Textually-speaking about sofas and lobsters

A few years ago, DG wanted to build a sofa for our living room because our old one (which wasn't all that old, really) became irreparable. He was looking for a specific type of sofa to copy. You know which kind- from the 1970s- heavy wood construction, bare wood arms and frame, with three cushions with the most god-awful, ugly 1970s style upholstery ever. To do this, he needed me to find a photo of one for him.

I am pretty experienced in Google-fu. I can find almost anything and do so quite quickly. I was so good at Googling things that my dad used to call me and ask me to search for something because it was quicker than him trying to do it himself. But no matter what kind of keywords I put in, I could not find that specific style of sofa. I finally asked in the general discussion area of a message board I used to frequent called "Bonesmart". It was a place for folks with joint replacements and I was one of the youngest people there. And guess what... someone had a photo. Not just a photo, they had the actual wooden frame (without cushions!) in their garage and they literally took a photo for him.

And he built the sofa, which is what we were talking about in this text conversation. I told him that "Raising Arizona" was on and I realized that Nic Cage's character had the entire living room set of that furniture. All those weeks I spent searching the internet for a goddamn photo and it was right there in a DVD that we owned and could have taken a photo of on the TV. So, I've told you all this solely to explain that DG's "I know" is in reply to me telling him that "Raising Arizona" was made by the Coen Brothers, who also made "O, Brother, Where Art Thou?" (a movie that not only he likes, but his father likes too).

So, we went from a discussion about sofas to lobsters, literally like this:



And the "Huge lobster"? Here's that very photo he sent to me.



That is definitely a huge lobster!

Textually-speaking version 2014

So, as you can see... the Disabled Guy is gone again. I won't bore you with the details, because like I just said- BORING.

I was sitting in the living room, as one does when one is trying to watch a movie, and  I was being smothered under Luna and Gregg, as one has happen when one sits down in my house. I snapped a photo with my phone and sent it to DG with the caption:

"I have a slight problem." 

He replied with a non-committal "Okay."

Then I sent this photo.

"Well... then this happened." 

And here is a screen cap of what happened in our conversation next. I'm in blue, he's in yellow- in case you were not familiar with android smartphones.  (for those who don't know, I recently got a smartphone for the first time. My kids have had their own for years, but this is my first real smartphone- Samsung Galaxy Metrix, in case you were wondering). 

*Click to see larger* 

Ahh... good comeback, Disabled Guy... very good comeback! (and he could do it too, you all know it!). 

Sophisticated Mice...

So, I've been wearing out the new album by Steam Powered Giraffe that came out a couple weeks ago. I made DG listen to the "Fancy Shoes" (amateur video from a concert last month) song where this line happens: "Let me tell you a story to clarify the matter: once upon a time, a mouse put on some shoes..." (it happens about 2 minutes 40 seconds into that video) ***EDITED JUNE 6, 2014*** Steam Powered Giraffe released a video for "Fancy Shoes"

This morning, he was walking to the kitchen (6 AM, he just got up) and that song was playing on my computer (you can wear out a digital album, right? I have the actual CD just in case). I said: "Oh, he doesn't even know..."

DG: "Know what?"

I backed the song up and replayed that line and said: "How often does that happen? Apparently every time I listen to this song."

DG: "Oh, he doesn't even know. They got four feet. They gotta put shoes on twice every day."

He went into the kitchen and came back out and said: "Unless its a sophisticated mouse. Then he walks on two legs and he only needs one pair of shoes."

After I typed all that, I asked: "If a mouse puts on two pairs of shoes, how does he tie the shoes on his little mouse hands?"

He narrowed his eyes, deep in thought and said in monotone: "Velcro."

After a short pause he added: "Slip-ons. The possibilities are endless."

Me: "Not really. I think those possibilities end there."

DG (still in monotone): "You're probably right."

**For your reading pleasure- "Rats, with their little Nike Shoes"**

The Treasure Chest...

