22 November 2015
Story #792
R. Linda:
There be no other way to say it, but to tell it how it is, and the sad truth is: Dragon has got it into her head that she's moving to New Hampshire. The excuse is that she is tired of people asking what exit she lives off, the traffic on the Garden State Parkway is horrendous, there are too many people, and the weather has changed drastically. So, it's time to move!
As this news sank into me numb, denying brain, I piped up in a squeaky, sulking voice, "Why not move to Colorado?"
"Colorado? What's in Colorado?" The Dragon's voice was incredulous.
"Uh . . . R. Linda?" I squeaked.
"Who is R. Linda?" She asked, getting annoyed at me.
"Me muse," I said.
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at me like she had no time for me. She waved a hand at me in dismissal. If she had a wand in it, I am sure she'd have reduced yours truly to frog status, ah-ribbit!
"But why?" I moaned to me wife as Dragon left the room.
"Because it is pretty here." She answered, using me own words to describe where I live right back at me.
"Woe is yours truly," I whined.
That was enough for her to get up and leave for more coffee in the kitchen, where the Dragon was busy depanning muffins. It was only me and Mam in the den. She was sitting, looking down at the floor, teacup balanced precariously in her lax fingers. She sighed heavily, and I knew she was thinking the same thoughts I was. WHY?
I whispered to her that I was not happy about this development. She sighed back, nodding. Kindred spirits we two, sitting there trying to think how to stop the woman, but neither of us wanted to send our thoughts there. Too much work.
"I knoo," Mam said in a low voice, holding a finger up like she had a grand idea, "you and me will move to Colorado."
"Oh yeah sure, and leave Tonya and the kiddos at the mercy of the Dragon Lady. We can't do that, and if we even hinted at doing that, the Dragon would surround them with legal wagons, and we wouldn't stand an arrow's chance of getting them out of there."
"Wot?" Mam said, looking at me like I had just spoken a string of Chinese.
"Never mind."
I got up and paced from one end of the house to the other. As I came pacing by Mam, who was still sitting where I left her, she pulled at me sleeve and I bent down to hear her whisper, "At least she isn't moving in! In here with us."
I stood up, and yes, that was true. There were no homes next to us for sale, although there was one down the way. Oh boy, just down the road, way too close.
"I can see wot yer tinkin'. Dat hoose down da rood." Me mother's Irish was becoming thick as her nerves got more scrambled.
"It be big, it would fit all her fumily in it. She would be within walkin' distance, an' she could lord it over 'er former neighbours in Jersey that she bought another giant hoose! A giant hoose not far from 'er beloved dotter and 'er kiddos."
R. Linda:
There be no other way to say it, but to tell it how it is, and the sad truth is: Dragon has got it into her head that she's moving to New Hampshire. The excuse is that she is tired of people asking what exit she lives off, the traffic on the Garden State Parkway is horrendous, there are too many people, and the weather has changed drastically. So, it's time to move!
As this news sank into me numb, denying brain, I piped up in a squeaky, sulking voice, "Why not move to Colorado?"
"Colorado? What's in Colorado?" The Dragon's voice was incredulous.
"Uh . . . R. Linda?" I squeaked.
"Who is R. Linda?" She asked, getting annoyed at me.
"Me muse," I said.
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at me like she had no time for me. She waved a hand at me in dismissal. If she had a wand in it, I am sure she'd have reduced yours truly to frog status, ah-ribbit!
"But why?" I moaned to me wife as Dragon left the room.
"Because it is pretty here." She answered, using me own words to describe where I live right back at me.
"Woe is yours truly," I whined.
That was enough for her to get up and leave for more coffee in the kitchen, where the Dragon was busy depanning muffins. It was only me and Mam in the den. She was sitting, looking down at the floor, teacup balanced precariously in her lax fingers. She sighed heavily, and I knew she was thinking the same thoughts I was. WHY?
