" I DON'T WANT TO DRIVE IN THE DIRT"

It is just one of those days.   I just spent the last 10 minutes writing this blog and it suddenly disappeared. Which just goes to prove my point that it is indeed, "Just One Of Those Days" when EVERYTHING goes wrong.  

It started this morning when I woke up with a headache.  I just wanted to go back to sleep and make the world go away but WE had a full day of stuff ahead of us.  The Man's brother was coming over at 10 to bring the extra blow up bed for our guests arriving on Saturday for 10 days.  The furnace guy was coming at 11 to service the furnace in preparation for our departure to Florida in FOUR weeks. The Man had then decided he wanted to come with me into town to go to the laundromat, post office, bank and grocery store.  I REALLY had been looking forward to doing this on my own for some "quiet" time off the " reservation" but The Man wanted to "help".  Oh lucky me !  I could tell he also was not functioning at 100% but he insisted he drive.  So once our two visitors came and went WE packed up the car with 2 comforters, a fist full of quarters, detergent, boxes for the post office, a box and 2 bags for St. Vincent de Paul and a bunch of empty soda cans to be deposited in the bin at the grocery store.  (The local high school has a big open bin in the parking lot of the grocery store so you can drive up and deposit all your soda and beer cans to help fund the high school teams. They must make a fortune because they have had this bin there for several years now. )

First stop was the laundromat . . . Naturally The Man sits in the car for all our stops.  (He IS on oxygen you know.) I dragged in the first king size comforter, left it on a table and returned to the car to get the second comforter and detergent.  Once inside I found that one of the 3 heavy duty machines was out of order but fortunately the other two were working and no one was using them.  (Score one for me!). Comforters IN and running so back to the car for stop #2. The bank to get more quarters.  NO problem there.  Stop #3, the post office where I got to spend almost $8 sending two toothbrushes back to The Man's grand daughter and her boy friend.  (They had arrived this past weekend for a visit and as a result I had to wash the second comforter AGAIN because I think they were eating pizza in bed.  I had just washed the cover last week in preparation for our next batch of company but it was in no condition to be used after the "kids' visit.)

Anyway . . .  Next stop, St. Vinnys. I got the large box out of the car and wrestled it into the drop off room only to have The Man questioning what was in the box.  Dear God in Heaven, like I am throwing away something that he may consider a treasure.  (Everything is a treasure to The Man) but I was good because it was crap from the yard sale collection that WE had gone through earlier this summer.  PHEW !  Now on to our last stop . . . a "DRIVE BY" in the parking lot of "Pats Grocery.  I have done this drop at least a dozen times this summer.  Put the bag of cans on the passenger seat of the car, drive up to the bin, open the window and "TOSS"!!!!!  

We pulled into the parking lot and The Man came to a stop.  I looked at him and before I could even speak, (He knew exactly what I was going to say, "Pull up to the bin and I'll toss out the bag", he said, and I quote,  "I DON'T WANT TO DRIVE IN THE DIRT" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   And because he did not want to drive in the dirt I now had to climb out of the car for the 4th time this morning and walk the bag over to the bin.  

Now I realize I need the exercise BUT . . .   ARE YOU KIDDING ME ??????????  

It was after that incident that I suggested we drive him back home so he could rest.  He looked totally exhausted.  He agreed that he was not feeing 100% and it would probably be a good idea.  

I am now sitting in the car outside the laundromat waiting for my soaking wet comforters to dry.  It seems that something was not working with either of the washers so the comforters were still quite wet when they came out of the washer.  At this point I don't care if it costs me $40 to dry the damn things.  I'm in NO hurry to return home.  

ANOTHER B. - O. - S.