I haven't kept up my posting very well in the last six weeks. But- I have the best and worst excuse for it. My father passed away suddenly about a week after my previous post. The last thing on my mind was keeping track of the Disabled Guy's words. I did write a fibro blog post about it (here's the link if you want to read it), but let's move quickly onto something better.

The Disabled Guy finished the treasure chest for my sea captains. He went right to work on it shortly after we had the design conversation. And his way of coping when Dad died was to dive into his work. Along with all the stressful stuff that comes along with the death of a family member (especially one we were so close to), DG dragged me out to the Home Depot every time he had to pick up something for the box. It was his way of "helping" me. He doesn't react properly to emotional situations and he did his best to stay out of my way.

Anyway, here are the details and the photos, because I know that's what you want to see. And in case anyone has forgotten- the Disabled Guy is paralyzed on his right side. He has no use of his right hand and he walks with a limp. He can move his right arm, but it isn't much use to him with his completely useless hand. He uses clamps to hold things and sometimes on larger items, he'll ask a human for help (that human is usually me, sometimes our son, depending on the weight of the thing he needs help with). But as human assistance, we're basically glorified clamps.

Some details- the box is made of pine and is lightweight, but very solid. I can lift it easily (and today- the day I took the photos- I'm in a pain flareup and it was still easy to lift). The handles are for lifting garage doors (we talked to someone at Home Depot who makes/installs garage doors) so they're very strong. The hinges aren't as decorative as DG wanted (those were too big to fit on the box). The latch was pure luck- we spotted it as we were leaving the aisle with the hinges. All the hardware is from the Home Depot and not a craft store, so it is good and strong as well as decorative.

The Disabled Guy prefers just a handshake...

So, most of you all know that I do the renaissance faire thing. I dress in garb and
  I also happen to take a lot of photos while I'm there.

A group of friends- who I refer to collectively as "My Sea Captains"- play a game called Spanish Towers. It is also known as "Sword Point Towers" and "Giant Jenga"... originally, they played with a set of blocks that came in a nice little box with terribly sharp handles and they'd just drag that around from location to location. I'm not entirely sure what prompted the change (something about swords, stabbings, splinters)- but now they have different blocks and no box to cart them around in and it is a little bit of a pain in the ass. That's a lot of blocks and they're not very big blocks, so the odds of losing one or two is pretty good.

Here are a few photos of My Sea Captains and the game of Spanish Towers-








You get the idea...

Well, at the most recent Gathering of Rogues and Ruffians, I suggested to my sea captains that I'd ask the Disabled Guy if he could/would make a box for them to tote their blocks around in. And of course, he said he would.

Today, the Disabled Guy started "wondering" about the box he was going to create (and he's got like, six months as they technically don't need it till Janesville Renaissance Faire).  He was asking me dimensions (it happens to be written down- the measurements) and I thought he was confused by how big it had to be. The tower measures 32 inches by 10.5 by 10.5. So, I kept re-explaining it to him.

When you translate English into Stroke English, sometimes it takes a few different tries to get to one the Stroke person can understand. But he finally got it across to me- he was asking if the box had to be a perfectly-shaped rectangle.

DG: "This box... what if I made it look like a treasure chest? You know, with the top [hand gesture] that isn't flat? Rounded on top?"  and he kept making a slightly round-on-top gesture with his hand.

Me: "They would probably love that. They would love it a lot. You know, if you did that, the sea captains would woo you. They would woo you so hard!"

DG: "What does that mean?"

Me: "Woo, you know, like romantically... I have a video where the captains are teaching Andrew how to woo a lady."

DG: "Who is Andrew?"

Me: "That's Anne-Drew. A girl named Kait plays Anne-Drew, Frobisher's ship's boy..."

I could see I was starting to lose him- too many names, too much detail- so I said: "I have a video. C'mere... this is where the sea captains teach Anne-Drew how to woo a lady."


After he saw the video, he chuckled. "Woo a lady... tell 'em a handshake is just fine. They can woo someone else."

