Category: humour

Posted in humor, humour

Father’s Day?

Posted on by Nuntius

So today is Father’s Day. 18th June 2017.

Big deal!

Or so the media and the big-box stores would have you believe. 
As for me, I don't consider it a BIG DEAL. I have always told 
our five children that fathers don't matter as much as mothers.
After all, who brought you into the world? Not father.
Who hugged and bonded with you first? Not father.
Who fed you first? Not father.
To whom did you run when hurt first? Likely not father.

So, despite - so some say - someone called Sonora Smart Dodd,
an American born in 1882, raised after the death of her mother by her 
father, started a Father's Day in 1910, we fathers pale in significance to 
mothers. 

Of our five children, some seem to have listened to their Father's
preaching: the middle, trying to make herself the Unfavourite, one 
texted me early this morning; the second, trying to make herself the 
Favourite emailed a card with the heading UNFather's Day; and I haven't 
heard from the other three. I am certain I will not hear from the 
eldest until tomorrow.

Nevertheless, My Beloved is making a special effort to assuage me of
self-pity by cooking me her delicious and my favourite barbecued back 
ribs, along with hash brown potatoes and peas, followed by rhubarb crumble.
Of course, there will be plenty of red wine for me to drown my sorrows in. 
And I just might have a brandy to top me off before retiring to bed 
in a state of MDD (Major Depressive Disorder).

But when tomorrow comes, I will rejoice in the knowledge that I may be the 
only father in the world who is happy he was was not celebrated by his 
progeny (save one trying hard to be the Favourite and another trying 
hard to be the Unfavourite) and is happy that three listened to their 
father. 

And next Mother's Day, we will truly celebrate their mother, My Beloved, 
the truly important one of the family.

 

Posted in humor, humour

Why don’t I post more frequently?

Posted on by Nuntius

I have ideas. I enjoy writing. I can write.
So, why don’t I write more frequently?

They say you must write about things you know. And that makes sense. So what do I know?

I know our business of Risk Management Consulting – but no ordinary, sensible lay person wants to read about that.
I know the English language.
I know German, French and some Spanish. And a smattering of Latin.
I know the foods My Beloved and I cook or eat dining out.
I know quite a lot about music, particularly classical and church.
There may be one or two other subjects about which I have good knowledge, but I can’t think of one of them at the moment.

I could write post after post on one or other of those subjects, so why don’t I?

Because, when I sit down at the computer, I get involved in something else, such as, first and foremost, reading, answering, even deleting some without reading, many of the fifty or so emails I receive every day. After all that energy has been expended, I need a coffee, so I get up and switch on the Keurig, only to find it needs more water. So, after filling it, waiting for it to get hot enough, selecting which sort of coffee I want, only then do I return to the computer and search for some food recipe I have seen on a food TV channel. Or maybe look at the weather forecast. Or look up on Google maps a town I had heard about on the news.

By then, I realise it’s time for lunch. And after lunch, I must take my nap. My Beloved likes to watch one of the food channels, which she does. But, oh no, when I awake from my nap, she is into her nap and I dare not push the footrest on the La-Z-Boy down for fear of waking her. Perfect husband I am.

It is now mid-afternoon and we have to think about either getting dinner (usually) or getting ready to go out to dinner. But, first, I must check to see if there are any more emails to read, answer or delete. And, of course, there are, so that takes more time.

By this time, somewhere in the world, and certainly in our part, the sun has gone over the yardarm, so I pour our drinks. White for her; red for me. Unless it’s a hot summer day, when it is likely a Spritzer for her; a Gin and Tonic for me.

And now it depends on who is cooking. Usually, My Beloved cooks; if we are barbecuing, it is I who cooks. Sometimes we sous chef for one another, but not generally. We like to do our own thing. But the other’s duties are to set the table and clear the dishes away after the meal. Seems to work in our house.

After dinner, we find we return to our respective La-Z-Boys to watch – or take another nap – some idiotic program on TV. What else has there been to watch over the past two years except the well-documented truly idiotic exhibition of how Americans elect their President? Well, recently, that has been (almost) usurped by the equally American sport of baseball and whether a team which hasn’t won the World Series since 1908 and a team which hasn’t won the World Series since 1948, is going to win. The one which hadn’t won since 1908 won. And everyone, it seems, was happy. Even the other team.

But, did I say World Series? The only place baseball is played is in America with some fringe players in Japan. Oh, some say that is the world. Certainly one of the candidates for Presidential election this year believes so.

Soon it becomes ten o’clock. We watch the CBC National, or part of it, and then retire to bed.

That’s why I don’t post more frequently.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in humor, humour

Air conditioning is the cause of divorces

Posted on by Nuntius

In most homes in Nova Scotia,there is no air conditioning. After all, how many days in the year does it get above freezing?

But they have heaters, maybe forced air, which could be fueled by oil, gas or electricity. Or, maybe the home may be heated by electric baseboard heaters.. And a few unfortunate homes may have only wood fired stoves.

But few indeed would have air conditioning. Anyway hot air rises and cold air sinks, so our floor vents and baseboard heaters would have to work mighty hard to get cold air up to the ceiling. Oh, if you are rich enough, you would have air conditioning, but only for status. No real Nova Scotian would admit to wanting air conditioning for the two days in the year when the temperature rises above “pleasantly bearable”.

But things are different in Palm Springs, California, where we spend our winters to get away from the ceaseless cold and damp. Yes, here the outlet for the air conditioning is in the ceiling for the reasons I said above: cold air sinks.

But My Beloved does not like air conditioning, so we wrestle at night in the bed – no, we are not experimenting 50 Shades of – but what to do with the duvet. I throw it off: she pulls it back. We get down to some nights when even she throws the duvet off, but then we are left with a sheet and a blanket. I throw the blanket off: she pulls it up around her neck. I throw the sheet off: she complains I’ve left her shoulder out in the cold. Those are the nights when My Beloved wants the doors to the patio to be open, leaving just the screen doors closed to stop those marauding insects and creepy crawlies and to let in the desert night air. Which, I admit, is frequently cool.

But for the past February and March, the day temperature has been high twenties and now in the upper thirties – Celsius. Or, in other terms, approaching triple digit, as the meteorologists here say, Fs. And that’s when the desert nights stay much warmer, I would love to have the air con on, but…. Yes, you know, don’t you? If we have the air con on, then the doors must be closed and My Beloved ends up with a stuffed up nose: if we leave the air con off, then I am throwing the remaining sheet off.

If we were not so compatible and so much in love, we would be looking for a divorce lawyer. I would venture to say that the air con manufacturers are in the marriage business selling recycled wedding gowns. Some university should award a huge grant for some professor to write a paper and a study on the marital stress caused by air conditioning in the USA and resulting divorce rate. Isn’t that what many of these university studies are? Professors getting grants to study common sense issues and proving something the communi hominum. or we average Joes, believed all along. We wouldn’t need that study in Nova Scotia for aforementioned reasons that nobody has air conditioning.

Quod erat demonstratum, the divorce rate in Nova Scotia is mightily lower than that in the USA and air con is the reason for the higher divorce rate in the USA..