#247 IT COULD ONLY HAPPEN TO ME!

A week or so ago, I probably had one of my weirdest days ever.  It all started the night before when I forgot to set my alarm.

I had a lot of things to do, and when I finally woke up at 9:30 I panicked ...... I had a doctor's appointment at 10!  I had already cancelled and rescheduled once, so I simply had to make it on time.  I rushed out the door in a dead run still pulling on clothes........only to realize that my car was still in the garage.  I returned to the house, chased my dog Oscar into the main part of the house so I could get into the garage without accidentally letting him out.

However, I hadn't shut the back room door tightly; he came bounding out and sprinted for freedom.  Toby (my other dog) was right behind him and the two took off in different directions. That kind of set the tone for the rest of the day.  Refusing to be ruffled I went about chasing the dogs (without shoes).

Twenty minutes later I had finally corralled Toby in the house, but I couldn't find Oscar.  I left the garage door up far enough for Oscar to come back in in case he came home.   I ran through the house (while skuffing my shoes on), flew out the front door, jumped in the car, and froze.  MY KEYS WERE NOT IN MY POCKET.  I diligently searched my purse, the inside of the car and around the front door.  Nope, they were in the house.  Unfortunately, so was the garage door opener.  Now, I want you to be impressed at this point that I did not blow my stack but kept on task.

Sorry, Lord, sometimes
my mouth speaks before
my brain engages.

I ran around to the back door of the garage only to find that the door was locked.  I went back to the car to call the doctor only to find that my cell phone was gone, too.  At this point did the only thing I could do was to lay down on the cement driveway, suck in my gut, butt and boobs (now that was hard) and squeeze under the garage door.  I then charged through the door to the back room and as I opened the door to the kitchen Toby met me and scampered out to freedom AGAIN.  I slammed that door and tore through the house locating my keys, cell phone and garage door opener.  Scooping them up I ran out the door and convinced Toby that he was going for a ride.  As soon as he jumped into the car I grabbed him and wrestled him up to the front door.  Slamming the door (a little too hard) I spun around on the porch and tripped over Oscar.... who took off again.  If I had had a gun I would have shot him right then.   He took off so fast that he was out of sight by the time I apologized to God for my language.

I, dusted myself off, said "Oh, Well," and drove to the doctor's office which was only 10 minutes away.
No one was upset when I arrived 15 minutes late, so all was OK (except for the fact Oscar was probably peeing on every tree in a 1 mile radius).

I called the animal control officer and informed her about Oscar's excape.  She knows me and Oscar's proclivity for running; she promised me she would keep an eye out for him.  When I finally got home Oscar had been gone for over 2 hours.  No calls, no sightings....nothing.  Actually, I was praying that someone would call and say, "Hey, I found your dog, can I keep him?"  Finally, about a half hour before I had to meet the church bus for Wednesday night bible study a kid called.  Hey, Old Lady SWAG, I think I have your dog."

                SIDEBAR: A lot of kids in town call me that and it is a long 

 story which I may tell you some time, but not now.  

I got the boy's location and took off to pick up my wayward dog.  15 minutes and $5.00 (yes, I'm cheep but, I did think of giving him a $50 to keep Oscar).   I sped home,  shoved Oscar in his back room and took off to meet the church bus in front of the t the local drug store.

By the time I got to church I was so tired that I think I dozed through some of the lesson.  Finally,
I got the kids back onto the bus and headed out to drop them off.  Everything appeared to be going OK, that is until I found out that I did not have my purse I HAD LEFT IT AT CHURCH!  OK, after dropping off the kids the bus driver headed back to the church.  I found my purse where I had left it and hitched a ride back to town with a friend.

I am sure that this is what
I must have looked like!