 I don't know what the problem is with The Man but he seems to have a huge issue with B.O.S. Otherwise known as BIG ORANGE SIGNS !!!  (I could say BFS but that is not very lady like). Do you happen to remember several weeks ago I wrote about The Man not paying attention to the B.O.S. (BIG ORANGE SIGN) that sat smack dab in the center of a road we were on.  That particular sign said, "ROAD CLOSED".  The sign was LARGE, and the sign was ORANGE, a combination that is pretty hard to miss as you drive down the road.  We were not traveling at warp speed or the speed of light, we were driving about 35 miles an hour and yet The Man did not choose to read the sign or if he DID read the sign he choose to ignore it.  And then complained for DAYS that the road was closed but no one told him!!

Moving on to todays adventure . . .   There is a small bridge on the "highway" going through the next town, Rapid River.  The bridge is old and apparently in dire need of repairs. Last month the highway department put up some BOS going through Rapid River warning they were going to close one of the two lanes on the bridge for repairs. They warned there would be "POSSIBLE DELAYS".  We all know what that means.  Well true to their word they did indeed close one lane and put up a traffic light that allowed cars to take turns crossing the bridge on the one open lane.  It was NOT nearly as bad as we expected especially since it is the middle of the summer and the highway is a main route for tourists coming and going across the UP.  At most we were inconvenienced thirty SECONDS on any of our several trips back and forth to Manistique for pulmonary rehab.  The closure lasted maybe two weeks and then as suddenly as it appeared it was gone. Much to the delight of The Man.  (There were no problems associated with the road work but The Man just does not like change of any kind.)

Fast forward to Last Thursday's trip to Manistique.  There, by the side of the road in the middle of Rapid River, stood a NEW B.O.S. (Big Orange Sign). This sign announced that road work would resume on Monday, August 22.  "EXPECT DELAYS".    OK,  NO biggie . . . the last bit of road work wasn't bad at all so we can just roll with it.  NOT !!!!  The Man began to stress all day because there was going to be MORE road work.  Then he forgot about it and went on with his life.  

UNTIL  this morning when, at 10 AM we approached Rapid River and the B.O.S. said, "ROAD WORK AHEAD"  (Now let me take a moment to tell you that when I say "traffic" I am NOT referring to traffic that most of us are familiar with from either the Long Island Expressway or I 95 at rush hour.  The definition of traffic in the UP is anything more than 2 cars.  When in a "traffic Jam" in the UP you may have to wait all of 3 seconds but that is rare. We are not talking about 3 HOUR delays in bumper to bumper traffic as you inch your way along a two mile stretch of road. )  So there we were approaching the B.O.S. and The Man is starting to panic.  "We're going to be late", "Damn road work", "What are they doing now????" All of this is being said as we continue to roll through Rapid River and over the bridge where there is NO road work. Not a single worker to be seen, no traffic light and no closed lanes on the road.  Next second we see another B.O.S. telling us we are leaving the work zone.  I do believe The Man was actually disappointed that there was no road work.  

But we are not done . . .  We still have to make the return journey after rehab.  

It is now about 12:30 in the afternoon as we once again approach Rapid River on our return trip home.  About a mile outside of town what should our wondering eyes see but,  yes,   a BIG ORANGE SIGN !!!!  Standing right there on the side of the road telling us, you guessed it,  "ROAD WORK AHEAD".   Did The Man see the sign? Or did he just choose not to believe it because they had lied to us earlier on our way to Manistique?  I honestly can't say but when we suddenly came around a curve in the road and found ourselves in a line of traffic about THIRTY cars long The Man said, and I quote, "WHAT THE HELL ???  THERE MUST BE AN ACCIDENT!"  

HELLO OOOOOOO OOOOOO OOOOOOO.  Did you not just see a BIG ORANGE SIGN telling you there was ROAD WORK AHEAD  ?????????????????????                  Did I say that out loud?                 Of course not!  I"m not stupid.  Instead I muttered something like, "Oh Wow, how about that!" and then began composing this blog in my head because it was just TOO good not to share. 

