Goggle Smiting and a Battle of Wits

Middlest is a lot like me, in that she sometimes hears things funny. We were discussing her STBX over pizza the other night, and I said, “God will smite him.”

What she heard was “goggle smiting”, hence the title of this post. It called to mind all sorts of funny images; thankfully, she is quite the artist. Here is her take on goggle smiting, used with permission.



That is not a bra she is brandishing at the head of her STBX; nor is it the toes of two socks on two circs. It is a pair of goggles. Just in case you were wondering.

We had a pesky salesman show up in the office yesterday. He asked to see The Boss; said that they had spoken last week, and he hoped she would be able to see him. I called her extension, gave her his name and the company he was with, and she sighed. Deeply. And asked me very politely to please tell him that she was busy.

I gave him my best Steel Magnolia smile and explained that she was very sorry, but she would not be able to see him. He asked if he could make an appointment to see her. I gave him another smile and told him that I was sorry, but I did not keep her calendar. He asked if she kept her own calendar, and I told him that she did. I smiled again. He said that he had emailed her some information. And I smiled some more and said that that was a good thing; she would have it to look over. And I took his card and promised him that I would put it in her mailbox. And I smiled some more. [He had obviously never had to deal with a woman who has raised five kids and dealt with any number of scam artists.] And I smiled some more as I put his card up in her mailbox. And he sputtered a little and smiled nervously and left.

I emailed her: I gave him my best Loni Anderson (WKRP) impression. He said he had emailed you the information. I told him that I did not make your appointments. I smiled a lot. He went away.
The Boss: Thanks for making him go away.
Me: It was fun. And that’s why you pay me the big bucks. :)
The Boss: LOL!

Then I did a little online research. I was suddenly curious about the difference between “obdurate” and “obstinate”. Obstinate = my behavior at the reception desk yesterday; obdurate is obstinate minus a moral compass [more or less]. I spent much of the rest of the day being obby-noxious [a near cousin to abby-normal].

Another nice visit with Trainman on the ride home, interspersed with knitting [for me] and reading [for him]. Oh please, oh please, oh please, when Brother Right does show up, may he be this smart and funny and kind. Just not this young.

I got the daylilies disentangled from one another. I have never seen a mosh pit, but that is the metaphor that kept coming to mind. I got one bunch planted after a quick dash down to the kids’ house at 8:00pm to borrow a spade, because the cute little 2” trowel in my gardening kit hit that sun-baked Texas turf and recoiled like a shotgun. By the time I went inside at 9:00, I had scraped a dent in the grass about 8” across and 2” deep and plunked in the daylily and mudded it over with goo from the bag it came in and poured half a gallon of water over it and taken its name in vain, in Latin. If it and all its moshy brothers are dead before I leave for the station, I will not cry for them, Argentina.

I would show you a nearly completed sock, but I had to rip back an inch or so on the train. That’s OK; I like the pattern, and I like the yarn. I am not mad at the sock. But I think that when it is time to divide the daylilies in three years, assuming any of them survive, I might use a soupçon of dynamite.