Now, here comes the key phrase: She took me directly home and I collapsed in my recliner until about 10pm.  I sat there for a while to unwind.  Except for the time in the doctor's waiting room, I hadn't stopped running all day.  We were supposed to get a storm that night so I had to put the dogs back in the main part of the house while I went through the den to the garage to pull in my car.  I pushed the button and the door slowly went up.  I stood there in my garage starring at an completely empty driveway.  I exclaimed out loud to myself, "Someone has stolen my car!"

Ever so slowly, my brain processed what my eyes could not believe.  Then like someone plugged me into an electric socket, I was jolted into the realization that my car was still parked where I USUALLY PARK IT.............over 3 miles away!

I am sure he was smiling!

I ran in the house, grabbed my purse and took off for my neighbor's house. Now are you ready for this....as I was standing at her front door I felt a dog's nose on my leg.  There stood Oscar!  When I turned around he bolted and the fun began AGAIN.





Apparently the garage door snagged on something and did not go all the way down and the dogs were out again.  I ran to the house yelling Toby...cookie....cookie.....cookie, and he ran after me and into the house.  Oscar was another matter. I said," I've had it with him," and took off with my neighbor  to get my car.  When we returned we heard her dogs were going off in her back yard.  By that time I was going off too!                  

                                     

TOBY

OSCAR

      My two miscreants!

OK, DOES ANYONE WANT A DOG?  

YOU CAN HAVE BOTH OR CHOICE.

I'LL... PAY... YOU!

kt5/17/14

#200- SHOOTS AND LADDERS

Somewhere around the summer of 2003 I was doing something in the backyard at my grandson’s home.  I heard a crash, then “Awhhh, Mannnn!” and then some grumbling.  A few minutes later I heard the same thing again.  I searched out the source of the commotion and found my grandson, Gene, amidst a pile of rubble (tires, wood, boxes, etc).  When questioned he told me he was trying to build a club house.  To which I said, “Honey, Memaw will build you a club house!  Now, get out of this stuff before hurt yourself.”

AND THIS STARTED THE EPIC 'BUILDING OF THE PLAYHOUSE' SAGA.

I couldn't find plans for a small playhouse or fort so I purchased plans for a small storage shed (6ft X 6ft X 8ft).  Undaunted by the apparent enormity of the project I had chosen, I launched myself into it with my usual gusto.  It took me until November of that year to finish it.  And, it did give me a number of experiences I will never forget. 

Today, I will tell you something I learned about attaching siding to a building [I have already told you about stapling my glove to my hand during this project...see #38 aka 

FRIDAY FLASHBACK = "WHAT A MAROON" (MORON)!].

When screwing siding on to the side of this shed I experienced a problem.   As the screw went in the siding pulled away from the studs.  I could not seem to keep this from happening unless I drilled a hole first.  I saw what kind of time that was going to take so I opted for another way (a gigantic mistake).

This is a picture of the clubhouse as it stands today.

With my ladder (see picture, above) sitting parallel to the wall I was able to put my foot up onto the offending siding.  As the next screw went in the siding started to pull away again.   I simply applied pressure and pushed with my foot to keep it fast.  It was simple all right...SIMPLE MINDED!

As I pushed with my foot my ladder SHOOTS away from the wall leaving me suspended in mid-air (Ok, the word should have been shot not shoots, but I wanted two shoots to go with the title).   I yelled,  "SHOOT!" (that is a substitute for what I actually yelled which also starts with an S= and fulfills the criteria for the second shoot).

"SHIT!   (woops) SHOOT!"

It all seemed to happen in slow motion.  Down I floated, with the electric screwdriver still (SEE COMMENT BELOW)

squealing in my hand.  I clutched that screwdriver for dear life as if it was going to belay my fall.  The potential of major pain looming in my near future, played out  before my eyes.  Luckily, the screwdriver turned off the minute the slow motion stopped and my body crashed to the ground.  Later, I found it hanging over a fence several feet away.