I whispered to her that I was not happy about this development. She sighed back, nodding. Kindred spirits we two, sitting there trying to think how to stop the woman, but neither of us wanted to send our thoughts there. Too much work.
"I knoo," Mam said in a low voice, holding a finger up like she had a grand idea, "you and me will move to Colorado."
"Oh yeah sure, and leave Tonya and the kiddos at the mercy of the Dragon Lady. We can't do that, and if we even hinted at doing that, the Dragon would surround them with legal wagons, and we wouldn't stand an arrow's chance of getting them out of there."
"Wot?" Mam said, looking at me like I had just spoken a string of Chinese.
"Never mind."
I got up and paced from one end of the house to the other. As I came pacing by Mam, who was still sitting where I left her, she pulled at me sleeve and I bent down to hear her whisper, "At least she isn't moving in! In here with us."
I stood up, and yes, that was true. There were no homes next to us for sale, although there was one down the way. Oh boy, just down the road, way too close.
"I can see wot yer tinkin'. Dat hoose down da rood." Me mother's Irish was becoming thick as her nerves got more scrambled.
"It be big, it would fit all her fumily in it. She would be within walkin' distance, an' she could lord it over 'er former neighbours in Jersey that she bought another giant hoose! A giant hoose not far from 'er beloved dotter and 'er kiddos."
 |
| Yup, antique colonial, Currier and Ives, go back into the woods, BIG enough for a Dragon lair! |
I nodded, thinking that over. Yes, that be exactly what she'd do. She'd then invite the entire Jersey shore up for a visit, and, of course, like a tour guide, she'd walk them to our abode to show them how her son-in-law doesn't do yard work, but the three wee kiddos were just so adorable. Yup, I could see it all now. And when the Jersey folks went home, she'd join the local garden club and tell them all about what an awful man I be and how I don't do a lick of yard work, etc. Yes, me name would become infamous and everyone would know me business back in Jersey and up here.
"We must stop this!" I said louder than I meant to. But I was in a panic, I was. What to do?
Mam stuck a finger in the air like she was testing for a breeze. I stopped and bent down as she whispered, "YOU must buy dat big hoose. Dat way she can't live dat cloose."
"With what me good looks?" I asked, actually entertaining the idea—that is how desperate I was becoming.
"Noo, I will give ye wot ya need," Mam said nodding. And she was serious, and I thought she didn't have that kind of money. But if she did . . . no, I couldn't, but I was sorely tempted. The woman indeed has no sense of what real estate in this country costs, compared to Ireland, where everything to someone here would seem a bargain!
Meanwhile, as if me day couldn't get any worse, I receive this cryptic invite from the Weasil, asking me to fly to Scotland for the annual haggis hunt. Now there be no creature such as a haggis; it be a sheep's bladder stuffed with entrails, Scotch whiskey and oatmeal that be cooked and served up with potatoes and turnips and lots of strong whiskey. But for some reason, he has got it into his head that it isn't a sheep bladder filled with things most people would not eat, but the finished product comes from a kind of rabbit-like creature (a large hare, actually) with horns like a reindeer. He even has one mounted in his trophy room. Yes, he has a trophy room! I mean, who doesn't? Oi.
Mam pointed out it would be an escape for one of us if Dragon bought that house. Uh, yes, yes, it would be, but at that moment, I couldn't reckon which was worse. Helping Dragon move into a home much too close to our own, or going hunting for a creature that exists in the mind of a lunatic for a long weekend. The results would be the same, I'd be coming home to an ensconced Dragon anyway, so the hunt was out.
I did wonder if the childhood memory the Dragon-in-law often regaled me and the kiddos about was still standing. She told us stories about a place in Hamburg, New Jersey, called the Gingerbread Castle, where she was taken as a kid for a tour of the witch's castle and, upon conclusion, a helping of freshly baked gingerbread with lots of whipped cream. That is the place for her. I just know it is. But alas, I was told it does not stand very firmly, BUT I think it's for sale! If only I could get those fond memories of her early witchhood flowing, she might go back and buy the place. YES, that's it!
