You’ve got to love WNY/Southern Ontario thunderstorms. They seem to come out of nowhere.
Take tonight, for example:
After dinner I decided I needed to break free of my agrophobic ways and go forage for food at the grocery store. I would only be gone for 20 minutes as I only needed a few things and all looked fine when I left. Sure, it was cloudy but it had been cloudy all day.
So I buzz down the road and hit the grocery store.
I get to the store, pick up some fruit and really just enjoying the quiet of the grocery store and OMG look at all the brands here. (Yes, this is still new for me). Once I debated with myself whether to get the name brand cereal or the generic I grab the cheap cereal and head to the cashier. She’s nice and says to me “I can’t beleive how hard it’s raining”
Hold on a minute, did she say rain? I glance out the window and hoo boy is she right. It is pouring.
Once I get to the parking lot, there’s inches of rain on the lot. It’s small rivers rushing to the storm sewers.
Of course, every window in the car is wide open.
Let’s just say the car got washed on the inside.
I get home, and this freak storm (which was over by the time I got home) has apparently rained sideways into the house through the windows. The patio door of course was wide open so water was pretty much streaming down the floor when I arrived. The bedroom windows were also open and the worst of it landed on the dog’s bed so I’ve got to find a towel or something for the beast to sleep on tonight.
and on the way back to the house I saw it:** the weed.**
Now this wasn’t any old weed. This was waist high. And I thought, hoo boy am I going to be in big trouble when BW comes back and finds that weed at eye level.
So, I pulled it.
and then another
and before you know it: this happened
Now, to the untrained eye, this doesn’t look like much but what you see here is over 3 hours of gardening. **. Now I will ask you to read this last bit again where it says I gardened because the entire plotline of this story hinges on this one fact that I pulled weeds out of the ground and garden. **That’s twice now. TWICE, people.
The second photo doesn’t look like much and needs some explaining.
Between the fence and our neighbours railway ties is a son of a gun to clean. leaves and other crap gets caught in no mans land between there and I suppose if this were the mccoys vs the hatfields you could spend hours arguing who’s mess this was. Technically, I think it’s not ours but no matter. Not only do dead leaves get behind here but also other items too. I found:
a metal stake
a chair cushion.
a lawn bag full of leaves.
The problem was how do I get between the rock and the hard place? My leaf blower won’t work because if the leaves were able to blow they would have blown away. I can’t get my hand in there to reach under the fence unless I start to dig - so what’s a guy to do?
I cleaned out the entire length of the backyard with a stir stick for a paint can left over from my painting adventures. I could get the stir stick under the fence enough to fish out the leaves and lawn furniture and other items. There I was down on my knees with a stir sitck trying to pull out weeds and leaves and brances. How I got into this I will never know.
But, it looks a little better now.
Once I got the big stuff out I could clean out the remainder of the gap with the leaf blower and then raked the whole mess out and up and I had to hurry because I had so much fun it was starting to get dark.
Also: I found a great way to weed the garden: You take the leaf blower to it. It blows away all the loose grass clippings and surface dirt and then it’s really easy to see the weeds and yank ‘em.
It doesn’t happen often but every once in a while a husband is right. Or, at very least gets to prove his worth. Even if it’s ever so slightly.
About 60 days or so - just before BW went away I got it in my head that I would sell riding lawnmowers online.
You can imagine BW’s eyes rolling back in her head as I come up with yet another half baked idea.
But this time I had a thought. A riding lawn mower costs $1500 on Amazon. I wondered: do people actually buy riding lawnmowers online? There’s only one way to find out, I thought so I created a website and one page was all about riding lawnmowers, and now that I am Mr. Suburbia and know all about there is about a riding lawnmower, and actually can tell what brand of riding mower it is due to the color (Yellow for Cub Cadet, Red for Toro, Orange for Husqvarna). So writing about riding lawnmowers wasn’t too hard. I grabbed a few photos of riding mowers, wrote a few paragraphs and left it.
A few weeks later: I sold one. “I told you so”, I told BW.
Here’s the fun part: A riding lawnmower sale is worth more to me in commission than a commission on a 2013 Honda Civic. And, I can write about mowers in my underwear and not have to deal with sales managers, customers, test drives…etc.
And then - I lucked out and sold another mower online. I was on a roll.
Or so I thought. But then, I got greedy and put a few too many ‘buy me’ buttons on the site so the ads vs content ratio was kind of high.
I live and die by Google and what they think about my sites and how relevant they are to the search. For example: I rock for “Tidy Husband”. In fact I OWN google for tidy husband because it’s not searched for and has no real commercial value (but you can buy tidy husbands, I hear). Anyway - search for ‘tidy husband’ and every link, photo on the front page is..me:
Now, If I could do this for the search term ‘debt relief” or “car insurance” or something that people actually searched for I’d be writing this from a lawn chair on my own island in FIJI.
Back the lanwmowers: Google came by, saw that my site didn’t have real value with big buttons all over the site and slapped me silly. I was gone for the search engines and instead of getting hundreds of searches for lawnmowers and the like, I got zero.
Now it’s BW’s turn to tell me “I told you so”.
So, I had read in my travels that if this happens you can try removing the buy me links and buttons and hope things return.
Until today about noon:
It seems that Google has deemed me worthy once again with my excellent reviews on riding mowers and has brought my site back to the front page after a holiday away and the “I told you so” score is slightly again in my favor once again for the time being.
Who knew that dog walking could be so interesting?
I know I sure didn’t but since I’ve become the official dog walker here over the past year or so, I’ve made some observations and I thought I’d share them:
Dog walking can be profitable. I’ve made seven bucks since walking dogs. I’ve found a five dollar bill and 2 one’s in our sleepy little neighborhood and one can only imagine how much money I could make in a more concentrated area like Toronto or New York. I figure I always have my head down in the fear that somebody will recognize me both outside and walking a dog - 2 things I try to avoid.