I lay there for a while taking time to assess the situation.  The ladder was lying on its side, but I wasn't!  I was lying on my back looking up at a dreary November sky and mentally searching my body for the injuries I was sure I had just sustained.  I was also searching for my breath, which had escaped into that dreary sky.  Underneath me was the damp soft ground, which, I'm sure, was sporting an indentation the same size and shape of my body.  Feeling no particular pain and seeing no angels floating by, I decided that I was OK and got up.  Not only that, I finished the siding that night.  


(AWH, MANNNNNN!  I didn't work a second ladder into the story so the title would fit.
So, just pretend that I got another ladder to finish the work.)

That is why, when I write THINGS I LEARNED THE HARD WAY part 2,  Number one on the list will be:  Never put your foot up on the side of a building while standing on a ladder!   (See #22-FRIDAY'S FLASHBACKS - Things I learned the hard way part 1).
  

 (COMMENT:  I tried to fix this paragraph 4 times and got no where so the heck with it.  It is those darned poltergeists again!)                                                         

SEE YOU NEXT MONDAY......... FOR "BOO AND BUG-A-BOO"kt 7/2011

                                                                 

#161-WHERE IS "IRON" MAN WHEN I NEED HIM?

Hey, lady, I'm a super-
hero!  I DON'T DO
HOUSEWORK!

It is 11:34 PM on Saturday the 19th of March and I am throwing in the towel, (or as you will soon see, throwing out the iron).  I'll begin with last Saturday which was my father's 100th birthday reception.  (We had to cancel it twice in February because of snow and finally it was a go in the 12th).  However, difficult it was to gather all of his stuff to display on tables, it has been twice as difficult to put it all back in their assigned places.

Therefore, I was supposed to spend most of this week returning pictures to albums, to walls and to book shelves.  I needed to return memorabilia to boxes, quilts to the closets, and birthday cards to his table side.   However, Tuesday, my granddaughter had to deliver her car to the Air Force pick up site in St Louis so it could be delivered to her next station.  She needed me to follower her to St. Louis (6 hours away) and bring her back (another 6 hours).   So that shot the heck out of Tuesday.  It ended up messing up Wednesday and Thursday also, because I was so exhausted from the drive all the way to St. Louis IN A SNOW STORM that I needed the two days to recuperate.

Back to the choirs revolving around the aftermath of the reception.  Part of the party was the loan of 8 fairly large, round, white, cotton, table cloths and 6 blue rayon table drapes.  The loan came with written instructions on how to wash and IRON the table cloths.

Now, I don't iron!   The only ironing I have ever done is to... ... well, it has been so long I don't even remember the last thing I ironed.  So, I washed and dried them, a few at a time, and yanked them out of the dryer piping hot hoping that I would not have to iron them.  Nope, they had that crinkly look that SHOUTED this lazy woman DID NOT IRON ME!

Like most people who do not know how to do something (or absolutely hate doing something) I put the ironing off until today.  I was not being too successful.   First of all I had to find the iron (and that was no easy task).  Then I discovered that it wouldn't steam so I had to find a squirt bottle so I could spray the table cloth.  Next, I discovered that a large ROUND tablecloth was difficult to iron on the ironing board.  I also discovered that my kitchen floor was a little dirty and needed to be cleaned before I could iron, lest the tablecloth (laying partly on the floor) pick up some dirt and require being washed again (Heaven forbid!).

The first one was a disaster.  It wrinkled as fast as I ironed it.   I then experimented by folding the darned thing in half and ironing one side of the half, and then flipped it over to iron the other half and discovered the beautiful IRONED in wrinkles.  It took me 30 minutes to complete this one.

That is when Toby decided that I wasn't paying enough attention to him and grabbed the second one, took off, and ran merrily around the front room dragging it behind him.  He was having a wonderful time (while I was trying to remember where I kept my gun, which in all actuality I have used more often than my iron.....although not lately).

I finally rescued table cloth #2, finished it in 25 minutes (personal best so far) and went back to work.  That is when I discovered that the iron was not doing it's job.  Back and forth, back and forth....nothing...Come to find out, Toby had disconnected the cord when he ran through the room to see where the cat was going.

