Tag: Señora

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.045

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

I, more than likely, over did it a wee bit yesterday.  Besides being tired, my back was barking at me excessively.  Before Señora had left the house for her choir practice at around 1815 hours, I had taken a muscle relaxer. An hour or so later my back was still being less than polite, so I took another Flexeral.

I am chalking it up to a combination of being tried and the medications, but I went to bed earlier than usual, somewhere between 2000 and 2100 hours.  I was asleep when my prodigal wife made her way back to the hacienda.  When she found me asleep in the bed, she awaken me, gently to be sure, but still she woke me up. Indubitably, you will understand why I found this a wee bit irritating. I don’t remember how I responded, but in my best Clark Kent manner, I am sure.  I then rolled over and went back to sleep.

As this was not the first time, she has waken me in these circumstances, this morning I started ruminating as to why.  Generally, when I find her asleep, I simply back out of the room so as to not disturb her.  Or if it is late, slip into the bed as lightly as I can.

Then it dawned on me her reason, so I went searching for her, finding her on the couch,  I explained to her that I did not quite understand why she woke me up.  I then asked if she had some trepidation that I might be dead in the bed. She confessed that it was.  I suppose it would be minorly horrible to go to bed, only to find a cold, dead corpse headed toward rigor mortis laying next to you the following morning.  But sometimes a gal just needs her beauty sleep.

And that is how it goes sometimes in La casa de los viejos.

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Rev. Joe’s Random Thought #1,255

yeah I know you did not ask!

You should so be blessed – well cursed at times actually – with a mind such as mine, making all these weird connections between my rumored neurons. Just be thankful that I do not share all of my random thoughts.

I wonder if I am the only one to whom the Terminator movies are looking more and more prescient?

I always have just thought of them a sub-genre of science-fiction that loves dystopian stories.  But it is increasing looking like we have the proverbial striped feline by the tail. IMHO, Science and Technology need to be asking should I rather than can I,  but that is an ages old question.  Just ask Dr. Frankenstein.

Random aside:  Our home Wi-Fi network is named SkyeNet.  There two reasons for this.  The first is obvious.  A reference back to the nefarious SkyNet of the Terminator movies. Since neighbors can see the name of Wi-Fi connections close to them, I wonder if it has any of them stuffing  a doomsday pack.

The second is an inside reference.  When Señora divorced she wanted her last name changed back to her maiden name and for various reasons her middle name changed to Skye. Her lawyer was less than competent, and besides costing her a dump truck load of money to her ex, he failed to change her middle name.  He did remember to get her last name changed. She is using Skye anyway except when legality necessitates otherwise.

And so it goes.

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.038

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

I am looking at Señora with great affection and tenderness in my heart, and I say to her, “You are so beautiful.”

To which she replies, “You need to put your glasses on.”

“I have them on.”

“Then you need to clean them, Caballero.”

“You know I clean my glasses several times a day.”

She won’t let it go and asks me, “when was the last time you saw the ophthalmologist?”

“My prescription is recent,” I reminded her.

“Well it is dark in here,” she went on.

“No, it is not, it is mid morning and sunny outside.”

“Obviously,” she remarked, still not letting it go, “you’ve been drinking.”

“Whenever have you known me to drink in the morning.”

“Well something is off kilter.”

Then I uttered the words, “You are right! Here is a paper bag, I think you know what to do with it.”

Pray for me, the doctors tell me I will not be in here too long…

And so it goes.

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Quote of the Day – Jack Handey… for Señora**

“As we were driving, we saw a sign that said, ‘Watch for Rocks.’  Martha said it should read ‘Watch for Pretty Rocks.’  I told her she should write in her suggestion to the highway department, but she started saying it was a joke – just to get out of writing a simple letter!  And I thought I was lazy!” ~~Jack Handey

** Señora has an absolute obsession with rocks

++ One of my ex-brother-in-laws had a game he played when his children were very young and just learning to read.  He had them convinced that the signs that read “Watch for Falling Rocks” was about a crazed Native American that had escaped a mental institution… him and his half brother Leaping Deer.

To see more Quotes for Day, visit this link: Quotes for the Day

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Dogs and Cats – A Deep Philosophical Question  

Heaven forbid I should ever be single again.  I sincerely hope with all my being that Señora outlives me, if for no other reason than she is much more enchanted with this existence than I am.  If she did not, I am not sure I would put myself back out there in the dating pool, especially at my decrepit age.  The thought reminds me of something my mother once said after my father had passed away.  Someone asked her if she was going to remarry.

“Oh no,” she replied, “it is one thing to grow old with a man; it would be quite another thing to marry an old man.”

