Month: July 2024

The Real Definition of Words When Used By Women

  1. Fine – I am right. This argument is over. You need to shut up.
  2. That’s Okay – One of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. “That’s okay” means she wants to think hard and long before deciding when and how you’ll pay for your mistake.
  3. Nothing – The calm before the storm. This means “Something” and you better be on your toes. Note: Arguments that start with “Nothing” usually end with “Fine” (See #1).
  4. Five Minutes – If getting dressed, this means half an hour. (Don’t be mad about this. It’s the same definition for you when it’s your turn to do some chores around the house.)
  5. Thanks – A woman is thanking you. Do not question this or faint. Just say, “You’re welcome,” and let it go.
  6. Loud Sigh – Not actually a word but rather a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. It means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is standing here wasting her time arguing with you about “Nothing.” (See #3)
  7. Go Ahead – This is a dare, not permission. (Don’t Do It!)
  8. Don’t worry about it, I got it – The second most dangerous statement a woman can make. It means that a woman has asked a man several times to do something and is now doing it herself. (This will result in you asking at a later date, “What’s wrong?” For the woman’s response, see #3.)

Differences Between Man and Women

Names

If Mary, Susan, Claire and Barbara go out for lunch, they will call each other Mary, Susan, Claire and Barbara. If John, Brad, Tony and Daniel go out, they will affectionately refer to each other as Bruno, Scrappy, Peanut-Head and Godzilla.

Eating Out

When the bill arrives, John, Brad, Tony and Daniel will each throw in $20, even though the total is only $34.25. None of them will have any smaller bills and none will admit they want change back. When Mary, Susan, Claire and Barbara get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.

Money

A man will pay $10 for a $5 item he needs. A woman will pay $5 for a $10 item that she doesn’t need, because it’s on sale.

Bathrooms

JOKES - Differences Between Men and Woman A man has five items in his bathroom: a toothbrush, razor, shaving cream, a bar of soap, and a towel from the Motel 6. The average number of items in a woman’s bathroom is 328. The average man would not be able to identify most of them.

Arguments

Women always have the last word in an argument. Anything a man adds after that is the beginning of a new argument.

Cats

Women love cats. Men may say they love cats, but when women are not looking, will men kick cats.

Future

A woman worries about the future — until she gets a husband. A man never worries about the future — until he gets a wife.

Success

A successful man is one who makes more money than can be spent by his wife. A successful woman is one who can find that a man.

Marriage

A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn’t. A man marries a woman expecting that she won’t change, and she does.

Dressing Up

A woman will dress up when she goes shopping, empties the garbage, answers the phone, waters the plants, gets the mail and reads a book. A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.

Natural

Men wake up looking as good as when they went to bed. Women will somehow deteriorate during the night.

Children

A woman knows all about her children. She knows about their best friends, romances, secret hopes and dreams, favorite foods, fears and dental appointments. A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.

Thought for the Day

Married men should forget their mistakes. There is no need for two people to remember the same thing.

Charley’s Tale Part 4

Resuming the serial , Charley’s Tale . If missed previous episodes, check out this link.

https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/2024/06/14/charleys-tale-introduction/

That day was misery for Charley, sure everyone knew her humiliating secret. Not for the first time, she wished she had a friend to talk to, but had learned to guard herself carefully to avoid exposing herself to treacherous classmates.  Now that she had reason to be interested, she realized she’d heard girls giggling about “that time” and asking friends to “”check the back of my skirt.”  She saw Margie Smith slip quickly  into to gym teacher’s office and hurry to the bathroom and realized the reason.  She slogged miserably through the next couple of days, terrified she’d give her secret away.

During study hall that day, she projected how many days would be ruined before she was forty and decided she just wouldn’t tolerate the indignity.  Waiting till Cora went home for the evening, she emptied all the ice trays in the bathtub and lay in the tub as long as she could bear it, before washing her hair in the frosty water.  Hard cramps and a splitting headache rewarded her efforts.  She asked her father for some aspirin for the headache, avoiding mention of the cramps. Cora had apprised him of her situation, so he was prepared.

“Sure, Charley.  Can I get you a hot water bottle.? If you having cramps, that might help.  I only wish your mother could be here for you, now,” he told her.  It was so hard raising girls without a mother.  At least Cora was there for them.

Charley whirled and went to her room, mortified her father knew her humiliating secret.  “I don’t need a hot water bottle!”  Wild horses wouldn’t have dragged an admission of cramps out of her. Leaving the room in a huff, she pulled on her warmest flannel pajamas and went straight to bed with no sanitary pad, assuming she’d put a stop to her menstrual flow, thanks to Cora’s warnings.  She slept deeply and peacefully once she finally warmed up, but was appalled to awaken to blood-stained pajamas and sheets.  Charley felt betrayed by her own body and Cora.  She’d taken her warnings as a promise.  Ginny darted in her room, saw the causality and reacted with horror.  “Ginny, get out!  Now!”

“Daddy!  Cora!  Come quick!  Charley’s bleeding!”  She called out.