If the dog wants to stop, and um, smell the roses - the dog will smell the roses. If the dog does not want to move the dog won’t.
The dog attracts all the crazy dogs in the neighborhood (and crazy owners too). Today, we were out for our lap when this little benji shaped dog came running up to say hello and smell butts which is fine. There was no growling going on, just butt smelling (more words I never thought I’d put together in a sentence), but the funny part is benji wasn’t on a leash. He’s no bigger than a large cat but the best part was that Benji wasn’t a very good listener. His owner, a 20-something with a plaid shirt and cowboy boots, chased, pleaded, ran and tried to bribe benji with cheese.
Benji wasn’t having any of this, and that’s the funny part - Benji, thedog and I ended up taking his owner for a little walk around the neighborhood until Benji finally got tired. I wonder next time our neighbor takes benji for a walk he’ll bring a leash, and maybe some more comfortable footwear
This is the funniest of the stories: When we walk by this one house there’s these 2 little white small dogs that bark and bark and bark when we go by. And the dog, usually very well mannered just loses her shit when we walk by the house so I’ve come to dialing in the leash when she goes by. We pass the house of crazy dog okay, and so I let the leash out again so the dog can walk freely and not pull me. The dog has a tendency to not walk on the sidewalk but the little boulevard of grass between the sidewalk and the road.
Usually, this is uneventful and not worthy of a mention, but on this day, across the street a half block up is an older dog on the front lawn. This older dog might bark once but otherwise could care less about the dog. But our dog was very interested in the dog across the street, and had craned her neck to look back at the dog.
And just like texting and driving, doing two things at the same time when moving regardless of whether you’re a dog or not is always a bad idea and the dog, not looking where she was going walked right into a sign post. You could hear the ‘clunk’ as dog head bounced off street sign.
There’s nothing worse than getting busted walking into a pole because you were checking out the hot number across the street.
I woke up to this. After dinner, I was showing thedog how to take a nap on the couch (not that she needs any practice) when I/we awoke to a wee bit of a weather change in the hour we were out. It’s cooled of considerably and if the rumbles outside the window are any indication things may get a bit wet later…
Anyway, I want to talk about dresses and offer some husbandly advice on the topic too. But first, a conversation between BW and I earlier today:
[7/19/13 10:40:49 AM] Jim: with the scrunchy at the side…
[7/19/13 10:40:51 AM] BW: well it is in style the look.
[7/19/13 10:40:53 AM] BW: yep.
[7/19/13 10:40:56 AM] BW: thinning.
[7/19/13 10:41:03 AM] BW: it is the color that I sort of like
[7/19/13 10:41:05 AM] BW: different.
[7/19/13 10:41:07 AM] BW: not the usual.
[7/19/13 10:41:08 AM] Jim: I know. reddish.
[7/19/13 10:41:13 AM] BW: orangie.
[7/19/13 10:41:14 AM] BW: Ithough.
[7/19/13 10:41:16 AM] BW: donno.
[7/19/13 10:41:23 AM] BW: anyway.
[7/19/13 10:41:26 AM] BW: I don’tknow.
[7/19/13 10:41:42 AM] Jim: ha. I can’t see the price.
[7/19/13 10:41:45 AM] Jim: just as well…
[7/19/13 10:41:50 AM] Jim: ?
[7/19/13 10:41:54 AM] Jim: ignorance is bliss.
[7/19/13 10:42:06 AM] BW: about 35 bucks
[7/19/13 10:42:17 AM] Jim: OK. you’re in charge
Guys, please pay attention to my last statement because it’s important. I said: “OK, you’re in charge”. You don’t know how much time, effort I’ve learned to get to understand that this statement has all the power in the world.
Why? I agreed with BW’s needs. She needed to tell her it was a nice dress. I did. **BW is happy. **
See how that works? Now, I don’t know a nice dress from a crappy dress and have spent the past few weeks bouncing around in shorts with BBQ sauce down the front of ‘em (how the mighty have fallen) but I know two things:
BW likes this dress.
BW is the boss of me.
It took me a loooong time to realize item number 2, but guys it’s true. Your goal in your marriage is one thing: **Make your wife happy. **. Remember at the altar all the stuff about sickness and in health? Nowhere did the priest/minister/justice of the peace, whomever say that if you don’t keep your wife happy, you will regret ever standing here in front of me. But they didn’t give you any real advice on how to deal with everyday sickness and in health stuff, like…dress opinions. They say ‘you may now kiss the bride’ and then you’re left to your own devices.
But I’ve come to understand - and from my limited testing with this theory that I’m finding for the most part - it’s true. When you realize this your life gets soooo much easier when you agree with your wife’s opinion, well…trust me it’s easier. resistance is futile, you may as well go over to the dark side.
Now if you read our little conversation above you’ll note I screwed up a few times:
_[7/19/13 10:40:42 AM] Jim: you have one similar_
What I should have said was that this was the prettiest dress I have ever seen and OMG it’s beauuutiful.
[7/19/13 10:39:55 AM] Jim: it's nice. can't really see - have a thing in front asking me to singnup
I tried to dodge the whole conversation saying that I can’t see the dress and also: oh look! squirrel!!!
But BW is persistent and found me a photo to look at:
This just goes to show you I’m not the perfect husband yet and I’ve still got some learning to do. But guys, if your wife ever, ever asks any advice about clothing your answer needs to be positive. This applies to socks or dresses or coats or sweaters or whatever.
Your wife doesn’t want to hear your opinion. She wants you to confirm hers.