Setting the iron on the end of the ironing board to reheat I went to find Toby a diversion.  I chose his balloon.  You see, Toby loves helium balloons.  He doesn't pop them like most dogs, he just carries them around by their string.  It is the cutest thing I have ever seen...UNTIL TODAY!  I will bet you don't see where this is going, but hang on...  In comes Toby with his balloon in tow.  He pulls it directly into the iron and the darn thing instantly melts upon contact, snags on the iron and continues to disintegrate.  I yell...... Toby yanks........ and the whole thing goes to the floor.

I shoved Toby out of the way of the hot iron, yank it up by the chord (because it it starting to melt the linoleum on the floor).  Toby thinks its a game and tries to go after the iron.  I dance around screaming,  "NO TOBY, NO TOBY!"  and while yanking the plug from the wall I dance the gooey iron over to the sink and toss it in.

Was the sink empty?...No...Were my dishes done?...NO...but the iron is....... and, mannnnnnn, so am I!
kt 3/2011

#90-FROM THE FRING PAN INTO THE FIRE

From the Frying Pan Into the Fire….

NO, MY FRYING PAN WAS THE FIRE!

         

         In in blog #29 I told you about my ADHD and the roll it plays in my goofy life.  So, my children were (and still are) used to my “weirdness” and mostly took (and still take) it in stride.  At one time in my life I used to burn up at least one frying pan a month.  


One day, while I was cooking dinner the phone rang. 

         
          My young daughter (about 5^th grade) answered it and, matter of fact type voice said, “Mother can’t come to the phone right now.  She's busy burning dinner.”

          She listened for a minute and then said, “Hey, Mom, come talk to Carol.  I’ll burn dinner for you.”

          When I put the receiver to my ear all I could hear was hysterical laughter coming from my best friend, Carol.


(FYI: another fire related blog is #32 and several future blogs.   :) 

 kt 2011

#41-BETER THAN A FULL MOON

Several years back I used to belong to a singles group. We would take all kinds of fun trips together.  We usually camped out and I had several interesting and very memorable times while with them.  One day in particular is baked into my memory. 


First I need to paint you a picture of a big, plump, split top roll (see visual aide).  You know the kind that is over flowing the edge of its baking cup.  Only, picture it really white, like just before it browns.


Now, you need to picture a middle aged, plump lady PACKED into a spandex swimsuit.  Picture her sitting on the end of a old wooden pier with skis on her feet and a towrope in her hands. 


Well, I was that lady.  Also, I was sucking it in for all it was worth because about 25 members of the group were watching me.  All of them were sure they were going to see a spectacular wipe out (since I hadn't skied in years, and they all knew me to NEVER DISAPPOINT THEIR EXPECTATIONS).


Just as I was yanked off the pier, the rear of my suit snagged on a nail head.  Quicker than the blink of an eye, a hole (the size of a grapefruit) was pulled from my suit.  This hole was right in the middle of the body area which is frequently referred to as "the MOON."


Now, go back to what I first asked you to visualize.  My suit was so tight that only a small portion of that "moon" POPPED out.  I knew immediately that I was exposed and quickly let go of the towline.


I slowly turned in the water to find people sprawled all over the pier, hanging on to each other and laughing until they cried.  They begged me to come out of the water so they could see "IT" again!  For a while they even refused to give me a towel (great friends, huh?)


All that evening (and most of the next day) they described the scene over and over to each other (that's why I know exactly what "IT" looked like).


For some reason I acquired the nick name “MOON MAMA!”  I guess it could have been worse.        100% true                                                                                                                     kt 2010

#32-THE 9TH STREET FIRE FIEND

Well, it wasn't quite this bad!

I burned leaves yesterday and I am proud to say, “NOTHING HAPPENED!”  Phew!  No drama!  (Wait a minute, RATS!  That means nothing for my blog!  Bummer!)  My projects usually produce some kind of fiasco.  Then I remembered I definitely cannot say that about what happened a couple of years ago when a fire got away from me.

