Don’t you just love it when you have all these self-isolation time to think? I mean, really think. You know—about all these inconsequential things as opposed to serious stuff like the coronavirus.
With all this “at home” time, it gave Hubby and I a chance to clear out our closets. When we moved into our current home, I distinctly remember giving away all our metal coat hangers. Somehow the two left in the back corner of the closet had managed to mingle and multiply from a pair to an even dozen. Who would have thought?
Hubby decided the next project would be a car-washing one. Our building was one of the few that had a car-washing area in the back corner of the parkade. I had moved the car to its designated spot so Hubby could wash and hose the soap off. My job was to move it back into our parking space for its annual wax job. This year I noted a ladder and buckets were set against the wall and as I backed the car up, carefully avoided these. But then, I missed the turn to my parking space and backed up a bit more so I could make the turn. I forgot to allow space for a wall and a fire-hose box. As I made a perfect turn into my parking space, there was the sound of a tail light smacking into a wall. All I heard was my Hubby’s sigh and comment, “Yessirree, Bob–you did it again!” I did–five years ago, but that’s another story.
Actually it was Hubby’s comment that set my thoughts galloping. How many other names were used as a means of expressing whatever emotions at that particular moment?
I could think of a few. “By George, you got it!” except the “By George” part reminded me of the best baked cookies from the Mall bakery with that name.
One of my friends would say “Jeez Marie!” a lot whenever she drove and there was a single pedestrian who would dart across on an amber light just as she was about to execute her long-awaited chance to turn right.
My Grade 4 teacher would smile when one of my classmates always put his hand up to question, “Why?” when she started the facts. Mrs. D would say to him, “That’s a good thing you’re a “Doubting Thomas” because curiosity is a good trait to have.”
While going to university, I remember briefly working weekends for an elderly couple. Whenever a customer would argue for a discount on a barely detected flaw in the garment, Mr. C would always start with, “If I could do this–Sam’s my uncle–I would. My father owns the store and he has to make a living too.” It never occurred to the customers that Mr. C was all of 80+ so his father would have to be at least 100 if he was still alive.
The garbage collectors were a rough lot when I was a kid. In the summer they often had a student working to earn their university fees for the fall. Some of the beginners were really good and quick learners. Then, there were the few who were slower and not accustomed to lugging the heavy garbage cans, then heaving the contents into the back of the truck. Being young kids, we would gather around to watch. We would see the can dropping to the ground and the garbage spilling out. I’m pretty sure the garbageman wanted to yell something saltier and suited to the moment. Instead, he yelled “Holy Je-osaphat, Kid–use the gloves and pick it up!” We would all run off repeating “Holy Je-osaphat!” all the way home. Now, I’m wondering, who the heck is “Je-osaphat”?
In fact, who are Bob, George, Marie, Je-osaphat and Thomas? Why do they rate as yell-words?
And. this is what we’re reduced to in these at-home-self-isolation moments—-idle thoughts that creates more idle thoughts—just like those darn coat hangers.