Today we were listening to the radio and a tune came on from years ago that both Matt and I recognized.  And though we recognized it, we couldn’t remember the year, the artist, or the title.  So I went into the house to find it on the internet.  That’s when I became Alice and scampered down the rabbit hole.

               The internet is quite a rabbit hole, isn’t it?  You get on there and suddenly you’re going all kinds of places you didn’t intend, but find interesting and then you’re off on an adventure of discovery that can (and often does) take you far afield.

               So I started out looking for “instrumental songs of the 70’s.”  Actually, the tune we heard was mostly instrumental but had one line in it – “let’s get it on, you got to get down.” I made the mistake of typing that, and got a host of information on Marvin Gaye’s hit “Let’s Get It On.” A good song, but not the one we had heard.

               But that took me to another YouTube site for – strangely enough – a high school choir performing the William Tell Overture. It’s the Timpanagos High School Choir, just in case you feel like looking it up yourself, and is three minutes of fun.

               So I watched that choir and the next site was a “mistake mix” of ballet dancers.  I’m not knowledgeable about ballet, and they looked quite graceful to me.  If there were mistakes, I didn’t spot them. Before I could click back to my 1970s quest, the video changed to a Jeannie Robinson clip called “Don’t go rafting without a Baptist in the boat.” If you haven’t watched this lady, she’s really funny.

               Naturally, I watched this clip all the way through. When that nine minutes was over, I noticed that the next clip was a five-year-old performing on America’s Got Talent.  But the clip after that was called “Host Loses It Over 93-year-old Raunchy Joke.” I had to watch that!  It was from a news show in Australia and was another five minutes of fun.

               For some odd reason, the next clip in line was “what happens when I put foil in chicken.”  This was a video – eight minutes of video – for a recipe that quite frankly, looked unappealing to me.  Yuck.  But I watched it. Then the internet took me to “Buddy Hackett’s Duck Joke on Johnny Carson.” I assume this was a natural progression from chicken videos to duck videos.  But I didn’t watch it.

               I didn’t watch it because I became fascinated with the 7 ½ minute video of “babies funny reactions to dads shaving their beards.” I was, at first, fascinated because I could not figure out why shaving or beards had any connection to ducks.  But then…the babies.  They’re just so cute.

               That led me to “kids react to the Sponge Bob song from a street performer.” I was glad this was only 42 seconds long, because the “kid” in question didn’t react.  At all.  He just listened.  I guess that’s a reaction.

               Then I started watching an April Fools prank played on a teacher.  It was hilarious, and only lasted two minutes. The topic of pranks took me way around the barn, to a cat vs. dog obstacle course, then to changing the floor texture that dogs walk on, and finally, to a hallway filled with water that posed a problem for a really cute Husky.  Another six minutes or so of fun.

               Are you keeping count?  So far, I’d frittered away over 40 minutes and still had no idea what that song was that we heard this morning.

               I started over, well I started to start over.  The next set of video clips were dance scenes from movies and I just had to watch those.  So after “Thriller” (from “13 going on 30”) and a flash mob based on “Mamma Mia,” I got down to business.  Without much success, I might add. 

               At last, a brainstorm!  I went to the radio station’s website and found their listing of songs they had played in the last few minutes.  I actually had to review the whole list played that morning and success was mine!  The tune was T.S.O.P. (The Sounds of Philadelphia), by the Three Degrees.  I would never have remembered that title, or artist, but good to know.  Plus, it only took about an hour to find and whoosh!  I was right back out of the rabbit hole. 

There’s a commercial on daytime television lately that kind of drives me crazy.  It’s for a kind of gutter protector that supposedly keeps leaves and debris out of gutters, so that only rain gets into them.  This sounds great, and would be great…if they worked. 

The ad represents well how these companies sell the leaf protection system.  It shows a group of older folks, mostly couples, and a leader asks how many men still use ladders to clean their gutters.  Many hands are raised, and the women-folk look upset, concerned, surprised, and occasionally irritated.  The commercial emphasizes the dangers of older folks on ladders and pretty much paints a picture that any wife who would permit this behavior (like we control men, ha!) is a terrible person. 

