Daily Archives: December 1, 2015

Just Me - AmeliaJake, The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

A vacationing scuba diver’s message

My husband knows this fellow who is a professional-class diver, as a hobby. He does salvage work sometimes and thinks it fun, but anyway, yesterday Der Bingle joined a group of people forwarding the diver’s automatic email respponse:

Please believe me when I say that under normal circumstances, your email would be important to me. However, given that I’m in an exotic tropical location spending a majority of my time underwater exploring reefs and interacting with sharks and other aquatic species, your email will remain unread until I return of my own freewill or unceremoniously dragged kicking and screaming to my cube. If you require immediate assistance, contact D***** M***** and if urgent, please do not hesitate to call and awaken D***** in the middle of the night…even on weekends…and present your questions. Unfortunatley, I will not be able to take any celluar calls during my vacation due to the fact that nitrogen or tequila narcosis may result in rambling discussions centered on the breeding and selling of champion Costa Rican Howler Monkeys…

Der Bingle prefaced the message with this comment:

J*** C**** had, and still has, style.

Just Me - AmeliaJake, Kendallville, N. Riley House, The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

Dark December 1st in Kendallville

Here in the very western part of the Eastern Time Zone we now are in the month that is a countdown to the shortest day, and, oh yes, Christmas. It is chilly outside and wet and DARK and I am sitting here listening to The Irish Tenors without having to wear earphones. I don’t know why people around me find them annoying, unless it is my predilection to play the same song over and over again until my mood moves on to another song. I particularly like The Holy City; I find it invigorating.

I need to motivate myself to walk about 5o feet and get the alcohol wipes so I can test my blood glucose. Oh, my, it seems such a daunting task. I’m surprised there isn’t an app where I can get a read out from my cell phone. Good thing I don’t have to churn butter; how did they do it in olden times? It all seems so quaint when you see it at fairs and festivals – yeah, because someone else is churning.

It is amusing to remember decades ago when I would watch my grandmother doing some chore and hop up and down, exclaiming, “Let me! Let me.”

Okay, I could use a bit more ice in my drink, so I guess I’ll do the two bird, one stone thing and go and get both ice and alcohol wipes.

A few minutes later: I did it and I added in a bathroom stop and I washed my hands really well and I stuck my finger. Now the sky is getting a wee bit light and maybe, just maybe, I will do something with all this leftover turkey. Then again, I don’t know because using the butterfly wing theory, I might initiate a major disaster across the globe. Maybe I should just sit here.