At Home With Chicken

Ahhh, World,

So happy you could attend my little soiree. Kiss Kiss.

I’m having wine. Would you care for some, or perhaps something a bit stronger? Canape?  How have you been?  How’s your mother?

Let me tell you about my day:

BigB has a tradition I like to call, “Inviting Strangers Into Our Home”.

Inevitably, he invites them to come on Saturday mornings. To be fair, he usually gives me fair warning. To be honest the information usually goes in one ear, executes a leisurely figure 8 while attempting to bypass all the other crap floating around in there, and then tumbles out the other ear,  starts walking fast, and glances back fearfully from time to time.  Pertinent information does not seem to fare well in my brain. This means that when the stranger in question arrives on Saturday morning to fix the plumbing, or clean the furnace, or sweep the chimney, I am usually still in my pajamas, bed head still intact, and not in a pleasant mood, having watched multiple episodes of  Max and Ruby long before I should even be awake (in my opinion, not littleb’s). This would be all well and good except for the fact that BigB manages to never be home when the stranger arrives, as another of his traditions is scheduling his haircuts to take place in the hour before appointed stranger arrivals. He always assures me he SHOULD be back. He never is. This is a problem for two reasons:

1.) Strangers in my home make me ill at ease unless I am drinking wine, which (thankfully) I am usually not on Saturday mornings. If BigB scheduled Strangers at 6 PM rather than 9 AM, things might go a little more smoothly.

Stranger: Hello, Ma’am, I’m here to fix the fuse box.

Me: What the fuck is a fuse box?

Stranger: Um, it’s probably right over here, I’ll just have a look, a’right?

Me: Whatever. Asshole.

Me: Well, Hi there, nice tool box, and who might you be?

Stranger: Umm, I’m Pete. I’m here to fix a fuse box?

Me: Really? I didn’t know we had a fuse box. WTF is a fuse box and why do we have one?

Me: Would you like a drink? I have beer. You look like a beer drinker. How about a beer? BigB will be here any minute.

Me: Hey that really is a nice tool box. I have one, you want to see it? It’s green. I have a hammer and two screw things. One for plus signs and one for minus signs.

Me: Did you know this house is haunted? S’true. Let me get you that beer and I’ll tell you why we have electrical problems. Could you watch him for minute? (peeling littleb off my leg).

Stranger: ummmmm

littleb: Wanna see my peanut? (pet name for penis)

2.) I do not talk “home maintenance” and this normally creates a severe language barrier.

Stranger: Hello Ma’am. I’m here to check your drainage system. BigB thinks you may need to replace your downspout elbows?

Me: (intuiting that water is involved) Right…Well, the faucet is right over there. There’s another one upstairs. My elbows are fine, though. Not sure what that’s all about. You sure he didn’t say “tennis bracelet”?

That leads me to today. Today’s appointment was with the electrician. And I was well aware of it because BigB insisted we clean the upstairs last night as the electrician would need to access some outlets there and  the upstairs resembled a volcanic episode, assuming the volcano in question was spewing laundry, outgrown clothing, wet towels, scummy tubby toys, and general debris.

Due to frantic cleaning, which prompted the Teenager Who Lives in the Basement to ask, “So what’s with this Electrician?  Is he super important or something?”, and which caused BigB to stop and scratch his head for a moment because….damn good question…Friday night was spent in a frenzy of cleaning rather than the frenzy of blogging and wine drinking I prefer.

Saturday morning arrived and the coop was ready to meet the Very Important Electrician.

But still, there was BigB’s hair to consider.

Sure enough, BigB was out maintaining his look, and the electrician was early.  And I was in the shower. Teenager Who Lives In the Basement yelled upstairs “Chicken, the ‘guy’ is here”, and I yelled back “Where is BigB?” and he yelled back “Not Here” and I yelled “#$%#%) Asshole *&^%$#”. 

So instead of the pajama and bedhead look, today I got to present the “wet hair, under-dressed, wrapped in a towel, and no makeup” look, which incredibly enhances my mid-morning surly look, don’t you agree?

Whatever. I am over it now.  I can watch TV in the living room and there is light in my closet for the first time in a year.   Party at my place tonight.  Bring your plumber.  My toilet is running and I’d just as soon deal with it over wine.