I have some issues with this ad.  First of all, my husband is a grown man who can make his own decisions.  If he wants to climb a rickety old ladder, fall off, and ruin Thanksgiving, not to mention taking years off my life, then my opinion will not change that.  I know this from experience.

Secondly, the pitch on both the commercial and from the actual company who sells this device really hits hard on the “caring wife wouldn’t want her husband on a ladder” idea.  I know this from experience, too.  I almost felt I needed to go to confession after this pitch.

And finally, the stinking system doesn’t work.  I know this from experience, as well!  They come out, put up the leaf-resistant screening stuff and leave (after you pay them an extraordinary amount of money).  The first rain, nothing but water comes out of the spout.  The second rain, mostly water comes out.  By the end of the first season, the gutters are plugged with sodden leaves and branches and the husband is going up the ladder, regardless of my pleas.

He does make one concession, however.  Now when he cleans the gutters, he requests that I stand at the foot of the ladder when he does the job now.  No, not to catch him or prevent a fall, just to be able to dial 911 if the ladder slips.

So, I’m pretty annoyed at the commercial and at these gutter-leaf machine companies who try to make me feel incompetent as a wife and person because I can’t stop my husband from doing something he’s done for roughly fifty years.  Because if there’s one thing I am, it’s competent. 

Or so I thought until today.  My hubby and I have played cribbage ever since we’ve been married.  The game is easy and typically we have close games, though he often wins the tournaments (cribbage boards allow you to track up to 7 games and whoever gets the 7^th win first, wins the tournament).

Today we started a new tournament and I dealt first.  We played the first game, which I won easily.  Then we played a second game, in which I led for the first half.  He came from behind with a stunning hand and beat me.  So, we are currently tied, 1 – 1.

As he was putting the cards away, my husband started to laugh.  He showed me the box and pulled out the Ace of Clubs from it.  Apparently, I’d left one card behind when I started the game!  So…maybe I’m not so competent after all?

Over the course of my life, I’ve had the privilege of working with two talented men – my father and my husband – on a variety of home repair and home remodeling projects. My dad taught me basic things such as how to paint and varnish, how to hammer a nail properly, and how to repair cracked wood with putty.  By my teens, I could repair, sand, and paint all manner of things around the house.

My husband and I have painted every room in our home at least twice, learned to put up wallpaper together, and rebuilt a spring house.  Actually, he did most of the work on that project, but I did hand him tools and materials, so I watched the whole thing take shape.

This week, it occurred to me that I’ve also learned a lot of things that help with home repair, but aren’t actually home repairs.  For example, many years ago, I realized that it’s never a good idea to “eyeball” things to determine if they are straight.

This lesson was brought home about twenty years ago, when my husband and son were placing a large Christmas tree in the stand.  One was lying on his stomach, securing the trunk to the stand and the other was halfway inserted into the tree, holding it up.  My job was to tell them when the tree was straight and could be fully secured.  I did this rather well, I thought, and the screws were tightened.  Then they pulled out from their respective positions, looked at the tree, and then looked at me like I had grown a second head.

That was primarily because the tree was at about at 60 degree angle, tipping widely to the left.  Our son even drew a picture of it to commemorate the occasion – after he wriggled back under the tree to loosen the stand.

It’s an important lesson, and one which is why some smart person invented a tool called the level.  We used the level this week when we were attempting to find and create a chalk line on our living room ceiling. We used a pole to mark the center of the ceiling, and since all lines were going to come from that mark, it was important that the pole was level.  I was looking at the pole from across the room, assuring my husband it was straight.

He wisely used the level to move it about an inch to the left, and then, it was straight.  Lesson learned.

The reason we were being careful was because it is important that our chalk line is right down the middle.  That’s the second lesson I learned this week – make sure that your chalk line tool has chalk in it.