I Learned About Red Flags

I once broke up with a very beautiful woman and judging from our time together, a very sweet lady.  At he beginning of our relationship she told me her goal Continue reading “Dogs and Cats – A Deep Philosophical Question  “

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.024

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

Señora and I had gone to bed. We were both engaged in canine behavior, that is, we were imitating Princess Lily’s bed time preparation routine.  While we were not circling our respective sides of the bed three times, we each were fluffing pillows, rearranging blankets, flouncing around as we attempted to find that ever so perfect spot for falling asleep.

In simpler words, we were trying to get comfortable, and thus were moving around quite a bit.  There was an almost spooky, creaking sound that was occurring sporadically but frequently.

Señora says to me, “Is that the bed or one of us?”

I still am hoping it was the bed.

And so it goes.

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.023

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

I am a little worried about Señora.

Let me set the stage.  We have an Internet connected Smart Thermostat. It has a sensor downstairs and a sensor upstairs.  Remembering that hot air raises and cold air falls, playing with the opening and closing of vents on the various levels of our abode, I can keep the temperature more or less even on all floors.  The thermostat functionality  is based on averaging the temperature at the sensors together.

As a balance between comfort and pocketbook, we kept the thermostat at 70 this time of year.   With the averaging of the sensors bouncing around a bit, it reads 70 part of the time  and 69 the rest.

Señora has a Feliz cumpleaños coming up shortly.  I always think of this time of year as a triple witching hour as her birthday, Valentine’s Day and the anniversary of our meeting all happen with five days of each other.  I make Hallmark’s budget balance in that short period of time.

Unlike yours truly, Señora is not horrified by birthdays.  This year is different, however. She is having a hard time dealing with the number.  Every time she walks past the thermostat and it reads 69 she goes a little batty.  She is convinced that this piece of smart, Internet connected technology is mocking her.  I am hoping there is not a whole year of this.

But then again for the rest of the year we keep the thermostat at 72.  Guess who is hitting this wonderful number this year.  I am sure this maldito contraption will be mocking me too.

And so it goes.

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.022

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

Señora with her eyebrows arched, thankfully not peering at me over the top of her glasses like my Mama used to do, said to me, “You know I have grounds for an annulment, don’t you?”

Being skilled at repartee, I replied, “Oh?”

“Yes,” she went on, “you did not disclose an important fact to me.”

Again with the adept repartee I answered, “Oh?”

“You did not tell me you were an alien, that you were from another planet.”

“Really,” I countered, “I thought you would have figured that out before we were married when I taught you the ear tugging trick.”

And so it goes.

Okay like a lot of my stories there is a grain of reality in there, and just a wee bit of literary license.  I did something or the other, very innocent I am sure, that caused  Señora to accuse me of being an extraterrestrial.

If you did not get the ear tugging reference, follow this link to Bad Jokes and read the one entitled The Martians.  It’s and oldie, but goodie.

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.004

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

I am reasonably sure I know the answer to the question.

The question: Is it harder for an OCD person to live with non-OCD person, or vice versa?

Señora has had two major surgeries on her back. This has put limitations on what she can and cannot do. It is just part of our reality as the two of us age.

One thing she finds difficult is loading items into the bottom rack of the dishwasher.  As much as possible I try to take on this household chore.  I have explained to her multiple times that I do not mind loading and unloading the machine.  I really don’t mind doing the dishes manually as it is one of those household tasks that you can step back from when done and feel a sense of completion. However, like many household chores as soon as you turn around and say Beetlejuice three times, it needs to be done again.

My mother’s attitude growing up was that she had five sons and a husband to feed; she was not going to also wash dishes for that crew.  In my first bout of matrimonial fever, once the kids reached a certain age, we all took turns washing dishes, marking our turn on the calendar.  The goal was to have everyone with the same number of turns at the end of month. As a teenager, I washed dishes “professionally” at a few different restaurants.   After all that, I would just as soon load the dishwasher.

I started out talking about OCD.  When I load the dishwasher I do it a certain way.  I try to group spoons with spoons, knives with knives, dinner plates with dinner plates, etc.  I do this as it requires less sorting when I am unloading the dishwasher, simplifying and speeding up the operation.

Since Señora only partially listens to me, being a founding mother of the Idle Hands School, she will frequently just hand wash the dishes. She will also occasionally add items to the dishwasher. I was cleaning up after some meal, and I had gone through the exercise of reordering the dirty dishes in the dishwasher after her additions earlier in the day.  Since Señora was in the kitchen with me, I thought I would explain my system to her.

After I had completed my little spiel on the OCD way of loading the machine, she looked at me with arched eyebrows – thankfully she did not peer at me over her glasses ala my mother – and said, “Good luck with that Melvin Udall.”

Yup, I am reasonably sure I know the answer.

And so it goes.

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