Microsoft word - letter 12.doc

Well, Spring has definitely sprung here in Pela. When I was a kid, we never even heard of allergies much less had any. I guess we couldn’t afford those either. We heard TV commercials talk about hay fever or sniffly, runny noses (I wonder what ever happened to 4-Way Sinus Tablets or even Fletcher’s Castoria, for that matter?) but the term “allergy” was never used. Even though I’ve grown much older I don’t guess I’ve gotten any wiser because we still can’t control them. Oh, I’ve tried everything from Allegra to Zyrtec with no end in sight. So far, Kleenex has been the best control. Not so much about blowing your nose as tearing off small pieces to shove up your nose and hopefully plug up the flow. In the winter time it was okay as a kid to have a slick sleeve but not so much as a senior citizen. That’s when your family wants to send you off somewhere for repairs but since the warranty is long gone you never get to return. Nona and I had some flowering plants given to us by a precious little lady, Ms. Larchman. This lady knows more about plants than anyone: she can tell you what they are, how to plant them, where best to plant them, how to take care of them, how to prune them, etc. We began planting them with me using a hoe to dig out the dirt and Nona setting them and covering them up. Of course, when you work with a female while trying to plant flowers (or do anything for that matter) you never do it right. I never knew you could mess up digging a hole but I quickly found out that there is a specific way to do it. I decided to let her demonstrate. Now this is just one of the reasons why I’m so grateful that God made men and women differently. In such spousal adversity as mistakenly digging a hole, the male mind is typically designed to rebel, throw down the implement, yell at the woman for trying to be so bossy, and walk away. On the other hand, I think God may have left a screw or two loose in me because I’ve learned over the years to stand back, let her do her thing, and usually chuckle at her antics. In other words, play stupid and let her do the digging. While she dug, I sat in the porch swing drinking a soda and did my usual neighbor watching. Unfortunately, no one was around though I did see Randy the goat watching us from his pen. Unlike Dr. Doolittle, I don’t recall ever having been blessed with the ability to understand animals yet I had the sinking suspicion that he knows that should he ever get loose, the bulbs from these flowers were going to make an excellent meal. But then I had another thought: I hadn’t had a goat roast since college days so another excellent meal may be in the works. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to invite Mr. Beech unless we disguised the meal. Maybe I could make it taste like chicken. I know many mistakes have been made over the centuries when husbands make what are considered to be silly, often stupid, comments regarding their wife’s activities. I simply like to be what I’ve termed an “aggravant” to my wife, especially when she is having a normally great day. The planting completed, it was my turn to “get up and actually do something” so I got the water hose and began to water the plants. Now it may seem to most people that you can’t really mess up holding a water hose and directing the stream towards newly planted flowers. However, I was quickly informed (along with the usual windmilling arm gestures) that what I was doing was going to kill them. Playing dumb again in typical male fashion, I replied that I was obviously under the mistaken impression that water was supposed to be good for plants. Of course, that’s when fire shot from her eyes and burned my stomach. She ripped the hose from my hand and began explaining how a torrent would undermine the bulbs. She then demonstrated that you put your thumb over the end to produce a spray pattern that sprinkled the flowers. I tried to explain while containing my mirth how my thumb was too big to do that but all I got was another fiery glare. And then the final exclamation point was the comment, “they like to be watered this way”. I have also learned over the years that there are certain things I can say or do that turn my normally easy-going wife into a full blown conniption. So I said, “How do you know what they like unless you’re able to communicate at their level?” It took me a while to remove the mud and soaked clothing and get a shower but the good part is that the berating is finally over, at least for today.

Source: http://harvesttime.info/resources/letter+12.pdf