TUESDAY WITH ELVIS

 Late last night just before we were about to shut off the light and go to sleep The Man asked, "Can we get Elvis music on my phone?" Now this is not exactly the sort of question I am prepared to answer just as I'm falling asleep so it took me a second or two to process.  Can we get Elvis music on The Man's phone?  WHAT ???    The Man went on to state that on Tuesday Elvis Presley will be dead 49 years.  (I have just discovered that it was LAST Tuesday NOT this coming Tuesday. NO matter which Tuesday it is I really couldn't care less but apparently this IS a BIG deal to The Man.)

OK back to "The Question" . . .  My first reaction . . . IN MY HEAD . . . was WHY would I WANT to get Elvis music on my phone?  I did not speak this out loud because I know The Man is a HUGE Elvis fan. (Of course he is, he loves country music and he lives in the UP which is one step this side of hillbilly redneck, but in a very good way.) So naturally The Man would want to play Elvis' music to commemorate the death of The King of Rock and Roll.  Unfortunately, The Man wanted to channel the Elvis tribute through his phone and into the car radio as we drove an hour each way to his pulmonary therapy.  The thought of two hours of steady Elvis is enough to make me contemplate suicide.  

It is not that I don't like Elvis music . . .  I just don't LOVE Elvis music.  If one Elvis song plays on the radio that's fine with me but 2 hours worth really would put me over the edge. I was 12 years old when Elvis hit stardom so I really wasn't into music yet.  I was still listening to the music of my parents era, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and for country music it was Tennessee Ernie Ford with his song, "Sixteen Tons". (I can still remember all the lyrics to that one) So when Elvis broke into the music industry I was a product of my parent's generation and thought Elvis was down right horrible.  I was too young to appreciate his sex appeal and too old to think he had any talent.  

But here we are with a person who wants to honor Elvis with 2 hours of his music as we drive in the car.  On a good day The Man has trouble focusing on his driving so it we have the added distraction of Elvis tunes Heaven only knows where we might end up.  I know where I will end up, sitting in a closed banging my head on a wall.  

In answer to "The Question" I told him "NO" . . . . there's no way to play Elvis music through your phone into the car. . . .   end of problem !!!!   Good thing he doesn't understand You-tube !!!

THE SHELF

 I'll make this quick, I'm writing while The Man is in the shower.  

Amidst the many many pieces of OLD furniture that call this house their home there stands 2 old china cabinets.  The sort of which are made of wood with rounded panels of glass on each side and on the door on the front of the cabinet.  The glass would cost a small fortune to replace.  Inside these lovely antique cabinets are an assortment of beautiful antique glass ware that The Man could/should have sold to the antique dealer who was here a couple of months ago.  She admired the glassware, she told The Man it was very expensive and she said she would love to buy it from him.  He did not want to sell it to her because, "That isn't what I wanted her to look at".  She was not really interested in any of the crap that The Man wanted her to look at but she did end up taking some stuff.  As she left she told me to give her a call if The Man ever decided to sell the glassware.  

Fast forward to 2 nights ago when there was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass.  I missed this entire event because I had moved into the second bedroom to try to get some sleep. I was convinced I was dying and didn't want to die and keep The Man awake.  (I obviously was NOT dying.  Just too much caffeine before bed time.). Anyway, I never heard the crash or The Man wandering around trying to see what broke, if in fact anything had broken.  He found nothing and returned to bed.  The following morning he checked again and in the light of day found that a shelf in one of the antique cabinets had fallen and some of the glassware had slid down and broken.  (Guess the antique dealer doesn't want that glassware now!) The man was NOT the least bit upset that the glassware broke BUT he WAS upset that the shelf had fallen.  WHY ????  HAD THE SHELF FALLEN ??????  THAT is what he was upset about.  After careful consideration of the situation he had me look at it and I realized that one of the small metal tabs that fit into holes on the cabinet frame had come loose and fallen out, thus making the shelf tip and drop its contents.  This was a BIG deal and The Man was not going to rest until the tab was returned to its spot and the shelf was once again back in it's place.  

