 - Last login: 3 hours agoTextuous
- Textuous is a 51 year old guy from Near-N-Yondered, Texas, USA.
- Likes 6 pages • 75 fans • Received 47 reviews
- Member since Mar 30, 2006
Antique Cowboy with tarnished six-shooter, rusty spurs, and swaybacked steed. Garage kept, housebroken, and mannerful. Grammatically textuous, with traces of chivalry and dance-floor etiquette. If you read the blog...the least you can do is say hello and leave a smile or sumthin'.
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HOUSEWORK
Luckily for me, I rarely have to worry about any kind of heavy duty, treehouse housework. Seems my neighbor Renee (bless her heart) is always sweepin' or moppin' or dustin' and scoldin'... and sometimes, some other guest decides to scrub the bathroom grout or rake out the mysteries from the refrigerator. Me and Dog are, after all, males, and stuff like that just seems to slip our minds on a regular basis.
This morning, however, as I walked in socks across the hardwood of the living room floor, I suddenly realized that spring has sprung, Dog is shedding his winter coat, and there hasn't been a female in the treehouse for almost three days.
"Dog", says I, "it's time us guys done some domestic maintenance". Dog looked at me to make certain I was serious, then quickly vanished into the bedroom.
I found the vacuum cleaner, and since it had the same cord as any power tool in the shop, I figured there couldn't be a lot to it...tools is tools, right? I laid out the cord across the floor, plugged her in, and spent the next fifteen minutes searching for the on/off button on the silly thing. Finally, quite by accident, as I gave the contraption a swift kick for good measure, I discovered it's toe-operated...go figure.
Vacuumin' I figured was a lot like mowing the grass...start on one side, make a straight line to the end of the plot, turn on a dime, and reverse the process. Trouble is, the yard has trees, but the living room has planters, end tables, sofas, love seats, coffee tables, hat racks, floor lamps, firewood racks, recliners, and life-size wooden Indians...not to mention several stray, slightly used socks.
Every time I stopped to move something out of the way, the damn machine would vibrate around itself in a little circle, and I'd forget which direction I was goin' in, or comin' from. And it wasn't long before the cord was completely tangled amongst the table legs, sofa arms, and cowboy feet. I learned that jerkin' on it doesn't really help, and that one lamp can generate seven wastebaskets full of glass shards, not to mention a handful of wrappings from seven Band-aids. And cussin' at Dog doesn't offer any satisfaction either...he just crawls deeper under the bed.
Oh...and did you know that socks are non-suckable, and that one tiny electric motor, when choked in a sock-lock, will smoke up an entire treehouse, causing the immediate need for evacuation by all living occupants?
Well...to make a long story short, the entire treehouse is now spotless. The kitchen sparkles, the bathroom shines, and the bed is even made with clean sheets. The last load of laundry is in the dryer, and there's a nice pot of homemade soup bubblin' on the stove.
And me and Dog...we're pert-neat exhausted...porch sittin' takes a lot out of us guys.
Thanks Renee [kiss]...you're a sweetheart.
Meyer
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