My Caulked-Up Lanai

In response to popular demand (OK, one guy with questionable judgment), I am pleased to present the long-promised photos of my completed lanai ("luh-NYE," rhymes with - uh -  nothing, really).  The caulking adventure took place about 30 inches above the painting on the wall.  Here's the view looking west:

And east:

And a detail shot of the dining area:

Yes, those are little ceramic birdies on the chairs.  And a hard-to-photograph shot of Judy's neon flamingo:

The neighbors are especially fond of that last one.

And the caulking job?  Well, the roof still leaks, but only during tornadoes.

Newt

The Land of Steady But Foul Habits

If you follow this blog long enough you discover that I fritter away an inordinate amount of my life sitting outside Panera with coffee and a bagel, growing increasingly distraught at the human condition.  The human condition had its way with me again this week.

Like most states, Florida forbids smoking indoors at places of public accommodation.  Such as Panera.  But we're Republicans here, on average, so they can't stop outdoor smoking.  This morning, this perfectly reasonable-looking gent sat down at the neighboring sidewalk table and promptly fired up one of Fidel Castro's finest.  Jaysus!  The good side of this is that all the mosquitoes in Pinellas County have now departed for the Everglades where God meant them to reside.

Now it turns out, as I was packing up my bagel for a a strategic retreat, that the dude with the stogie was not quite the insensitive brute that I had silently labeled him.  If fact, when the lady on his upwind side whipped out her cell phone and launched into a diatribe about her ex's manifold inadequacies, the stogie-stoker rose in disgust and departed in a swirling blue cloud for his pickup truck, muttering obscenities.  I continued my retreat nevertheless while preparing a diatribe of my own.

The rule to take away from this interlude is that crude behavior can be loosely defined as any conduct that you yourself are not currently engaged in.  Like when you drive on the highway, and half the idiots on the road are going too fast and the other half are crawling along like snails on Valium.  I tell you, it's enough to ---

Wait, where are you going?

Newt

Stuck in the Vernacular

Hast thou ever noticed that if one writeth in the sacred language of the ancients as hast thy humble scribe in his past two missives, it quickly becometh impossible to breaketh out of the habit?  It's like a siilly tune that won't leave your head or like talking to an Englishman for a couple of hours, which leaves you tut-tutting, cheerio-ing and boiling your meat.  Blimey and forsooth!

Okay, I'm much better now.

Newt

The Last Book of Judith - The Waters Are Parted at Last

And it came to pass in the land of the trailer-dwellers that the new huffing beast fulfilled the prophesy.  But no praise was due the dissembling Lord Apria, for the Messenger who gave truth to the prophesy appeared to Judith and her Consort as in a dream and revealed that he was called "Bud" and was sent not by Apria but by its handmaiden, the vassal Praxair.

The Messenger Bud told how it came to be that Praxair was betrothed to Apria by a stock-swap merger and acquisition with protected voting rights.  Further it was revealed that Praxair had not yet learned the foul methods of Apria.  And the Consort upon hearing this news rent his clothing and prostrated himself before the Messenger and spake his regret for thinking the Messenger a sniveling bastard, for he was not.

Thus was the fair Judith delivered from evil and joy returned to her bedchamber.

And the Consort gave thanks, but further he shall not speak.

Newt

The Second Book of Judith

And a Messenger of the Lord Apria appeared at the appointed hour bearing a new huffing beast, as foretold by the Sarah the Liar.  But Judith and her faithful and long-suffering Consort did observe that the new beast bore a strong resemblance to the old vomiting beast and they raised a hue and cry to the Messenger, who thrice denied knowledge of any deceit.  But he was only the Messenger, so they did not slay him.

And verily the new huffing beast spewed waters into Judith's nose just as did the old, and the fair Judith continued to castigate her Consort and anyone else within 40 cubits, for she had not slept in peace lo these many fortnights and had become cranky and morose.

So the Consort called upon the Angel Jon the Ambiguous, to whom the Demon Sarah owed allegiance and her weekly wage, and castigated him as he had been castigated.  And the Consort, innocent of the ways of the world, was amazed to hear Jon the Ambiguous blame the Messenger.  And the Consort knew he should have slew the Messenger.

But Jon spake a new covenant, that there shall appear in thy bedroom this very night yet another huffing beast with magical powers to calm the rage in Judith's heart and part the waters in her snoot.  And the Consort was skeptical at last.  But though he scenteth the sweet vapors of bullshit once again, he relented, and - Shazam! - the new huffing beast did arrive as foretold yet again.  And the Consort taketh the opportunity to castigate the Messenger upon his wondrous return. 

But the new beast bore no common countenance with the old vomiting beasts, so he hoped that it was good. And the Consort dwelt in the house of apprehension and frustration lest the night cometh and all hope be dashed upon the jagged rocks of eternal celibacy.  And he prostrated himself in thanks before the Lord Malted Barley for the ale locked safely in his larder.

The Consort