WHILE TRAVELING

The Vancouver area of Washington is garage sale central, and one of the things I did when I first arrived here was to go out garage “sailing”. (See, Saur. I told you that if I were in Florida when you held your sale you’d have made a fortune.) I couldn’t buy much since I was to fly back to Georgia in a few weeks, and you can only take so much stuff, but that doesn’t stop me from shopping.

I ran across a large box of needle-sculpted cloth dolls, some dressed and some not, and became aware that the lady selling them had made them all, called them “Space Kidets” and had written a series of children’s books in which the dolls were characters. She was now selling them at discount price (They sold for two bucks, and no one could get me to needle-sculpt those things for less than- - well, not for two bucks.) They were major league cute and well made so I bought a couple for the local granddaughters. An hour later I realized that I should have bought a bunch for my great grandchildren in Florida, so I went back, but they had sold out.

The next house had, what I would call frou-frou hammers. The lady there had taken wooden handled hammers and decorated them with lace, ribbons, paint, and assorted types of crystals. She said that men bought them for their wives on the premise that the wife would do her own repairs to keep the men from messing up their hammers. False hope, I’m afraid, but they were different and fun.

Many of the sales had craft items but others were just traditional sales of used stuff from around the house. I bought a book for a quarter that was titled “1401 MORE THINGS THAT P*SS ME OFF”. It was filled with the things one would expect, like: “when lettuce turns into a brown, semi-liquid mass in the refrigerator; being the back half of a horse costume;” and “ when someone tells your kid there is no Santa.” Talk about light reading, but it made me think about some of the things that p*ss me off.

I have discussed bastard socks in a previous post, but they rank high in my “p*ss me off” scale. I have also written about women who show “plumber’s butt” when they bend over, but earlier this week, in a very nice Tex-Mex restaurant called Chevy’s here in Vancouver, WA, (what “Chevy” has to do with Tex Mex food is beyond me) there was a young lady sitting with her back to me in the restaurant who was showing “plumber’s butt” just sitting down and waiting for her food. Talk about something that can spoil your appetite.

Some things hit the P-O scale for coots that are not as serious for whipper-snappers of forty or so. When you race your buggy (coots like to walk behind buggies even when they aren’t shopping because its easier to walk while holding on to something.) anyway, when one races the buggy clear across Wal-Mart, getting to the rest room just barely (or even not quite) on time, and some overweight doofus with curly red hair steps in front of you, with a smirk, to put down an orange cone on the floor and place a sign on the door that the restroom is closed for cleaning. I suppose it is crude to have an intense desire (or even necessity) to pee in someone’s shoe. I suspect that somewhere on HIS P-O. list is old coots who kick the cone out of the way and go into the closed restroom to do business anyway. (shocking the female custodian who is in there mopping the floor.)

We all have irritations that are unique to us, and we share some that seem to affect everyone else. On the other hand there are small pleasures that we choose to have. I was walking through the Vancouver mall this afternoon when I had to reflect on my feeling that there are almost no ugly women in the world. Big or small, short or tall, skinny or plump, women are an amazingly attractive group of critters. One elderly lady on one of these motorized scooters was putting along with such a beautiful look of purpose and dignity that I was stunned. I am amazed when so many men with beer bellies are walking along with absolutely gorgeous women, and similarly when apparent jocks are hand in hand with women that are well into the XXL sizes. It only means that we are all attracted to different things. My dear one now walks so tentatively and has so many problems since having surgery and suffering through two strokes, but she is amazingly beautiful to me, more so, I think, than when we were younger. She is sitting across the room, reading a book as I write this, and looking at her almost takes my breath away. She complains that her hair doesn’t look right, that her shoes don’t look good since one leg is somewhat swollen since the surgery, and worries about her makeup, her skin, and even her wardrobe, and she is just ---- so beautiful to me.

As long as I am talking about beauty, I have trouble imagining any good reason why so many women wear the clothes that they do. Wearing clothes that emphasize the belly button and the flesh around it, whether covered or uncovered is really somewhat sexy, but almost totally unflattering, and so many women walk as if the clothing is dictating the posture, the stance, even the random movement of breathing. With such wonderful raw material to work with, so many beautiful women seem to be determined to create pictures worthy of Elvis paintings on black velvet.

Well, I have insulted almost everyone now, I think I will quit for the day. My next post will be my final post dealing with my trip to Gatlinburg for the Gaither Family Fest, and the one following that ??????? Who knows? Maybe I will think of something else to fit my P-O. list.