In this complex modern world, it is impossible to be simple.
– Debasish Mridha
My wife started it.
During a week of frosty mornings, she began rewarding our two little white dogs with a treat when they came in from their morning constitutionals. She would take an old throw blanket and warm it up a few minutes in the household dryer. Then spread it out and watched them curl up and be quiet.
I did not know that this had become standard operating procedure and was frustrated one morning with irritable pet restlessness.
“You forgot to warm their blanket,” she said. Then she rapidly reviewed the required dryer temperature settings and proper blanket folding techniques.
A quick study, I soon had it down.
I am, after all, a college graduate, which is more than I can say for two little furballs who would flunk out of obedience school if such offered full-ride scholarships.
MISSING MITTENS: Low temps bring out the hand warmers, which brings out one of my many flaws – I lose gloves.
I quit spending money to fill my glove compartment with quality long ago because it didn’t matter. They would soon disappear.
I imagine they fall from a stuffed coat pocket when I rush to retrieve keys or a wallet. Or maybe they just jump out and run away, as fast as their five legs can carry them.
I let them go. My hands are usually warm, after all, and you can guess what that says about my sentimental heart.
PRESIDENTIAL BIRTHDAY: Today would have been Richard Nixon’s 105th birthday. Augusta does not have much connection with the 37th president, although we are told he did visit as vice president and played golf with Dwight Eisenhower at a well-known local course out Washington Road.
Nixon had his flaws, of course, but President Ford, who followed him, always said his foreign policy efforts were first rate. Nixon privately called it his “Madman Theory,” an old Machiavelli device in which our foreign enemies are led to believe that the man in charge is crazy and liable to do anything if provoked.
TODAY’S JOKE: Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive, double-pane, energy-efficient kind.
Today, I got a call from the store that installed them. The caller complained that the work had been completed a year ago and I still hadn’t paid for them.
Well, just because I’m a senior citizen doesn’t mean that I am automatically mentally challenged.
I told him just what his fast-talking sales guy told me last year – that these windows would pay for themselves in a year. It’s been a year, I told him.
There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally hung up.
He never called back. I bet he’s too embarrassed.
Reach Bill Kirby at firstname.lastname@example.org