Not on the roof

“Porchsit”

    THE PORCH – The reason we’re not sitting on the roof right now has nothing to do with the fact that the earth is currently being bombarded by an excessive amount of radiation and gamma rays likely to mess up our ATM machines and neuter a few of us. I haven’t read anything about the Neutering Threat, but I’m sure it’s there.

    No, the recent solar storm hasn’t kept us from the roof. It’s the sporadic rain. The metal roof is slicker than eel sweat. And, yes, two or three of you didn’t get the message and are at this very moment sitting on the roof waiting for us. They’ll slide down in a minute. Just hope they miss the hedge. 

    One thing good about being on the porch is that I get to wear my houseshoes instead of my skid-proof roof shoes. Those things are a bit cumbersome. I got ‘em after I about cracked my tailbone up there a couple of years back. It was sprinkling about like now, and I was up there blowing leaves off the roof. Did I mention the eel secretion sensation? Hadn’t been for the gutter I would’ve bought the sod. I only wrote five articles about the mishap. Scared me a bit.

    It’s much safer here on the porch bench. We need a swing, is what we need. Unfortunately, the porch is too narrow and Kay would get upset at me constantly bumping the wall. The least little thing sets her off.

    Where is she right now? Oh, she’s watching one of her Cesar Millan Dog Whisperer episodes. She tapes all of ‘em. When a new one comes out she gets real excited. Runs around in circles sometimes. Weirdest thing.

    What makes it all the more weird is the fact that we don’t own a dog. I’ve only mentioned that about four dozen times. I may have to get one, though, ‘cause Kay needs to start applying her Dog Whisperer tricks on something other than me.

    Anytime I do anything the least bit annoying – Yell at the TV or try to catch Cheetos in my mouth – Kay points at me defiantly and goes, “Psst!” If I persist, she reaches over and pokes me in an area just below my ribs. Definitely not one of the body’s erogenous zones. Yeah, the girl needs something else to discipline, ‘cause this ol’ dog won’t hunt. Not really sure what that means, but I’ve heard it enough times.

    Wouldn’t it be neat if we were sitting here and it started snowing? I’d about go ape. Haven’t experienced enough snow to dread it. I think it’s absolutely beautiful. And, I’m going to tell you something, if you promise to keep it to yourself, ‘cause it’s bizarre. Promise? Okay, when I watch the news and they’re showing a place with a lot of snow, I envision myself being there and scooping up a handful of snow and eating it.

    I told you it was weird. When I see flaky ice, I want to eat it. It goes back to the time before self-defrosting freezers. Our freezer compartment always had a layer of fine, flaky ice on the sides. I’d go by when Mom wasn’t looking and scrape some off in my hand and eat it. In fact all the kids did. I think I even saw Dad do it once. I believe the family had a phosphorus deficiency. Something like that. Some element that made us eat ice. 

    What? You have got to be kidding. We’re about to go off the air? Seems like we just got here. We didn’t accomplish much, but wasn’t the moment nice? Can’t see as well from ground level, but it’s not bad on the porch.

    Tell you what, I’ll go ahead and sign off, but if any of you care to stick around a little while longer, I’ll go make us a pot of coffee. While I’m gone keep an eye out for people sliding off the roof. I can’t believe we haven’t seen any yet. – Next time.

END

To watch Brad and Mark’s review of Dumas’s Tacos click on pick below.