Jeans

JEANS:
Somebody came up with that name.  When you see the word, a vision - your vision of jeans springs into view.  I visualize blue denim trousers.  I do own a few pair of gray and/or black jeans.  I do not own Green Jeans.   That was a guy on TV.

Normally, if I plan to dress up in jeans - a concept that is somewhat flawed to start - I will wear the Gray or Black jeans.  To me, blue jeans fail miserably in the dress-up category.  Frankly, Gray & Black (or Green) jeans fail too.  But in my VIEW, in today's society, jeans are loved and respected in the strangest and "wrongest" places.  Must I even mention jeans that are torn or ripped by manufacturer and sold at twice the price?
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Our little Sadie is having stomach problems.  She is emitting a dark brown substance (liquid if you will) instead of well formed projectiles.  In other words, her poop is runny.  At times she has lost control and little brown droplets appear on the floor.  Out comes the mop.  She is not like our boy dogs who want to mark the world.  No self-respecting female dog would want to mark anything with droplets of brown poop.
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We gave her some Pepto-Bismo last night.  They say that a bit of pumpkin out of a can works too. We don't have pumpkin on our shelf right now.  Who keeps pumpkin in the merry month of May?  How does this relate to Jeans?
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When I held her to pump the Pepto down her throat, her bottom caressed the upper left leg of my blue jeans.  A three inch spot appeared.  Poor Sadie; she knows not what she does.
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Now, I have jeans which need immediate washing.  This morning I dug through the closet and came up with 8 pair of blue, gray, and black jeans to wash plus a pair from the wife (of recent Mother's Day fame) and several pair of dark socks.  Some of you won't believe this.  I washed my own jeans.  I put in the soap and pushed the start button.  Of course, Of course, the spouse (of recent....etc.) had to show me which button to push on the washer.  I suppose in my youth, I may have washed my own jeans.  I can't remember when.  My mother and later my wife have always handled this chore for me.  They understand washing machines.
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My first load is in the dryer;  the second load is finishing up in the washer.  Next, I will try to learn how to hang up trousers.  This may be over my pay scale.
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A couple years ago - it may have been 2 or 5 or whatever - I heard (or read or was told by somebody or saw on TV) that the CEO of Levi's said that he never washes his jeans.  Think on that for a bit.  The boss of the company that makes Levi's said --- I don't think I am confused here  ---  he said, "I never wash my jeans."  Surely it wasn't the CEO of Wranglers.  Who would interview the CEO of Wranglers?  Nope.  It had to be Levi's.
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So, here is what we got.  The guy who runs the jeans company never washes his pants.  Of course, he doesn't.  He throws them away and gets another new pair.  Does he even buy his own jeans?  I bet there is an Inspector #8 down on the line who pulls out his size every other day and delivers them to his closet - hung properly.  The Inspector #8 then removes the older (one week maybe) pair and throws them into a "recycle to the poor house" bin.
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I dug on a hole last week down by the lake edge.  The bottom three inches of my work jeans sucked up mud.  Can you imagine the CEO of Levi's digging a hole in his penthouse suite on top of the Blue Levi's High Rise building?  Of course the Levi bldg is blue.  What other color could it be?   Maybe he gets his jeans blemished when he climbs into the back of his Limo.  Wait.  In all fairness, his brake pedal on his Porsche sports car convertible might rub his left leg.  I don't know this gentleman.  I don't know his name or the color of his eyes.  He might be a wonderful feller.   I think his statement was - - - I love the concept.   
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Yep.  Until today, I can say that like the CEO of Levi's I never wash my jeans.
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In the spirit of fairness and openness, I need to report that my middle name is Eugene, oft times shortened to Gene by many, and my #2 daughter (by age) has a middle name of Jeanne.  These facts have had no bearing on the above account.  I do not show favoritism to anyone named or associated with Jeans.  Once had a student named Jean Dupy.  She was really a nice, sweet girl who was quite impish.

