit.
I took pictures but did not expect much.
My camera, on the other hand, did its best to catch those images even if it was almost totally dark.
Along the way, I saw multiples of geese, ducks and deer, all on the move in the wet farm fields.
It was a nice, brief interlude in a day which had been dictated by wetness.
As mentioned yesterday, we made a Costco run. Before heading out, I looked for a pair of clean socks to wear in my Tevas.
It's a wonderful and liberating feeling wearing relatively light Tevas after months of trudging around in heavy barn boots with my thick socks which have yet to suffer any blowouts.
Yesterday, medium-weight socks seemed best for my street shoes yesterday, since they're air conditioned and it was gonna be wet.
Do you think I could find one complete pair of medium-weight socks?
I looked in drawers, in the dryer and even by the stove where I often leave a pair of socks.
Every sock except one had a hole in the heel. Certainly, I could find a match but no luck.
There could be one ace in the hole I thought (no pun there). Quite often socks, getting sick and tired of being stuffed with other socks like sardines, escape the two sock drawers in the bathroom.
They make their way into the back part of the drawer, scale the back board and eventually fall to the floor, joining the heap of those who escaped before underneath the two drawers.
Surely there will be a match for my one complete medium-weight sock, I thought.
This, of course, involved bending over and removing the two sock drawers and then bending over further to retrieve the heap.
Bending over further and actually getting down on the floor just isn't as fun or easy as it used to be, but I was desperate.
So, I pulled out the drawers, looked into the darkness of the floor below and found one pair of blue underpants (yes, they live with the socks) and one off color, lightweight sock which doesn't match any sock I've ever owned.
Long story short, I wore two socks to Costco yesterday, one whole and one with a hole in the heel.
Bill and I discussed this constant irritant of searching for socks that match and socks, and, yes, Florine, I did bring up the fact that you asked a couple of years ago why I didn't darn my socks, adding that for me, a dismal seamstress, it's probably more efficient to buy new pairs.
Anyway, both of us agreed that the sock conundrum is most likely not limited to the Lovestead sock drawers.
Bill thinks he has the solution. He said this could be a ground-breaking career for young people.
They could sign up to be sock consultants, just like people work as personal trainers.
He thinks these people, with the right education, could teach us how to better manage our sock supply.
It's a thought, and we're happy to share the idea to help keep our great America employment numbers on the rise.
Anyway, those socks worked out okay on the trip to Costco, and so did Bill's strategy of driving and then using his crutches to walk.
He did okay, walking through the whole store, stopping occasionally for samples.
He was gonna sample sort of taco-flavored item from a lady who constantly talked but never looked up.
In her ongoing reruns with no eye contact, she said those tacos needed to be cooked so there would be a wait.
Same thing was true at the other end of the aisle with the popcorn shrimp, but this lady and her friendly assistant did establish eye contact.
In fact, the assistant even took time to empathize with Bill about his crutches.
As we neared the AttaBoy dogfood display, we conferred to figure out the best way to get that big sack of dogfood in the cart with the other stuff.
Bill, who has streamlined his Costco visits, said he puts the other stuff up in the small compartment and then loads the dogfood.
As we conferred, a lady stopped in her tracks, turned around and asked if we needed help.
No thanks, I said, we're just deciding our strategy.
Once we had arranged the cart for the dogfood dump, I grabbed the 50-pound sack with a tight bear hug and turned my body around to put the sack in the cart.
The cart was not in the best position, so while I held the dogfood, Bill started re-positioning the cart.
Suddenly, a man came along, stopped in his tracks and said, "Here I'll help you."
I turned his direction, and for a short moment we engaged a dogfood-bag dance with him bear hugging on his side and me bear hugging on my side while his wife stood on the opposite side of the aisle, announcing, with a delighted smile, "I'll just stand here and watch."
The dogfood-bag dance ended quickly and almost instantly the Atta Boy sat up in the cart.
We were pretty efficient with the rest of the Costco adventure, finding items on our checklist quickly, making it through the check stand and then heading straight to the food court for our true Costco reward for a job well done and money well spent---food and people watching.
It was nice to see Bill out and about on both feet and doing okay. Soon, he'll be able to drop those crutches and start putting 100 percent weight on his repaired foot.
And, I'll probably go to the store pretty dang soon to find me some unholy medium-weight socks.
So, they scattered a bit.
I took pictures but did not expect much.
My camera, on the other hand, did its best to catch those images even if it was almost totally dark.
Along the way, I saw multiples of geese, ducks and deer, all on the move in the wet farm fields.
It was a nice, brief interlude in a day which had been dictated by wetness.
As mentioned yesterday, we made a Costco run. Before heading out, I looked for a pair of clean socks to wear in my Tevas.
It's a wonderful and liberating feeling wearing relatively light Tevas after months of trudging around in heavy barn boots with my thick socks which have yet to suffer any blowouts.
Yesterday, medium-weight socks seemed best for my street shoes yesterday, since they're air conditioned and it was gonna be wet.
Do you think I could find one complete pair of medium-weight socks?
I looked in drawers, in the dryer and even by the stove where I often leave a pair of socks.
Every sock except one had a hole in the heel. Certainly, I could find a match but no luck.