Thank you so much for coming and for the lovely hostess gift.  Click on the Chicken crossing the road before you leave and double your fun.


  11 comments for “At Home With Chicken

  1. Anonymous
    March 14, 2010 at 6:02 am

    OMG Chickie, Big J does the same thing to me. Unfreaking believable. I call it the “ring and run” …he “rings” up the service personnel and then “runs” as fast as he can…leaving me to deal with the aftermath of answering the requisite questions of where such and such is located as well as the obligatory check writing. He thinks he is a BMOC (big man on campus) because he made a flipping phone call. BTW, I love the new pictures…although I think your method of “tanning” might be a bit harsh tho Chick–so you might want to pull yourself off the spit…and have those moles checked out. 😉

    Going to cross the road now. Blog on!



  2. March 14, 2010 at 6:34 am

    CB so glad I am not the only one. There is power in numbers. Even if just for griping purposes. Know what, the VIE was not even phased by my look. Didn't even look at me once in the four hours he was here. Maybe he caught a glimpse at the very beginning and it scared his from looking again, not sure.


  3. March 14, 2010 at 12:21 pm

    All my childish games of last week are being revealed. How did you know??? How????

    I do my own electrics, which given my penchant for burning things may not be a good thing.

    My mother is alive…..sadly


  4. March 14, 2010 at 3:03 pm

    Dinners, I am obviously clairvoyant. Either that, or this is typical male behavior. My turn to say Be Careful Out There:-)


  5. March 20, 2010 at 2:29 am


    Can't add anything more clever than that since Left Brain has left me to deal with the gravel drive (read: torn up yard) fiasco and the barn renovation bill (read: “your estimate didn't include that extra stuff you are now trying to charge me for?!?!?”), but did leave me with a bottle of Chardonay (sans black fly!)


  6. March 20, 2010 at 3:38 am

    Well, my dear Right Brain, you got the better end of that bargain. As often do I. The advantage of being right brained is that left brained usually deems you incapable of any sort of interpersonal communication with the trades.


  7. March 22, 2010 at 3:00 pm

    Max & Ruby rocks! Found this site ( for Max and Ruby backpacks, Max and Ruby DVDs, Max and Ruby toys.


  8. March 22, 2010 at 11:33 pm

    Hi Abby-thanks so much for visiting. In truth, I like Max and Ruby, too, as well as barkyardigans and wonder pets. But too much of a good thing….you know how it goes. I have to make fun of it. Thank you very much for the link-a back pack might make a nice birthday present. BigB would love that, ha. Thank you for reading!


  9. December 5, 2010 at 7:48 pm

    Stopping by from the girl next door grows up contest – good luck to you!


  10. December 5, 2010 at 10:47 pm

    Hi Kimber-thanks for visiting and you too


  11. December 8, 2010 at 8:19 pm

    Oh Lordy Lordy. When we have people here I am up and ready to go all buttoned up because I want to be ready in case they attack me of course.


Your turn...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

B.I. Redux

One chicken. So many roads.

Mind the Wanderings

One chicken. So many roads.

Hamlets & Hyperspace

Sci Fi & Fantasy Book Reviews

The Phil Factor

Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Let's Its Hair Down

Delight In Your Garden

a gardener, foodie, reader and writer

Freethinkers Anonymous

It's another story.


Come for the laughs, stay for the lunacy

Patrick Tillett

One chicken. So many roads.

jenny's lark

the beauty of an ordinary life

Momentum of Joy

Spirituality, Reality, & Everything In Between

Object Relations

"A Word of Substance"


A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

One chicken. So many roads.

I'm Sick and So Are You

Observations on life with a rare disease

The Way I Sew It

One chicken. So many roads.

Cup on the Bus

One chicken. So many roads.

idioglossia: the blog

Be open, be free, a space for anything unsaid and unsayable.

Think Stew

One chicken. So many roads.

Procrastinating Donkey

One chicken. So many roads.

“Everyone who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that some spirit is manifest in the laws of the universe, one that is vastly superior to that of man.” - Albert Einstein

Trainride Of The Enigmas

One chicken. So many roads.

Genial Misanthrope

One chicken. So many roads.

The AC is On

One chicken. So many roads.

%d bloggers like this: