Tag: Señora

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5783.257

“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 has a common female habit of removing her brassiere when she comes home.  She lays this unique feminine article of apparel in various places: on the sofa; on the coffee table; the kitchen table; occasionally casually tossing them in the direction of a chair in the family room. By spells her knocker lockers actually land on the chair rather than the floor. Not infrequently she forgets that they are there, or perhaps thinks she will take them upstairs in a bit.  A bit sometimes being in a day or two.

A while back I started taking her over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders and hanging then in various places:  one of the light fixtures over either the dining room table or kitchen table; the track lighting behind the couch; one of the decorative arms of the clock in the family room; etc.

Not uncommonly her double-barreled slingshot will stay there for a day or two. Occasionally they have been there for several days. Señora suddenly discovers her booby holster and becomes quite agitated with yours truly… much to my perverted delight.  She always asks how long her keeper-of-heavenly delights has been there.   So far no one has been in our house and asked why a bra is hanging from the chandler over the dining room table, or perhaps they were polite enough to ignore it.

Am I wrong? I hope not.  It is quite entertaining.

And so it goes.

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5783.243

“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.”

We were scheduled to have a serviceman come out and look at Señor Abuelo Reloj early Friday afternoon.  Like a lot of grandfathers, he has a few aches and pains, and occasionally just stops in mid task wondering what the heck he is doing standing in the entryway of our house.

The office of the horologist called wanting to reschedule to this afternoon as he had something come up.

“Well,” I said, “I am not going to be here this afternoon and I am not sure when my wife will return home.”

“Truth is,” I went on, “she out running around with a friend of hers, and in all likelihood I will not hear from either one of them until they need  bail money. ”

“Oh really!” said the scheduler, “perhaps then we better do it next Tuesday at 1?”

“Works for me,” I confirmed.

In point of fact, Thelma and Louise were amateurs compared to the duet of Señora and La Guapa.  I am just glad neither of them drives a convertible.

And so it goes.

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5783.222

“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 was walking from the bedroom to the bathroom when I belched with much enthusiasm and expressiveness.  Growing up in a household with four brothers and a gaseous father, belching was considered an art form, a source of competition amongst us five boys.

Señora said to me, “You just burped.”

“No,” I said, “I just eructated.   I have more class than to burp.”

Her reply was not family friendly, but it definitely let me know in no uncertain terms that she was not in accordance with my well considered evaluation of my behavior.

And so it goes within the confines of our matrimonial walls.

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Celebrating 60 Years of Matrimony

Okay, this is an observation that Señora has grown quite tired of, but I still find immensely entertaining…at least until I get her chancla upside my head.

It works like this.  Señora was married 28 years her first go around.   I was technically married 22 years, but the number of years living together were somewhat less than that figure. However, the paperwork says 22. Nuff said.

If you add those two numbers, 28 and 22, you arrive at 50 years of matrimony between the two of us.

Señora and I have been a couple for 15 years, but married only the last 10 years of that period.  So much like an IRS tax form, take the number Continue reading “Celebrating 60 Years of Matrimony”

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5783.172

“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.”

It is tough being married to a Yankee.

I have what I suppose is a bad habit.  At least I have been told it is a bad habit.  I see it as a way of releasing stress.  When I get upset with other drivers for whatever reasons I have a tendency to call them a**holes.  Of course, I am in my vehicle and they are in theirs so they cannot hear me, but if Señora is in the vehicle with me it upsets her that I do this.

A while back I discovered an older Canadian sitcom, Corner Gas that I fell in love with and  binge watched every episode.  I strongly identified with one of the characters, Oscar Leroy, played by Eric Peterson.  He called everyone he was upset with jackass.  I’ve adopted this habit a bit, and use Oscar’s word in place of a**hole at times.  Señora finds it only marginally better.

Señora is not much on name calling, but she has certain Yiddish words that she applies to me when she is upset with me.  Yeah I know, hard to believe.  One such word is schmaltz, others are putz and shlemiel. She has another pejorative that I find immensely humorous, that  she uses very rarely but with great effect.  She has even used it in reference to me on occasion… pubic hair. In the scales of name calling it probably weighs in around the same as a**hole or jackass, but it has the mitigating trait of being comical.

We were driving back from Tulsa Sunday and I had used my pejoratives a couple times in reference to bad drivers.  At some point Señora, mainly to pick at me, called one of these freeway fanatics an a**hole.  I quickly informed her that she could not do that as that was my word.  “But,” said I, “let me give you a word.  You can call them meadow muffins.”

Yankees… I spent the next five minutes explaining to her what a meadow muffin was. Just in case you do not know, alternative terms might be cow piles, cow patties, dung cakes or from western literature, buffalo chips… to keep it somewhat clean.

I do not think she took my gift to heart.

And so it goes.

 

 

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Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5783.153

“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 were in Costco.  A gentleman more elderly than us passed us by with much promptitude.

I commented to Señora, “someone needs to call 911.”

When she looked at me queerly, I added, “someone stole his butt.”

The whole time she  was chastising me for my inappropriate, non-woke comment she was doing her damnedest to not burst out laughing.

The reality was that his posterior had fled to such an extent that I wondered how his britches maintained their position upon his waist without the succor of suspenders.

And so it was once upon a time in Costco.

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Señora Robinella

A friend and fellow teacher wrote this about Señora years ago.  When she rediscovered the document Señora talked about what a good friend she had been. However, due to her marriage and then her moving away Señora lost touch with her… something very rare indeed for Señora.

Click to see bigger

And so it was…

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Señora – Breakfast in Bed

Señora and I were driving back from Chicago.  We were doing something we do not normally do.  We were listening to a rock station with a couple DJs who were under the overwhelming delusion that they were funny.

I do not remember what the exact context was, but they were talking about Mother’s Day, which is tomorrow – don’t you forget your mama y’all.  They were going on with something about breakfast in bed for the family matriarch.

Señora remarked, “I don’t know about breakfast in bed, but I would take lunch in bed!”

Reckon I have my Sunday lined out for me.

And so it goes.