There could be one ace in the hole I thought (no pun there). Quite often socks, getting sick and tired of being stuffed with other socks like sardines, escape the two sock drawers in the bathroom.
They make their way into the back part of the drawer, scale the back board and eventually fall to the floor, joining the heap of those who escaped before underneath the two drawers.
Surely there will be a match for my one complete medium-weight sock, I thought.
This, of course, involved bending over and removing the two sock drawers and then bending over further to retrieve the heap.
Bending over further and actually getting down on the floor just isn't as fun or easy as it used to be, but I was desperate.
So, I pulled out the drawers, looked into the darkness of the floor below and found one pair of blue underpants (yes, they live with the socks) and one off color, lightweight sock which doesn't match any sock I've ever owned.
Long story short, I wore two socks to Costco yesterday, one whole and one with a hole in the heel.
Bill and I discussed this constant irritant of searching for socks that match and socks, and, yes, Florine, I did bring up the fact that you asked a couple of years ago why I didn't darn my socks, adding that for me, a dismal seamstress, it's probably more efficient to buy new pairs.
Anyway, both of us agreed that the sock conundrum is most likely not limited to the Lovestead sock drawers.
Bill thinks he has the solution. He said this could be a ground-breaking career for young people.
They could sign up to be sock consultants, just like people work as personal trainers.
He thinks these people, with the right education, could teach us how to better manage our sock supply.
It's a thought, and we're happy to share the idea to help keep our great America employment numbers on the rise.
Anyway, those socks worked out okay on the trip to Costco, and so did Bill's strategy of driving and then using his crutches to walk.
He did okay, walking through the whole store, stopping occasionally for samples.
He was gonna sample sort of taco-flavored item from a lady who constantly talked but never looked up.
In her ongoing reruns with no eye contact, she said those tacos needed to be cooked so there would be a wait.
Same thing was true at the other end of the aisle with the popcorn shrimp, but this lady and her friendly assistant did establish eye contact.
In fact, the assistant even took time to empathize with Bill about his crutches.
As we neared the AttaBoy dogfood display, we conferred to figure out the best way to get that big sack of dogfood in the cart with the other stuff.
Bill, who has streamlined his Costco visits, said he puts the other stuff up in the small compartment and then loads the dogfood.
As we conferred, a lady stopped in her tracks, turned around and asked if we needed help.
No thanks, I said, we're just deciding our strategy.
Once we had arranged the cart for the dogfood dump, I grabbed the 50-pound sack with a tight bear hug and turned my body around to put the sack in the cart.
The cart was not in the best position, so while I held the dogfood, Bill started re-positioning the cart.
Suddenly, a man came along, stopped in his tracks and said, "Here I'll help you."
I turned his direction, and for a short moment we engaged a dogfood-bag dance with him bear hugging on his side and me bear hugging on my side while his wife stood on the opposite side of the aisle, announcing, with a delighted smile, "I'll just stand here and watch."
The dogfood-bag dance ended quickly and almost instantly the Atta Boy sat up in the cart.
We were pretty efficient with the rest of the Costco adventure, finding items on our checklist quickly, making it through the check stand and then heading straight to the food court for our true Costco reward for a job well done and money well spent---food and people watching.
It was nice to see Bill out and about on both feet and doing okay. Soon, he'll be able to drop those crutches and start putting 100 percent weight on his repaired foot.
And, I'll probably go to the store pretty dang soon to find me some unholy medium-weight socks.
During my early-morning Web surfing, Facebook was down, pretty much around the world. Same was true for Instagram and WhatsApp.
For a time, I didn't think we'd see any of Annie's latest adventures, but by the time I arrived downstairs, Annie was sending me a picture of a giant lizard somewhere in Thailand.
Facebook is back up, so I grabbed a few photos she has taken in the Bangkok area. She held a geocaching event and has been taking in the sights and sounds.
You'll see by the photos that one amazing architectural structure, in particular, had really taken her eye.
Tomorrow, she heads to South Korea where she has scheduled another geocaching event.
What a trip to see and learn about wondrous places, peoples and world culture!
Happy Sunday. I think we might even dry out this week, and maybe I can start wearing lightweight socks in my shoes.
3 comments:
Your sock situation is another example of where somethings are simply easier for men. At our house, he buys large quantities of the same white socks so he is NEVER without a matching pair. and when this one or that shows too much wear (holes, stretched out or soiled beyond bleach), I (yes I, not him) throw that one away. He still has all perfectly matched socks - just one short. Women seem always to have to have "pretty" socks where there is only one match for each one. Big mistake. You can have a few of those pretty pairs but for every day, utilitarian needs, buy up some bags of matching socks and you're always good to go. Yes, they too will start disappearing one by one. That's when you go buy another bag. It's also good for the economy. Problem solved. Easy peasy.
I failed to mention the boxes of white athletic socks in the storage room, which belong to Willie. If Skip runs short some day, we may have a supply for him.
Thanks. I'll tell him. I've found these "loner socks" make good dusting mitts.... on the rare occasion that I do dust ..... and there are probably multiple good uses for them around your equipment and animals... Never throw a perfectly good loner sock away. :)
Post a Comment