Charles started to rise from his paper and breakfast.  “Don’t!  I’ll go.”  Cora said.  “You’ll shame her.”  She trudged up the stairs.  “Ginny, you go on down.  I’ll help Charley.  She probably scratched the scab off a sore on her leg.  Scat!”  Ginny didn’t look convinced, but went to breakfast.

“Oh, baby, your pad musta slipped out of place.  Go get cleaned up and I’ll take care of all this.  Just run a little warm water in the face bowl and clean up with a washcloth.  You can’t take a bath now!  It’ll make you stop!”  Cora said “make you stop!” like it was the gtavest of all threats.

“No, it won’t!  I was trying to get it stoped an’ took an ice bath last night!  It didn’t stop nothing!  You was lying to me!” Charley’s mouth quivered with betrayal and hurt.  Cora, her hero and protector had let her down.

Cora was stern.  “Now, I know you hurtin’ an’ you hate all this growin’ up, but I been raisin’ you your whole life.  I ain’t never lied to you in yore life an’ I never will, but I ain’t puttin’ up with none of yore back talk.  They’s some things in life you gonna haf to put up with, like it or not.  Do you think I been livin’ this long an’ had everthing my way? I had to put up with the curse, an’ I had to put up with a man that drank and beat me till somebody cut up him in a knife fight.  I ain’t saying I missed him none, but it did leave me to raise three chillun by myself.  We ’bout starved till I got started doin’ for y’all.  Now, is you gonna git movin’ or do I haf to git yo daddy?”

“I’ll get ready.  I didn’t mean to be sassy.” Charley backed down.

“I know you ain’t meant no harm.  Just stick an extra pad in yore pocket an’ come down to breakfast.  Ginny an’ yore daddy are worried ’bout you.” Cora told her.

“Be down in a minute.”  Charley gave Cora a question city hug.  “I know you ain’t never lied to me.

image

Jody’s rooster acted just like him, except maybe for the drinking.  He was in a chronic bad mood, always looking for a fight. We could hear him coming. “ Aruuh, aruuuh, aruuuh.”  He sounded like the screeching of metal rubbing against itself.  He entertained himself by stalking around and finding someone or something to attack.  We all despised Rudy, and ran when we heard, “Aruuh, aruuh, aruuh.”   I was visiting the neighbor kids, Lainy and her mean big sister Nita, when Rudy hopped the Austin’s fence into their yard.  If Nita ever played with us, we could usually count on a mean trick, like stomping our mudpies or kicking down the walls of our playhouses.  As we sat in the grass making clover chain necklaces, Nita jumped up and ran in the house.  She latched the screen door behind her, not saying a word.  Lainy and I just kept on making our necklaces when we heard, “Aruuh, aruuh, aruuh,” right behind us. Rudy had sneaked up on us.  We tried to escape, but he jumped high on Lainy’s back, hanging onto her hair, clawing and scratching her with his big spurs.  I made it to the front porch, but Rudy hung on to Lainy, flogging and clawing.  Every time she tried to make it to the porch, Rudy clawed her again, and off she went, his beating fueling her terror.  Poor little Lainy ran round and round the house, that sneaky Nita running from window to window, door to door, laughing and enjoying the whole thing.  When Lainy’s mother realized what was going on, she raced to Lainy’s rescue. Rudy kept spurring Lainy somewhere out in the yard . Finally, Lainy’s mother caught up to her and pulled Rudy off her.  Furious as a mama bear, she whirled Rudy around smartly to snap his evil neck, slung him a few times around her head to do be sure she’d done the job right, then turned him loose to do his final chase around the yard.  Even though his head hung to one side and flopped madly as he ran in circles, it wasn’t comforting to see the depraved monster coming at us again. Jody Austin had started over to save his property when he realized Rudy had gotten in over his head, but reconsidered when he saw Rudy’s sad fate at that enraged mama’s hands.  Nita didn’t fare too well when her Mama made time to deal with her, either.

My favorite music

What is your favorite genre of music?

Folk music makes me happy.  It feels like something I could do, though I definitely can’t.  Since Andy Griffith introduced me to The Darlings, I’ve been hooked.  I loved the catchy, often nonsense lyrics, so catchy and easy to learn.  It was intended just for me.

Open this link to listen

Busy Boy

A farmer goes out and buys a new, young rooster. As soon as he brings him home, the young rooster rushes and gets busy with all 150 of the farmer’s hens. The farmer is impressed. At lunchtime, the young rooster goes at all 150 hens. The farmer is not just impressed anymore, he is worried. Next morning, not only is the rooster chasing the hens, but he is after the turkeys, ducks, and even the cow. Later, the farmer looks out into the barnyard and finds the rooster stretched out, limp as a rag, his eyes closed, dead, and vultures circling overhead. The farmer runs out, looks down at the young rooster’s limp body and says: “You deserved it, you horny devil!” The young rooster opens one eye, points up at the vultures with his wing, and says, “Shhhh!, they are about to land.”