Next week:  Wearing Jeans to Church, Biblical or Cool  

Post Mother's Day Post

I thought the title was cute.  "Post Mother's Day Post."  It's probably not enough to make it into Bartlett's Quotes.  But, I'll live.  Sometimes I am so cute, I can't hardly hug myself enough.   Now Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
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With that said: I had a fairly nice mother's day.  We made it to Wax-a-hatchet (spelling stolen from son Roger) in time for the lunch buffet at El Fenix.  Frankly, I prefer Panchos - smaller crowds - fewer waiters hustling for your attention - more enchilada choices - as much guacamole as you care to have - less room noise (something that has bothered me quite a bit since I put in the hearing aids) - cheaper - and memories.
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It was good to see Tom and Laura.  Their dog Hannah - recently paralyzed - operated on - spends time in a crate till her back improves - Hannah looked good.  She was so happy to see us all.  While she still doesn't run and play (a 3 yr old dog will run and play), she was still somewhat mobile.  And, her Licker was fine tuned just enough to reach my nose.
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Went over to Lowe's and made arrangements for a storm door to be installed both on our front and back doors.  The back door one will have a doggy door implanted in the glass.  I'm sure the dogs will love laying down inside the house while they scan the back yard through the glass - then, Whamming!!  through the doggy door as they attempt to maim the local squirrels.  Plus - now, they will be able to look out the front door as well and warm up their Barkers for our local traffic.  We all do love to bark at the local pickup trucks that frequent our cul-de-sac.
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Wednesday should bring the guy here to measure the door openings and plan the installation.
Tuesday will bring a different guy here to fix our refrigerator and dish washer.  Really?
The dishwasher door has 2 springs to support the door.  Both springs are broken.  The freezer is flowing water out the bottom.  I think the freezer drain may be clogged, but, of course it could be a leak from the ice maker.  Since the leak doesn't happen every time the ice dumps - or only when the ice tray fills, I am optimistic as you should be too. 
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Thursday - is my semi-annual visit to my doctor so he can tell me that my blood sugar is too high.  Lately, this doctor seems concerned that the blood sugar will get too low some night and I will croak. I have never had a "low."  I don't know how fun that would be. Let's think on it a bit.
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On the way home we stopped in Walmarts to buy yarn for the "Mother" (of recent Mother's Day fame).  Now we are all set for a future trip.  
      Daughter Christine is going to a Tandy's store soon and buy a couple of leather projects which we can use on a future trip.  I have leather working tools which I never use enough.  If only I could get a real horse; then, maybe I could make a saddle.  Frankly you can only make so many billfolds, key rings, and leather pouches.
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Stay tuned.  My next bluggy will have to do with blue jeans - if I remember to write the next bluggy.  Y'all take care now, ya here?
m3

p.s. did I ever mention that Christine sent us a recipe for wrapping bacon around dill pickle spears - cooking in the oven till done - and eating of course.  She thinks this is a great product.   I had a bit of a problem with eating a hot pickle.  To each his own I suppose.

May 11th, it is

It is May 11th, Sat.
I do much better at this when I am feeling chipper and have excess time.
The rains come and keep coming and coming.  I am so tired of thunder and lightening and water everywhere.  I realize that in a couple of months it will be 100 degrees in the shade and no rain anywhere.  I know, I know.  But still, wouldn't it be nice to have 4 days in a row without rain?
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Oscar, my ball playing boy, doesn't like thunder.  Since we can't go out and play ball, he doesn't like rain either.  As it roars outside, my boy is here on the floor beside me - I have covered him with a small blanket, and he seems less distressed.
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I've often had a theory about this.  Some dogs are so scared of thunder;  others pay it no mind.  I'm thinking the smarter ones are afraid because they process the noise.  On the other hand, maybe they are dumber because they process the noise.  My boy is just scared, just plain scared.  Our little Liesl girl dog use to be afraid of thunder too.  Greta and Fritz could have cared less.  My boy Bruno seems to go with the flow...as long as there is a big bowl of food at the end of that rainbow.
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We had a major disaster last week here at my house.  My daily game was really thrown off kilter.  It has been a long time since I was so frustrated and beat down.   Our microwave broke.  Your immediate reaction is  something like - "stupid."  My father got a microwave back in the 60s-one of the first in town.  I've had one in the family forever.  Some of you might have been born after the microwave was common place.  I challenge you - go for a week without one.  That is the same as challenging you to walk a mile in my shoes, buddy.
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A few months ago, we had a power outage.  This is nothing new here.  Some are brief; some last for several hours.  I don't understand the problem.  We own lots of candles and lanterns.  After this particular outage, the microwave was shut down.  Nothing.  No clock; No nuthin'.  I began to look up microwaves on Consumer Reports and online.   4 hours later, BOING!!  It restarted.   Just like that.  BOING!!   All was well..
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About a month later, a power outage and - it never came back on.  Back to Consumer Reports and internet I went.   Then; about 6 hours later -- you guessed it -- (I assume you guessed it )  BOING!!  All was well.  It has nothing to do with the length of the outage, just that it was an outage.
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Last week - Wednesday, I believe - the lights went off for less than a minute.  Perhaps, it was only just a moment.   No microwave.  I climbed up and unplugged it for a couple of minutes.  It seems that you reset some microwaves by unplugging for 30 seconds or so.  It is a computer, you know.  Nothing.  Consumer Reports and the Internet and I had a religious meeting.   Several hours later, I unplugged it again and left it that way over night.  Still nothing.
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Here is my thought:  It is not a fuse.  It is the motherboard.  Fuses do not reset.  Breakers can be reset.  Fuses will not.  I read that fuses for microwaves cost nearly $200.  That is probably a lie.  But, a motherboard is liable to cost more than a new machine.  Because our old machine hangs over the stove, we have a problem with the plastic front door cracking - it melts over time.  The outside of this machine was on its last legs.
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Let's reduce this story to something shorter.  We bought a new GE down at Sears.  It was a floor model hanging on their wall.  We paid to have it installed.   The guys installing broke part of the screw mechanism.  The installer said that he would go back to the store and order us a new microwave.   I rolled my eyes.  He said they would call when the new machine comes in.  I rolled my eyes.  They left this one hanging on the wall, held by a back bracket and one strong screw.  

I am afraid this stone is not over yet.
I'll close now and ask you to pray for my niece Marion.  
More on that at a later date.
M3