Let me back up and explain a few things.  I live in a small, rural town, and in the fall we rake our leaves into piles (or into the gutter, as I did today) and burn them.  Plus, my back yard is almost the size of a football field.  Add to that the fact that the property boundaries on three sides are filled with stately elms and oaks.  Of course, being a small town, less stately weed and grass also fills up the property line.

This incident happened, oh, let's say the fall of 06:  I raked the leaves from the “STATELY" litter droppers into one gigantic pile.  The diameter of which was about 10 feet.  I was so clever!  I raked leaves onto a tarp until it was overflowing, then drug the tarp to the burn spot in the middle of this field.  I did this several times.  When finished I covered this potential fire storm (key words) with the tarps to keep the offending leaves from blowing back to their assigned spot or from getting caught in a rain (which would render them to mush).

One cold, overcast, day I stuck my finger in my mouth, pulled it out, held it up in the air and deemed it a good day to burn.  I readied my water hose (which I later found did not reach that far), my rake, and a broom.  I removed the tarps and deftly triggered my fire starter “thingy” and ignited the southern edge of the leaf pile.  Thinking I should start a backfire type burn, I went to the northern end and did the same thing.  However, by that time I had a humongous conflagration and realized I had made a mistake (Duh…it’s me I am talking about).

Even though it seemed a good idea, at the time, to have one large fire to monitor; I failed to realize that several smaller fires, set one at a time, would have been better.  To my alarm the circumference of the fire seemed to grow quickly.  No, not seemed….DID!  The thatch under the grass was burning and the fire was rapidly heading for the north, east, and west property lines and those “STATELY” trees (not to mention my neighbor’s back yards and their “STUFF.”  Oh, and my house to the south). 

I ran around like a mental patient (which I was quickly becoming) trying to beat out the spreading fire.  It didn’t take me long to realize that I wasn’t going to be able to contain it.  I ran to my neighbor’s house to the east (the one least likely to think me an idiot….and call me one to boot).  Being a veteran of grass fires, she ran out with a broom and grabbed an old throw rug off the fence as we sprinted to my back yard.  Between the two of us we circled the perimeter of the fire and BEAT back the flames.  Before long there was no new thatch to feed the fire and it stopped.  In the time it took us to contain the spread, the leaves had been consumed.

Both of us had a politically incorrect appearance because we looked like the white performers who used 'face black' to do their stick.  The neighbor’s husband and son came home and had a great deal of comments to make, to each other, to me, and to his wife (she was quite nice about it saying,"It could happen to anyone, sweetie").  The neighbors to the west got their two cents in too.  In fact I had several, so called, friends who enjoyed making sport of the 9^th street "fire fiend" (Mannnn,  am I racking up nick names or what?   Fire Fiend,  Betty Boop, and Moon Mama ....).

The reminder of this fiasco was evident for quite a while.  One had to only to look at the blackened back yard to know just what had happened.  And, thank God, this was before I had my cat, so she wasn’t endangered, this time.

kt 11/4/2010

#22-THINGS I LEARNED THE HARD WAY

(REMINDER: the giveaway ends on February 28th at midnight - see #117 on 2/1 for details)


For those of you recently following, this is a reprint of an earlier post (with some graphic modifications)


Originally I started out hoping I could of think of ten STUPID things I have done during my lifetime.  Unfortunately, these twenty are just the tip of the iceberg!

  1.   Don’t step up on a tall step (especially when you have to pee). 

  2.   Check out which way the staples come out of a staple gun before

        you use it (or you can staple your work glove to your palm = See #38, What a Maroon!). 

Woops. wrong hand!

