I have a stack of magazines on the living room coffee table. Right where some people would keep their coffee table book about coffee tables. I don't keep the magazines there for reading material. They have already been read. I put them there about a month ago, and told Farmer H to burn them. No use clogging up our trash dumpster that the waste management people see fit to dump one or two weeks a month as they feel like it, the snow or rain in the forecast leading them to cancel at the drop of a pleated clear plastic rain hat in a little flat pouch.
Farmer H walks past those magazines several times a day. Yet they remain. So when he instructed The Pony to harvest the cardboard from around the Mansion so he could burn it, I again pointed out my magazines. "I can't burn them, Val. They won't burn."
Indeed. So sayeth the arsonist who burns a dead goat on a funeral pyre of sorts, and is partial to a phrase about rich people that goes: He has enough money to burn a wet mule. Yet magazines, made of paper, will not burn on his burn pile. Go figure. Maybe we should coat infant and toddler jammies with magazine pages, so very flame resistant are they. And when a fire breaks out in a restaurant kitchen, the grillmaster can shout, "Quick! Toss me a magazine so I can smother the flames!" Perhaps doctors' offices could donate their magazines so that helicopters can drop them on forest fires.
Yeah. That's how ridiculous Farmer H is about doing something he doesn't want to do. Of course the magazines won't burn if you drop the stack onto the fire. You have to set them up on end, or lean them over, with their pages ruffled.
Paperly-challenged nincompoop!
4 comments:
I think Farmer H needs to write a book. The title could be "101 Ways to Avoid Doing What Your Wife Asks You to Do."
What other creative and clever excuses might we find in such a book?
Sioux,
Buy whatever you have a hankerin' for when she sends you to the store, because even though you lost the list, she would rather you spend $36 on chips, cookies, and ice cream than bother her with a phone call to ask what it was she needed.
There's no need to buy a new lamp when the switch breaks. All you need is a wire to hook up to it with a little disk thing that she can roll with her thumb to turn it on and off. And if she doesn't like that, then she can leave the shade off and use the needle-nose pliers.
A crutch works perfectly well for holding up the back hatch of a GMC Yukon. Whoever tells you that the hydraulic lifts needs to be replaced is full of it.
I could go on. But my blood is starting to boil.
I knew it was officially Spring, when, after my visit with the belly-ache doctor, I arrived home to see the big mower stuck in the pond. Every year he does this. To avoid the weed whacker he cuts in too close and part of the mower goes IN the pond. We paid more for this mower than we paid for our last vehicle!!
I use magazines to go under mulch to kill the weeds. Newspapers and cardboard, too.
Kathy,
I'm sure we will bot be told, in that tone like they're explaining to a two-year-old, that mowers are MADE FOR MOWING.
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