Seventy Degrees In February

Yesterday was an interesting aberration of a winter’s day. It hit 70 degrees Fahrenheit here in NoCo.

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1NMeErBEVB

The pleasantly strange weather was a harbinger of a pleasantly strange day.

For example, while I out and about driving yesterday, I spotted a bright white Tesla with the license plate “TIGHTIE”, a Honda FIT with the license plate “HISSY,” and a large Ford SUV with the license plate “NTTHFUZZ.”

While I lean towards form fitting boxers, I don’t wear tighty-whities, and I am not a cop, but have produced two amazing ones. However, I did throw a hissy fit at Casa Claire, or as much of one as my wife would put up with.

I don’t like surprises, unless they involve magic, aliens, ghosts or cryptids. Scantily clad women are also on a separately approved, welcome-surprise menu I keep in my vault with some very fine literature by a libertine French Nobleman named De Sade.

Well, my first surprise was introduced by a within-the-house phone call – there is a reason you should never answer them – The Creepy History Of The ‘Call Is Coming From Inside The House’ Trope | Thought Catalog – from my wife, informing me that I had to finish up my morning blogging because we had to go pick up Stella, so that Georgie could take Scarlett to her orthodontist appointment.

Okay, as that meant I was going to receive more points on my Village Inn App, and a wonderful breakfast, off I went without complaint to a meal during which Stella confirmed on video that her destiny was being an astronaut –

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1DbCgVxWRw

while doing her Nona lessons in return for her breakfast.

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/17x4Ebg5ry

Given how her character made out in WTLLM, I took the astronaut prognostication as a complete win. And the sooner Stella can write, the sooner she can take up the family trade.

That surprise worked out just fine because we were back at Casa Claire in time for the planned arrival of the American Furniture Wearhouse technician –

who was a really nice young fellow named Trey or Troy – sorry my inability to remember names is part of my inner genius – (1) Instagram – I have an eidetic memory for faces.

Anyway, T came in and quickly fixed both recliners’ “boingy” spring noises as well as replaced the power cord for the couch, in time for the Beagle Brothers’ afternoon siesta.

During T’s time repairing my furniture, Lisa had me rescue what she referred to as a “grasshopper” from her office. I believe it could be a dragon fly nymph. That ended well with the non-grasshopper living out his days on The Old Man tree out front.

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1DkriMjPQA

While I was outside saving critters, Stella spent her time outdoors equally productively.

And shortly after the furniture was seen too, I was again pleasantly surprised by the early arrival of the AIW book Lisa ordered yesterday.

Now we just need the wall art to complete the literary installation.

But when it comes to surprises, it’s always the third time that is the charm.

Now my suspicions should have been raised by Lisa’s sudden bout of cleaning on the first floor. She even had the duster out. I thought it was just so the technician wasn’t frightened by lurking dust elephants. But no, it was far more sinister.

After T left with a tip for his troubles, Lisa asked me if I had any other money to tip the delivery men.

“What delivery men?” I asked.

“The ones delivering the new barrel chairs for the living room.”

Now I just bought two perfectly wonderful barrel chairs to complete Lisa’s summer renovation of the first floor.

A Day Of Painting – The Wise Novelist

A Day Of Moving – The Wise Novelist

Feels Pretty Good – The Wise Novelist

So, I took her off-handed, recent comments that she was thinking of replacing them a few weeks back with as much seriousness as all of the times she has threatened to replace me. Complete balderdash!

My reaction when reality set in can only be compared to the analogous moment of the broken lamp scene in A Christmas Story –

At least that is how it played out in my head.

Instead, I released a harshly whispered “no fucking way,” and headed outside to vent with the cats in the Jack the Spruce Grotto, only to be surprised that some devils had already left two large boxes by the garage.

I was beaten and broken. All I could do was capitulate.

Resistance is futile.

All I could possibly hope for was a revengeful heart attack as I moved the old new chairs to the snug and bedroom in the Tower. That’s a two-time,14-stair hump with a chair on my shoulder and return trip carrying large antique wooden chairs to the first-floor guest bedroom.

Then again while humping the larger darker barrel chairs from their boxes in the driveway through the first floor to the living room.

The heart attack fantasy played out the entire time.

“It was the chairs!”

But I’d have better luck wishing on a billion-dollar lotto ticket. Lisa empathy would have made her a wonderful pharaoh at the time of the construction of the pyramids.

So, that was my interesting Thursday.

I hope my fine, five readers had an equally productive day and have now cleared Friday of any professional tasks that need completing so that your Friday is nothing but the magical day it should be. A wonderful weekend launch party.

The Super Bowl awaits.

And no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.