  3.   Don’t carry a ladder through a room with a ceiling fan (at least not upright).

  4.   Don’t try to fry eggs on your daughter's glass stove top (she has a mean left hook).

  5.   Speaking of eggs.  Don’t boil eggs in the microwave, either (Ka-pow!).

  6.   Don’t touch the drill bit right after you use it (unless you like pain).

This house was cut
in half by a maniac
wielding a circular saw

  7.   Circular saws can cut through sawhorses (and lots of other GOOD stuff).

  8.   Lawnmowers can throw a rock against a tree so hard that the rock can ricochet off

        (and hit you in the head). 

  9.   But, even more important, lawnmower blades can chop up grass shears 

        (and shoot them out the side as lethal projectiles - just ask my cat).

10.  A tarantula bite feels like a bee sting (and visa versa).

11.  Metal canoes can be bent in half (try not to be in them when they do).

12.  Don’t make a swimsuit out of terry cloth (think about it).

13.  It's the gasoline vapors that ignite (in a big flash) not the liquid gass.
14.  Eyebrows can be burned off by ignited gasoline vapor (also eyelashes and the paper you are holding in your hand).

15.  You can’t paper train a male dog, (unless you also hang a paper on the wall).

16.  And while I am on the subject of pets, no matter how hard you try you can't get a cat to

       blow its nose (but trying to do so can teach them how to blow their cool).

17.  Copper bottom pans can melt off onto the burner (if you get them hot enough).

18.  Also, skillets are no good after they catch on fire (at least they stick like crazy).

19.  Paper plates don’t fare well in the dishwasher (they kind of clog up the works...don't ask).

20.  Don’t stand on the front porch and watch electricity, from lightening, travel up the wet sidewalk toward you (unless you want an electrifying experience).

Yes!  I have first hand experience with EVERY one.


Since spring is on the horizon and,  many projects are being planned, I am SURE there will be a part 2 coming soon. 
ALSO, THERE IS A STORY ABOUT THE TATTOO ON SATURDAY (#142) AND BEING MUGGED IS  COMMING UP ON MONDAY (#144)

kt 2010

#26 HOW I ACQUIRED THE NICK NAME "BETTY BOOP"

When we (my children and I) lived in Culver City California I worked as a clerk in the Municipal Court.  My job, at the time of this story, was to collect the fines for traffic ticket.  It was the 70s and mini skirts/dresses were the rage.  The only problem was that slips were nonexistent because of the shortness of the outfits (soon you will see why this bit if information is important). 

The day I acquired my nickname I was wearing the SHARPEST olive green mini dress money could buy.  It had a large (PLUNGING) white collar, white cuffs and about eight ROUND white buttons (from PLUNG to hem).  I knew I looked Gooooood!

I was standing at the traffic counter finishing up the last person’s ticket.  The counter topped-off at about four inches above my belly button.  It was just the right height to rest my arms on the top of the counter; and do the required work.  In fact we had a very buxom (and shorter) lady who worked there.  She made a habit of throwing back her shoulders and parking her BUXOM on the counter (but that is another story).  Back to MY story.

It is also important to know that there were drawers just below the counter top.  Several of them with flat (another key word) drawer pulls.

A HANDSOME (30-something) gentleman stepped to the counter and I curtly (and with economy of motion) stepped sideways to the left to meet him.  At that very moment my dress caught on one of the knobs, and the side stepping maneuver caused every buttonhole to slip over the beautiful ROUND buttons.  There I was, laid open like a delicately filleted fish.

The man saw this FINE looking woman (ME) standing in front of him in my bra and pantyhose with my dress hanging open.  He also saw that I had a pair of olive green panties on over the hose (lest I inadvertently bent over to pick up a dropped object).   In addition to that he saw that I had CRUDELY draped (and pinned) a small, olive green scarf over and around a portion of my bra (so the plunging neckline would not plunge me into trouble with the judge)

Quickly, I turned around, buttoned my dress, turned back around and said, “May I help you, sir?”

He was standing there with a crooked smile on his face and replied,” You already did!”