 We pulled the little string out and I thought it was going to be difficult to see the chalk line if it was white and the ceiling is white. It took several times of rewinding the string and pulling it out for us to realize that there was no chalk in the tool.  So…off we went to the hardware store to buy blue chalk dust.  We filled the tool, shut it tightly and voila! We were able to make a perfectly visible chalk line!              

Putting a chalk line on the ceiling requires both of us to be on step ladders.  These ladders weren’t terribly tall, but did the job for us. At least, they did when placed correctly.  The third lesson I discovered is that when placing a step ladder, it’s critical to make sure the floor is flat and secure. 

The floors in our living room are 210 years old and there’s one little piece that’s about 4 inches long by one inch wide that’s just wedged in between two other pieces.  Naturally, that’s the tiny little area I placed the right front leg of my ladder. 

Having not noticed this little wood chunk, I was surprised when the ladder leg slipped down several inches, toppling me off the first step.  That poor little wood chunk wasn’t prepared to hold my weight at all!

 Lessons learned:  use a level, fill your chalk line reel with chalk, and place that ladder carefully.  Also – not a good idea to use a ladder in flip-flops.  This wasn’t a problem (this time), it’s just good advice.

My mom always said that bad “stuff” came in threes – bad news, bad experiences, bad luck – you know, “stuff.”  Sometimes weird stuff comes in threes, too.  I know this because we had a really weird day this week.   

               It started when I decided to ask my husband to go out for dinner after we mowed and gardened all day. He had been given a gift card to Outback Steakhouse over a year ago and I thought this was a good day to use it.  That way, we got a free or inexpensive, but good meal.  Now Outback isn’t a place we go routinely, but I generally like it. 

               So, being a good sport, he agreed and I snagged the card from the desk and off we went.   As we passed by our gardens, Matt remarked that two of our solar lights weren’t working and perhaps the batteries were bad. Neither of us pondered that for long. 

We went to Outback and enjoyed a great loaf of warm bread and two excellent salads.  My shrimp was tasty.  His sandwich was a bit on the skimpy side – only about a half teaspoon of the “signature sauce” (our waitperson brought more) and the butt-end of a tomato.  You know, the last slice with the little tip on the end?  We typically give that to our dog, and in fact, the part we give him is quite a bit larger than the quarter-sized “slice” on that sandwich.  But…that wasn’t the weird part.

               The first weird thing that happened was when I opened my wallet to retrieve the gift card.  Matt asked me, “So where did we get that card from?” and I told him from one of his staff persons when he retired.  As I pulled the card out, he said, “That was from Texas Roadhouse.”  I looked down at the card, and indeed, it was for Texas Roadhouse.  Thankfully, I hadn’t actually placed it in the folder to try to pay the bill with it.

               As we waited for change, having not had a free or inexpensive meal, I texted our son.  He’s been laid up lately and I asked if he wanted anything.  He asked for a sandwich from Steak-n-Shake.  We drove there next, and got in line.  After waiting about three minutes, the voice on the speaker told us it would be “about a fifteen minute wait.” Okay, we love our son, so we decided to wait.

               About five minutes later, a young man came out of the back door to tell us (really to yell at us from 30 feet away), that their “system was updating” and it would be – “hopefully” – another ten or fifteen minutes before we could order.  Apparently they cannot prepare food when their computers are down. I reasoned that they had never been instructed on the use of antique implements for documentation such as paper and pencil.  We drove away and procured food from McDonalds.  A sad substitute (though our son consumed it like manna from heaven). 

               Returning from our two-time weird dinner trip, we walked again toward our garden.  Matt suggested we look at the lights and both of us realized, simultaneously, that solar lights do not have batteries that “go bad.”  That’s when Matt said, “Did we ever turn them on?”

               We grabbed one light each, flipped the little switch and voila!  Gardens were lighted!

               Weird things do come in threes, but as Matt pointed out, at some point I do get another dinner out – this time at Texas Roadhouse.  Perhaps that was my subconscious plan all along (I’ll never tell)!