The Board of Directors Here at Spo-Reflections sent an email thanking me for the ‘most excellent posts’ this week but added a small critique: it was high-time to write something light-hearted or they will be forced to hang me by my wrists until I cheer up. They sent along a little booklet titled “House of correction for bellicose bloggers”. The little tome is quite illustrated and there isn’t a dull page to it.
So here it goes.
This morning Urs Truly went to Home Depot. I always have a mild neurotic trepidation when going to the hardware store. I am not handy. My usual approach to something gone wrong is to hire someone who knows what he is doing or go ask Someone. Alas, Someone is miles away today, engrossed in his work, and I am home alone with much that needs doing. So it was off to Home Depot I go.
Mind, there is consolation in eye candy of big-butch types. They are a heartwarming spectacle while I look around for the items on my scavenger hunt. Compared to them I feel like I am wearing a pink neon boa with a sign around my neck, and the sign reads “Nelly!”
Walking into HD immediately evokes bewilderment as to where the heck lies my items. Most things on my list are small items, worse luck, which aren’t easily located among the mammoth rows of lumbar and paint buckets. I walked around looking bewildered and lost. I passed several employees but no one asked me if I needed help. I finally got someone to point me in the right direction to find the vacuum cleaner bags and the Dobie sponges and it wasn’t too bad.
Back at home I managed to get out the folding ladder, climb up and open the AC vents to remove and replace the filters. My worst suspicions were confirmed. The old filters were covered in grey dust and dog hair, a remarkable contrast to the clean white new ones I was trying to juggle on top of a ladder. I managed to change them all without breaking my neck.
Then came the changing of the vacuum bag. A week ago I opened the Eureka to discover the dust bag was as bloated as Trump’s ego. I found a replacement bag but it did not fit. It was for an old vacuum long discarded. I learned this the hard way by turning on the vacuum only to have dust blow out of all sides, spreading contagion in an instant.
Now I am taking a break from my industry. I have replaced the filters, the vaccuum bag, and exchanged defunct light bulbs for new ones. It may not be much it all made me feel quite butch. I may next try to fix the broken coat hanger in the closet. Soon I can go to Home Depot with my head held high, proud that I belong there. By the way, Home Depot does not sell boas, neon pink or otherwise.