This is where it gets silly . . . 

I took the tab and tried to get it back into its hole but the tab wouldn't go in. ( I assume it never did fit properly into the hole and was just hanging by a thread, thus the shelf finally letting go?) I told this to The Man and his question was WHY ???  WHY won't the tab go back into the hole?  I explained that probably the wood had dried out and shrunk or something like that. (WHO CARES WHY? was what I was screaming in my head.) But The Man needed to know WHY this happened, as if there was an evil conspiracy to make his shelf fall or I sneak around in the middle of the night sabotaging cabinets.  (That theory actually might be plausible.) 

The next question was how do WE fix it.  Now pay attention to this please because this is the point of this whole blog.  I suggested we make the hole a little bigger. The Man wanted to know how we would do that.  I suggested getting a Phillips head screw driver, putting it in the hole and twisting it a few times.  The Man didn't like that idea.  HE thought we needed to sand down the little knob that goes into the hole.  Being the smart person that I am I said, "OK" and walked away.  Upon my return to the kitchen I found The Man sitting in his chair rubbing an emory board on the bracket tab.  (This action would be like trying to cut a 2X4 with a butter knife.)

Now I could have burst out into peals of hysterical laughter but I did not.  I just kept walking. After a few minutes The Man asked me to take the bracket and see if it now fit in the hole.  Do you want to guess what the answer to that was ????  DUH !!! Of course if didn't make a bit of difference.  You're rubbing a freaking emory board on a piece of metal !!!!  Much to his disappointment I returned the tab to him and once again walked away.  BUT WAIT !!!  The Man has another idea . . . He asked me to check in his closet for a small blue box that contained a small electric drill tyoe of tool that is used to wear down metal. 

(I must make note here that all of this is happening minutes after I have crawled out of bed.  I have not yet had anything to eat or drink and my "keep calm" medication has not yet reached my brain.  I am in NO mood to be doing any of this while The Man is sitting at the kitchen table DIRECTING )

Back to the closet search for a tool.  No little blue box anywhere in sight.  OK, The Man decides the tool MUST be in a box in the back of another closet.  NOT.  Maybe it is . . . This could have gone on all morning but I had had enough.  I walked out to the closet where he has a bag of tools.  There I found a PHILLIPS HEAD SCREW DRIVER which I took in to the cabinet, placed it in the hole in the frame, spun it around a few times and then put the freaking metal peg back into the hole.  EXACTLY as I had wanted to do an hour ago.  

What in hell is it with these men who find it necessary to make a HUGE project out of the simplest of things ????????

GRAVEL ON MY MIND

 As if I don't have enough things floating around in my head I now have added gravel to the medley. Who in their right mind is thinking about gravel at four in the morning ?????  Apparently me.

It all began several months ago when The Man decided his dirt driveway needed a new coat of gravel.  (This is apparently something one must do every couple of years if you live in the woods) I was not living up here the last time The Man had this done so the whole adventure was new to me and I was sitting front and center when the HUGE, long dump truck backed up the driveway two weeks ago.  All I needed was a bowl of popcorn and I was all set for the show.  Let me mention that there is no way in Hell that I could ever have backed that large a truck up this narrow "path" from the road to the house.  The driveway is about 300 feet long and about 10 feet wide as it winds through the woods but this guy was a pro and before we knew it he was parked by the garage fiddling with chains and latches at the back of the truck.  Once he climbed back into the cab the back of the truck began to lift and as soon as it was high enough for the gravel to start sliding down onto the ground. At this point the driver knew just how fast or slow to accelerate down the driveway so that the gravel poured out in an even stream until he reached the street and the truck was empty.  (I even took a video!). As the truck drove off into the sunset, (not really because it was only about 6 in the evening and the sun doesn't set up here until at least 10:30) I had to walk the length of the drive to check it all out.  The gravel was beautiful if you can consider dirt and rocks beautiful. The rocks are all a lovely grey and white color so it looked so clean and new. I was delighted with this new road.  The gravel was loose so it was almost like walking on sand at the beach but over the next several days we packed it down with the car each time we drove in and out of the property. By the end of the week we had a hard packed new surface that was better than any potholed mess of road that I have ever driven on. I loved it !!! (Please note the use of the PAST tense . . . lovED rather than love). 