TRUE STORY!  (Honestly!)

kt 2010

#23 "A STICKY SITUATION"

     I just completed another home project.  I am glad to say that it went smoothly (and my cat was unharmed).  This time I had to cut, trim and fit a back splash above and beside the sink in my bathroom.  There is always the potential for mishaps since I was using sharp tools.  But nothing was pierced, slashed, or severed.

     Working with quick drying adhesive was daunting but everything went off without a hitch UNTIL I STEPPED INTO A 
                                                     GLOB OF GLUE!

     Since I was wearing sox (and no shoes) I didn’t notice my impending dilemma.   I stood there for a few minutes holding up a panel with each arm, until the adhesive set (key word).   It didn’t take long.  When I started to move my foot I noticed a slight (ok, big) problem.  My left foot was glued into place.

     The adhesive had leached through my sock and glued my sock and (more importantly) my left foot to the floor. 

     I hadn’t put newspapers down because the floor was bare, since I removed the linoleum to put down new floor covering (ahhh, another project in my future).  Hence, I wasn’t going  anywhere, soon.

     The phone was setting on the tank of the toilet and I could have called 911, but I could imagine their response:

          Dispatch:          “Dispatch to EMT 1”

              EMT 1:          “Hey, Flo, whatcha got?”
          Dispatch:          “It’s Ms. T, again!”

              EMT 1:          “What'd she do this time?”

          Dispatch:         “Glued her foot to the floor!”

             EMT 1:                  (a chorus of laughter)

         Dispatch:          “Otis, your mike is open.”

             EMT 1:          “Sorry, (chuckle) we’ll get right over there (chuckle)”.

      No, way was I calling 911!     

     I took some contortions to reach the finger polish remover in the cupboard over the toilet, and a whole bottle of remover to extricate the sock from the floor (and my foot).  Now there’s nice clean shiny place on the ball of my foot.  I guess I sucked all the poison out of it like that stuff advertised on TV.  Maybe I should do the whole foot (or both feet).  Better yet, maybe I should market it.

kt 2010

#22 THINGS I HAVE LEARNED (THE HARD WAY )

Originally I started out hoping I could of think of ten STUPID things I have done during my lifetime.  Unfortunately, these twenty are just the tip of the iceberg!

  1.   Don’t step up on a tall step when you have to pee. 

  2.   Check out which way the staples come out of a staple gun before

        you use it (or you can staple your work glove to your palm = 

        future blog).

  3.   Don’t carry a ladder through a room with a ceiling fan (at least not upright).

  4.   Don’t try to fry eggs on your glass stove top.

  5.   Speaking of eggs.  Don’t boil eggs in the microwave, either.

  6.   Don’t touch the drill bit right after you use it (unless you like pain).

  7.   Circular saws can cut through sawhorses (and lots of other GOOD stuff). 

  8.   Lawnmowers can throw a rock against a tree so hard that the rock can ricochet off

        (and hit you in the head). 

  9.   But, even more important, lawnmower blades can chop up grass shears 

        (and shoot them out the side as lethal projectiles - just ask my cat).

10.  A tarantula bite feels like a bee sting (and visa versa).

11.  Metal canoes can be bent in half (try not to be in them when they do).

12.  Don’t make a swimsuit out of terry cloth (think about it).

13.  Gasoline vapor ignites, (in a big flash) not the liquid gas.

14.  Eyebrows can be burned off by ignited gasoline vapor.

15.  You can’t paper train a male dog, (unless you, also, hang a paper on the wall).

16.  And while I am on the subject of pets, no matter how hard you try you can't get a cat to
       blow its nose.
17.  Copper bottom pans can melt off onto the burner (if you get them hot enough).

18.  Also, skillets are no good after they catch on fire (at least they stick like crazy).

19.  Paper plates don’t fare well in the dishwasher (they kind of clog up the works).

20.  Don’t stand on the front porch and watch electricity, from lightening, travel up 

        the wet sidewalk toward you (unless you want an electrifying experience).

Yes!  I have first hand experience with EVERY one.

kt 2010