I did bring that subject up, or at least tried to. She wouldn't listen; she just waved me away and laughed as if it were a foolish idea. I will keep trying, I will!
After an hour of worrying, I called the Realtor who sold me my abode. I told her Dragon was going to ring her about house viewings and not show her anything in me neighbourhood. She laughed. I didn't share her amusement, I can tell ya that much! After more hemming and hawing, as they say in Vermont, I got an "I'll see what I can do" out of her. I wasn't encouraged, but I persisted with the request. Could she put a sold sign on the house sign just down the road from me? I already knew Dragon had seen the 'for sale' sign, so that couldn't be done. If a buyer were out riding around and saw that house, they wouldn't bother, and Mrs. Realtor would be out of a sale. SIGH. Besides, she said, that house has been vacant for two years and they'd like to sell it. Oh! And by the way, the price of it has come way down. Oh, great, just the news I didn't want to hear, but then wait — maybe Mam could afford it! How much was it? I asked, and the answer was still too pricy.
So I sit here, dreading the day Dragon comes swooping in on her broomstick to inform us she's found a house. Not just any house, but the one up the road. Eee-yeh. Though I did try to head that off at the pass (as they say in Colorado) and told her, "Yeah, I looked at that house, it was filled with fleas, seems the former owner had two mastiffs and they were full of fleas." That little nugget made her eyes open wide until me own wife had to interject that we never looked at that house, it was much too big and expensive. Thanks, Tonya! So I quickly jumped in and said, "I heard that's why it hasn't sold."
Oh yeah, that went over like a lead balloon (like they say in New Jersey) and that was that for now. Any ideas you might have to stop the Dragon Lady from moving here, AND looking at homes close to my own, would be much appreciated. Meanwhile, I am contemplating that invitation to Scotland. I could get lost in the Highlands for months or years. I could live in the haunted castle that Weasil went ghost hunting in, Mam could smuggle the wife and kiddos up there, and the Dragon would wonder what magic trick made us all disappear. I know I be off on a panicked tangent (without the excuse of spicy food). So would you if you had the Dragon Lady's shadow about to loom over your house for the rest of your life.
Gabe
Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved
"We must stop this!" I said louder than I meant to. But I was in a panic, I was. What to do?
Mam stuck a finger in the air like she was testing for a breeze. I stopped and bent down as she whispered, "YOU must buy dat big hoose. Dat way she can't live dat cloose."
"With what me good looks?" I asked, actually entertaining the idea—that is how desperate I was becoming.
"Noo, I will give ye wot ya need," Mam said nodding. And she was serious, and I thought she didn't have that kind of money. But if she did . . . no, I couldn't, but I was sorely tempted. The woman indeed has no sense of what real estate in this country costs, compared to Ireland, where everything to someone here would seem a bargain!
Meanwhile, as if me day couldn't get any worse, I receive this cryptic invite from the Weasil, asking me to fly to Scotland for the annual haggis hunt. Now there be no creature such as a haggis; it be a sheep's bladder stuffed with entrails, Scotch whiskey and oatmeal that be cooked and served up with potatoes and turnips and lots of strong whiskey. But for some reason, he has got it into his head that it isn't a sheep bladder filled with things most people would not eat, but the finished product comes from a kind of rabbit-like creature (a large hare, actually) with horns like a reindeer. He even has one mounted in his trophy room. Yes, he has a trophy room! I mean, who doesn't? Oi.
 |
| Courtesy Museum of the Weird Yes, THIS is what the Weasil thinks is a haggis in the wild |
Mam pointed out it would be an escape for one of us if Dragon bought that house. Uh, yes, yes, it would be, but at that moment, I couldn't reckon which was worse. Helping Dragon move into a home much too close to our own, or going hunting for a creature that exists in the mind of a lunatic for a long weekend. The results would be the same, I'd be coming home to an ensconced Dragon anyway, so the hunt was out.
