November 18th, 2016
Right beside the breaking news video of Prince Harry’s new girlfriend was the best horroscope ever and it read:
“CANCER (June 22 – July 23):
Words are power and if you use them in the right way over the next few days there is almost nothing you cannot accomplish, especially on the work front. Your rivals may have more brawn than you but your brain power will beat them with ease. “
So OFF we go for another day of fun and adventure. First, the daily diatribes report of the comings and the goings of the two Missy L’s. There was a fight to the finish over the mattress, or not as the case maybe. Eyebrows arched, readers inquiringly look at the screen. Thus another diatribe lurches to a kickoff, where it ends is normal, at the end of the page. Once again and early on I divagate. So here we go, Weeks, weeks and weeks ago, mere eons, it was summer time, and it is not now. The weather however is very warm for the time of year at the moment but this too shall change. I searched the website for bulk waste pick up as a mattress had given up the ghost, so had almost the mistress of the house but that is another story. The mattress was senior than the mistress, by the way. Guests and delivery guys moved it into the garage where it was allowed to aired for weeks. The mistress of the house, was looking for the same thing too come to think of it.
I filled out forms to get it gone, called a number of places to aide in the quest for free pick up from the big little city’s public works. Leaving as many messages as leaves I have been raking every second t day for weeks. Or at least since we have given up lawn mowing. The ponderous darkened old leafy vegetable colored mattress, its pattern worn and material torn, leaned like a drunk at a non high-spirited Christmas party.
Marked in the Dayminder reorder Number 535 was marked the day it was to go. That day dawned and I had no one to assist in the exsanguinous mattress removal to the end of the drive, even tho I had begged for help in my missives of vocal and internet variety from the paid professions. The woman at the end of the line once was almost as dead as the mattress in her telephone manner. “make my day” was not even in her vocabulary, already given up her ghost she had. I had done and scratched off that chore from the list of life.
Then we waiting mode. Weeks went, and THEN. Just like every day the world turned, the earth moved thru the heavens and the event we all had been waiting for. I am here to tell you the day came and went as it was raining the two Miss Ls were tucked into the house, and rarely moved as there was a crimson alert. Nothing happened on many fronts. Which is since onset of the second to last month what we wanted. That and a lot of sleep.
While walking the divine Miss L north, which is another route not normal to her, and I had to leash her as she does not like to go in that direction for some reason, and it is across traffic. I glanced to see a giant recycling truck, swinging by the house. I jumped up and down and waved my arms, and only because people have priority I managed to drag Lucy back in the direction in which she did not want to return. The men would not budge, they would not help, they scolded me that the heavy old pad and under platform was not out at the driveway. They would not assure me that they would come back if I did get to the end of the drive after another round of leave raking.
My host of the computer came for his cheque and we moved it. He got paid but not for moving mattress. There it remains, at the forepart of the property, officially disguised, as garbage, now wet and heaver. And as luck would have it, I have guests. Paying guests. Lovely to see what they used to sleep on. In the meantime, we swing into pre game show, standard operating procedures for guest coming and jump and down in apologetics for the heap at the end of the lane. Politics: A strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles. The conduct of public affairs for private advantage. Ambrose Bierce, Moi and Lucy P