The Rooster and the Boozers

The Austins lived just across the pasture from us.  Jody Austin “drank.”  In our neck of the woods, “drinking” meant a man was disreputable, deprived and likely beat his wife and children, probably didn’t hold a job, and likely was prone to violence.  It sounded a lot like today’s alcoholic.  Jodie qualified magnificently.  It was rumored that he had shot a man in a bar.  Folks left Jody alone.  Every Saturday night Jody hosted his “drinking” buddies for a binge. The festivities started with a huge bonfire.  As they sat around on barrels, old cars, and broken lawn chairs, they tossed their cans out in the darkness. They got louder, sometimes had a friendly fight, occasionally rolling all around the fire, finishing off with a little singing…a treat for all the neighbors.

When Jody got good and drunk, he started crowing, trying to wake his rooster!  Jody had a fine crowing voice. But roosters are territorial, determined to keep their harem to themselves.  Since roosters habitually are “early to bed and early to rise,” it usually took about four tries to get Rudy the Rooster going.  His first response was usually half-hearted and anemic.  Roo-ooh- ooh-ooh-ooh-oooooh.  He obviously needed his rest.  Jody’s buddies took a turn crowing.  Rudy was riled now and ready for a rooster fight, but couldn’t find a single rooster to whip.  The partiers thought this was high humor.  They all took turns crowing.  After a particularly authentic crow, Rudy called back “ROOH-OOH-OOH-OOH-OOOOOOH!!!”  The longer the competition went on, the madder Rudy got.  He must have hated Saturday nights and drinking…

See No Evil

muddy feetI didn’t like having syrup for breakfast on school mornings when I was a little kid since I was lazy about washing up afterwards. In class, my papers stuck to me all morning till I went out at recess. Then I usually romped around and came back in with dirt sticking to the syrupy patches. I never saw much point in washing up before meals anyway. I knew something as tiny as a germ couldn’t possibly hurt me.
Now, there were occasions I had no problem with washing, but really felt soap was overrated. I had my standards and expected to wash after contact with earthworms, snails, slimy animal carcasses, blood, axle grease, or chicken poop between my bare toes, sometimes even using soap voluntarily. I was on the fence about frogs. I wasn’t altogether sure they didn’t cause warts. Sue Lunsford played with frogs all the time and had lots of warts, so I erred on the side of caution, washing with soap after quality time with frogs. After I smelled a dog once who’d tangled with a skunk. I put that on my list, too. I figured if you could see dirt or it would rub off on people or furniture, it was good to wash. I also believed in washing loose sand off. I hated walking barefoot on gritty sand on smooth floors. I was also happy to take a bath if I’d been playing in sand. I hated the way it made the sheets feel. We threw sand and dirt at each other a lot, so I’d done the research.
Unfortunately for me, Mother didn’t share my philosophy about washing, insisting I wash my hands and arms up to my elbows with soap and water before every meal. Naturally, I fell short as often as possible, often just running my dirty hands and arms under the running water and drying on the towel by the sink. The dirty, streaked up towel ratted me out quite a few times.

Washing after meals would have been insane.

I Never Claimed to be Donna Reed!

My daughter zoned in on the Donna Reed Show when I started falling short in the motherhood department.  In case you don’t remember, Donna Reed was the perfect wife and mother, always prissing around in cinch-waist dresses with petticoats, high heels and jewelry.  She played bridge, called her friends Mrs. So and So, and kept an immaculate house.  If Donna had slipped in the mud, she’d have fallen daintily and ended up with a charming smudge on her cheek, whereas, I’d have busted my butt, ripped my britches, and farted.  No one would have been able to help me for laughing.  I could have fallen in a rose bed, and come out smelling like manure.

When Donna’s children lapsed into naughtiness, she’d rein them in with an understanding, quizzical smile, knowing they’d fall at her feet and confess because she was such a good mother. They only got in cute scrapes, like maybe accepting two dates for the prom or losing a library book, never anything involving calls from the school counselor or requests for bail. The queen of her home, effortless meals appeared on her dining table out of the air, no budgeting, shopping, or messy kitchen to consider.  Naturally, her handsome husband adored her.  Even though he was a doctor, it was clear he’d married “up.”

Donna never lost her cool when her children announced they needed a million dollars for a school trip as she dropped them off for school.  I have been known to be annoyed.  Should Donna’s kids want to eat what she’d cooked, she’d coax them along in the name of nutrition. If my kids didn’t want to eat what I’d put on the table, I told them, “Fine, that leaves more for the rest. It won’t be that long till breakfast.”  Donna was vigilant about nutrition, whereas,  I figure kids eat if they get hungry.

I can lay so many of my motherly shortcomings at Donna’s door, but thank goodness, she’s gone and I’m still bumbling along.

Get rid of ants

I’ve never posted a household hint but this might help you. To get rid of ants, scatter cucumber peels about. Ants HATE them. They’ll be gone in no time. I didn’t believe it till I tried it. I know it sounds crazy but it works!