Sunday, November 27, 2011

soothsayer


Today I have decided to try my hand at soothsaying.

I made the bold decision this morning while examining the dried reddish vomit on the bedspread before washing it, trying to decide whether it looked serious or not. Geoffrey deposited it on the bed somewhere, sometime. The red looked like tomato and did not seem out of the ordinary for this household.

Anyway, my new ally in the endless battle against this kind of disaster is Omo liquid detergent. I love the stuff. It works brilliantly and makes you smell like a harem. Can't get enough. It's even biodegradable.


So while I was sorting out the washing, I spotted the next door neighbours through the grotty kitchen window. They were posing their kids on the windowsill, taking snaps with cheap plastic cellphones and being all noisy about it. The doors were closed so I was able to watch them unabashedly. 

I had Alfred and Geoffrey under house arrest which is why we were shut in. They had shamed me by loudly fornicating right up against the wall where the neighbours were partying. Honestly, the two of them were so excited that the conversation next door paused with every brazen grunt they emitted. I had to give them both a sharpish tap on the snout with a rolled up newspaper before they would stop, and then some.

But then Fortune was on my side when mowing the lawn. I was provided with many opportunities to study mounds of used dog food in various stages of decomposition. I always scrape up the stuff before mowing or it literally hits the fan.

Back inside I shamelessly photographed the neighbours frolicking about.


Then I discovered my soothsaying examinations had attracted a rather dead looking hippo which was stalking the car. I say dead looking because even though it was so hot outside that the washing steamed when you hang it on your handy washing line, the hippo still looked fresh. No vultures or other carrion eaters. I thought it looked like a trap.


Steering clear of the suspicious carcass, I stepped inside and discovered my freshest specimen for examining entrails thus far: Her We Do Not Name had deposited a slimy, soppy hair worm for my perusal.


*

I have taken all the evidence I've gathered from these mystic readings of the various specimens into consideration and I have come to divine the following from them - some more obvious than others:

The hippo will be dragged off by a vicious Rottweiler pup.

The clothes will dry in no time.

There is an afternoon nap in my not too distant future.

The next few weeks will be a very, very busy time in my life.

For one thing the work's year end party is next Saturday morning. A good chance to exercise my charitable hypocrisy.

Incidentally, that is also the day that Ilze turns 40. The day after that is Mother's 60th birthday party.

I can see work is going to continue to be an uphill battle. All we ever hear is "This is crunch time, guys" or "Go, go, go!" when I am already doing all I can and a lot more. For instance, I really have to wrap up this post because I brought some work home and I had better get on with it. The boss is never satisfied with what we do on a Saturday. I think she forgets that we are only there for 4 hours on a Saturday and not 12 hours like other days.

Anyway, another observation I have made is that, even though the garden looks good after its early morning lawn manicure, those beautiful creeping plants are in fact beautiful creeping weeds. I can't wait for my paltry two weeks annual leave so The One and I can slap this garden into shape.


That's the dear one bringing morning coffee right after waking up.


I can also see that I will love him for a long, long time.

Written by I
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