I did wonder if the childhood memory the Dragon-in-law often regaled me and the kiddos about was still standing. She told us stories about a place in Hamburg, New Jersey, called the Gingerbread Castle, where she was taken as a kid for a tour of the witch's castle and, upon conclusion, a helping of freshly baked gingerbread with lots of whipped cream. That is the place for her. I just know it is. But alas, I was told it does not stand very firmly, BUT I think it's for sale! If only I could get those fond memories of her early witchhood flowing, she might go back and buy the place. YES, that's it!
 |
| Is this perfect or what? |
After an hour of worrying, I called the Realtor who sold me my abode. I told her Dragon was going to ring her about house viewings and not show her anything in me neighbourhood. She laughed. I didn't share her amusement, I can tell ya that much! After more hemming and hawing, as they say in Vermont, I got an "I'll see what I can do" out of her. I wasn't encouraged, but I persisted with the request. Could she put a sold sign on the house sign just down the road from me? I already knew Dragon had seen the 'for sale' sign, so that couldn't be done. If a buyer were out riding around and saw that house, they wouldn't bother, and Mrs. Realtor would be out of a sale. SIGH. Besides, she said, that house has been vacant for two years and they'd like to sell it. Oh! And by the way, the price of it has come way down. Oh, great, just the news I didn't want to hear, but then wait — maybe Mam could afford it! How much was it? I asked, and the answer was still too pricy.
So I sit here, dreading the day Dragon comes swooping in on her broomstick to inform us she's found a house. Not just any house, but the one up the road. Eee-yeh. Though I did try to head that off at the pass (as they say in Colorado) and told her, "Yeah, I looked at that house, it was filled with fleas, seems the former owner had two mastiffs and they were full of fleas." That little nugget made her eyes open wide until me own wife had to interject that we never looked at that house, it was much too big and expensive. Thanks, Tonya! So I quickly jumped in and said, "I heard that's why it hasn't sold."
Oh yeah, that went over like a lead balloon (like they say in New Jersey) and that was that for now. Any ideas you might have to stop the Dragon Lady from moving here, AND looking at homes close to my own, would be much appreciated. Meanwhile, I am contemplating that invitation to Scotland. I could get lost in the Highlands for months or years. I could live in the haunted castle that Weasil went ghost hunting in, Mam could smuggle the wife and kiddos up there, and the Dragon would wonder what magic trick made us all disappear. I know I be off on a panicked tangent (without the excuse of spicy food). So would you if you had the Dragon Lady's shadow about to loom over your house for the rest of your life.
Gabe
Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved
LMAO hang myself? I love th castle but no dragons allowed! AND NEVER send her here! Not EVEN for a vacation! I have gotten to where I speak my mind to rude people. I don't win popularity contests. So as far as Colorado goes, NO DRAGONS WANTED!
ReplyDeleteDarn! I was hoping you'd be up for the challenge of a snaggletoothed dragon living nearby. I only wanted to share the joy, LOL.
ReplyDeleteLMAO share good stuff! .NOT dragons or crappy weather! THANK GOD nobody knows where I live! I don't have a dungeon to hide in.
ReplyDeleteI saw pictures - you live in a castle so you must have a dungeon.
ReplyDeletethe castle is attractive if you are into cartoons. the giant house i think someone we know lived in if not mistaken? the wild and woolly haggis looks like a trip down weasil's fantasy lane. have fun if you decided to hunt the haggis!
ReplyDeleteLead balloon LOL We say, meaning you and I, sack of spuds yes? I was in Aruba when you wrote this so I apologize for not getting back. Not many Gingerbread Castles there! Anyway, wanted to wish you Gabe and your family the merriest of Christmases and a very Healthy and Happy New Year. No more mishaps ok? Feel better and a Merry Xmas to all.
ReplyDelete