For the record, I sent a text to Captain Hawkyns with a very shortened version of that conversation and his reply to the treasure chest was: "Yup, we'd like that a bit."

Unfortunately for Anne-Drew, that means there probably won't be wheels on one end for ease of dragging. But at least it'll look cool, right? And he said he'd make sure the handles don't cut into fingers- he hates hat too.

Oh, and just in case anyone forgot about his box-making skills...

Cracker BARREL!

The Disabled Guy has this really annoying habit. Our son once went on a long road trip with him and said he did it every single time they passed a sign. So said Jason: "Do you know how many Cracker Barrels there are between here and North Carolina?"

I'm not positive, but I'd say a lot.

I get treated to this little symphony every time we go... well, anywhere. There's a Cracker Barrel restaurant in the next town. Today, I begged DG to go with me to Madison so I could take a photo of a billboard that two of my photos are on. (those are links, you can click them, we'll wait)... Along the way, we passed a few signs for Cracker Barrel. So, I got to hear the Cracker Barrel Symphony. A lot.

After the fourth time, I said something like: "At least you don't say it when you're alone."

I was met with dead silence. I looked over at him. He had a small, smirk-y smile.

"Oh, God. You say it even when you're alone."

DG: "No... [stifles a snicker]... I don't."

Me: "You do. You actually shout out 'Cracker BARREL' when you're driving some place alone."

DG: "I do not." And then he couldn't stifle his laughter.

Yes. He does. He shouts "Cracker BARREL!" when he's alone in the truck.

And now to give you a taste of it, enjoy this short video of me trying to get him to say it so I could record it and move along in my blog-writing. Enjoy the view of part of the Wall of Awesome.




Also worth noting, while on this trip to and from Madison, he sang along to this song- sang every single word.

Long time, no updates part forty-seven-fifty-two...

I just made that number up. I have no idea how many times I've taken this long of a break. There have been some small updates, in the Facebook group- but other than that, not many long conversations. At least, nothing I'd consider long enough for a blog post.

But that brings us to today.

We have dogs. You all know that. We have a lot of dogs. Five Chihuahuas and a German Shepherd. So, technically, we have three dogs, tops. And, in order of them joining our family, we have: Gypsy (German Shepherd), Luna (Taco Bell Chi), Jasper (Teacup chi), Bruno (result of Luna and Jasper), Gregg (The girl dog with a boy name) and Beefy (the chi who went to someone else and then had to come back).

I put a lot of thought into their names- except Gregg and Beefy. I had no hand in naming them. Beefy's name was Tempest for a bit, but Beefy is the name that stuck. And I'd rather call her Houdini, because she's an escape artist.

But I digress.

Today, while we were eating dinner, The Disabled Guy motioned to Jasper and Luna, sleeping on the floor, near him. "You better watch it, I'll sic my beasts on you."

Me: "Beasts? Really?  Beasts?"

He nodded toward Gregg, who was burrowed under the blankets on the sofa. "I got one over here, too. I call her The Sleeper."

Me: "The Sleeper?"

DG: "Yeah. And that's The Mouth."

I pointed out another: "What about that one?"

DG: "That one? That's the Bouncer."  I pointed at another and he said: "That's the Squiggler." And the last one: "That's the Instigator."

So, I now introduce you to the apparent Canine Mafia that lives in our house.


Gregg, aka: The Sleeper.



Jasper, aka: The Mouth.



Bruno, aka: The Bouncer.



Luna, aka: The Squiggler.



Beefy Houdini, aka: The Instigator.



And last, but not least, Gypsy, aka: The Ears.




EDITED TO ADD:

DG just said: "Gypsy is the Boss. She tells everyone what to do. And Jasper, The Mouth, he always gets into arguments. You know that's true. Never shuts up."

Me: "What about The Bouncer? What's he do? And The Squiggler, what's her thing? The Sleeper?"

After a pause he relied: "I don't know, but when you wake up with a horse's head in bed, you'll know the Mafia was there."