All was well in my world but this apparently was not the case with The Man.  It seems that the Swiss Alps were a sticking point in his mind.  

When the dump truck started up at our end of the driveway by the garage it dropped a small pile of gravel before it got up enough momentum to move on down the drive. This SMALL mound of gravel was maybe 10 inches high and as wide as the truck. This mound bugged The Man for the next several days. With every trip in and out of the property The Man would mutter about the PILE of gravel at the end of the drive.  In his mind the small mound had become as large and as high as the Swill Alps. This would NOT do and he HAD to get it taken care of ASAP.  One afternoon soon after the "drop" I decided I would just take a rake and drag the stuff around to smooth it out.  Do you know how heavy dirt and rocks are?  One attempted drag of the rake and I was done with that brilliant idea.  My thought was the lump would eventually smooth out. I kept that idea to myself. The Man, on the other hand, had a plan. Because he has lived here for years he has a "fix" for smoothing out his dirt/gravel driveway.  Now most residents up here own pick up trucks on which a snow plow can be mounted on the front. Some folks have snow plows that can be mounted on the from to their tractors. Either way, almost everyone has a snow plow tucked away in their barn or garage just waiting for the many snows of the UP winters.  This snow plow is also used to drag the dirt roads in and out of most properties out in the country. Instead of plowing forward with the plow you drive backwards dragging the plow along the dirt. This smoothes out bumps and fills in holes all at the same time.  Ingenious !!!! 

  But wait . . .  we don't have a snow plow.  

Ahhhhhhh, that's not a problem for The Man. This clever fellow has come up with his own version of a road grader/plow.  Somewhere along the line The Man has figured out that an old box spring from a mattress, when pulled along in back of his tractor, acts in the same way as a plow.  Where he ever got this idea from I don't know but it explains why most homes out here in the country have a rusty old mattress spring sitting out in the tall grass somewhere on their property. 

And so The Man plan was to have our 2 neighbor boys drive their ATV over here, hook the box spring, (which is sitting out in the tall grass by the shed on the edge of the woods),  onto the back of the ATV and run it across the Alps a few times. Good plan. (I personally thought it was not necessary but who am I to think?)

Last week, before we lost our power for a day, (that blog will be coming soon), we made our bi-weekly trip to Manistique for pulmonary rehab.  When we returned we saw that "The Boys" had been here, cut the grass, weed whacked AND dragged the Alps.  They also dragged the damn box spring up and down my lovely packed down driveway.  I don't know if the driveway drag was in The Man's plan but when we got home and I saw what had been done I was upset. I kept that to myself waiting to see what The Man's reaction would be.  HE LOVED IT !!!  Granted, The Alps were gone but in their place was a large swirl of gravel spread across the driveway in front of the garage AND out into the grass leaving a large circle of dirt in the center.  (Picture a donut). The smooth, PACKED driveway was now covered in a loose mess with bare dirt spots in the middle and gravel sprayed off to the sides. Did I mention The Man thought this was GREAT ????  I am wondering if he thinks it is as awful as I think it is but he just won't admit that his idea was STUPID !!!!! ????????    I'm sure I will never know.

And so every time I walk up and down the driveway to the mail box or the trash can I must chant my new mantra . . . "Not MY driveway, Not MY driveway, Not MY driveway". 

And yet here I am in the middle of the night blogging about gravel.  I think I need a lobotomy or at the very least a good psychiatrist and some powerful drugs.