Unusual, Funny, Interesting, and Wacky Things

Unusual Things

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

This past week has been interesting. Enough so, that I have a few photos to share, and I haven't done a picture-y blog entry in a while. To reiterate, I don't post many with faces and use initials in place of names to keep some privacy, as my blog is public.  

Photo 1: Flood

Heavy rains have elevated the Spokane River's water levels, causing flooding in areas. Wanting to show the river to G, I had this grand idea of taking Upriver Drive home earlier this week. I didn't think I had time to take her to Spokane Falls and be home in time for dinner; hence the Upriver Drive idea. Well, a few hundred feet along the road and we found it barricaded off due to flooding. We stopped to get out of the car and investigate the area before taking the detour.

In the photo above, a bench sits over what was the Centennial Trail. It floats in place, surrounded by a new tributary. (Supposedly, according to the the weather reports, the water is even receding.) We watched in awe as the mighty river, beyond the shrubbery, rushed with a force like a NASCAR race.

Photo 2: More Flooding

Continuing along Upriver Drive, the road ascended above the river. We were now looking down on it, rather than at level. I stopped the car again to appreciate the new vantage point. I spotted a sign with a fish, along with a warning underneath. I believe it reads "Warning! Sewage overflows during heavy rain/snowmelt." I giggled to myself, because there is obviously heavy rain/snow melt, therefore the sewage must be on its way downriver. Many people are hanging around on the bridges overlooking Spokane Falls and enjoying the spray from the rapids and plastering news sites and social media with their aquatic delight. Little do they know the spray contains sewage! The joke's on them! I am rather happy, now, that I thought of this alternate river expedition.

Photo 3: That Moment When Your Child Draws...

This was one of G's school assignments. It mostly speaks for itself. She drew a picture of her toys (right) spewn all over the floor and her mom (me) yelling her name. She even drew me squinting as I'm "berating" her. I'm probably scolding her to put them all away. I think teachers do these assignments on purpose to secretly discover what the parents are actually like. And yet, we have no way to defend themselves against this sort of slander!  

Photo 4: The Tiniest Car

Okay okay. First off, I was stopped when I took this photo. Fine. Almost stopped. And the kiddo wasn't in the car with me. 

This is the tiniest vehicle I've ever seen. It appeared even smaller than a Smart Car. Coincidentally, it was driving behind a semi cab which gives you a sense of its inferior size. 

This thing appeared to possess the safety equivalent of an armored golf cart. All too easily can one contrive that if this car rear-ended the semi cab, it would fold up in a cartoon-style accordion. 

I tried to imagine what the interior was like. Was this car even a two-seater? If so, I'd guess the driver and passenger ride in tandem. What good is a car without a shotgun?! Even a golf cart has a shotgun. The term "back seat driver" takes on a whole new meaning here. 

  

Photo 5: Rainbows

Last, but not least, is the photo of the rainbows. Yes, plural. Look really close. 

With heavy rains, there must be a break in the clouds at some point. Lucky for us Mr. Sunshine pushed his way through the mob of grey clouds to show us his true colors.

That concludes my unusual/funny/interesting/wacky images for this week!

Copyright 2017 by Jennifer E. Miller

Adventures in Girl Scout Cookies Sales

Adventures in Girl Scout Cookies Sales

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

It’s that time of year again. That wonderful time of the year that brings cheer and joy and smiling happy faces. That’s right; it’s GIRL SCOUT COOKIE SEASON! Customers are excited to receive their cookies and are giddy when a cute little Girl Scout explains all the yummy flavors. Everyone has their favorites. People everywhere love Girl Scout cookies. Personally, I enjoy the funny quirks about the customers.

One of the first customers we delivered to, were friends that live nearby. The wife placed the original order. We happened to have the cookies in the car and noticed their garage door open, so we stopped. He teased us that his wife placed the order, yet left him to foot the bill. G handed him a box of Trefoils and a box of Thin Mints and informed him of the total amount due. “What?! No Samoas!” he exclaimed. “I need a box of those, please.” (Notice the “need” part, rather than a want.) The customer was happy, and she got an extra sale.

G sold to a couple businesses, one of which was her doctor’s office. For her delivery, I thought ahead and took extra cookies; it always seems that people want more. The personnel who share the opposite side of the office quickly saw her carrying Girl Scout cookies. Like vultures, waiting to devour prey, they swarmed the cute little Girl Scout. Multiple hands reached in the box, removing the bits of flesh from the carcass—I mean the boxes of cookies form the cardboard case. Waiting in line were the scavengers, a pair of patients waiting to get their hands on the leftovers.

The next business for deliveries was another office building. She sold quite a few at this location. We sorted the boxes at the front of the office, going down each line on the order form. One by one, people gathered around. Sneaking up on us, we weren’t aware of their presence until we said their name and BAM! Like gulls, they snatched up boxes crooning “Mine! Mine! Mine!” The clamor attracted other individuals who wanted a bite from her cookie stock, too. More boxes disappeared.

Over the weekend she tried the door-to-door method. She pulled her red plastic wagon containing her cookie boxes. Every home who answered the door bought from her. One said her timing was impeccable because his wife was not there to tell him he couldn’t buy cookies. Next house the lady heard the wagon, which was rather noisy, coming up her driveway. She popped out of her front door, money in hand, exclaiming, “Are you here to sell me Girl Scout cookies?!” People can be quite enthusiastic about Girl Scout cookies.

Later, the same day, she participated in cookie booth sales. G and another Girl Scout set up a table in front of grocery store and entice customers to purchase. I noticed this last year, too, but it is painful for men to say no. The girls ask as they exited the store: “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?” The man would look at their neatly arranged table of cookie boxes and long to take one home. They would slow the cart, and one could see their legs aching, ready to buckle with sorrow, as he’d admit: “I’m sorry. My wife already purchase some. I’m not allowed to bring anymore home.” He would continue mumbling “sorry, so sorry,” as the grocery cart squeaked across the parking lot.

Other times, the girls approach customers about cookies and they would come to the table, listen to them talk about all the wonderful flavors, price per box, etc. etc. Even if the person didn’t seem too interested in the cookies, they saw the hard work the girls put in trying and would purchase a box. Little do they know; this is how it works. Unsuspecting customers buy a box of Thin Mints or Samoas, thinking I’ll just buy one box to show my support. Then they arrive home. They open the box by lifting the glued flap on the top. Sliding the tray out, they open the crinkling cellophane wrapper. After reaching in to grab the first cookie, they crunch into it. It’s a delicious cookie. A crazy delicious, tantalizing their taste buds, cookie. In a few short minutes, there are no more cookies for fingers to grab onto. A crisis ensues, causing the person to jump back into their vehicle and return to the store where the Girl Scouts are more than happy to sell him a case of their new favorite flavor.

Ahhhhh. Girl Scout cookie season!

St. Paddy's Day

Photo by Jennifer E. Miller

St. Paddy's Day

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

Happy St. Paddy's Day! St. Patrick's Day is my second favorite holiday after Halloween. I don't have an exact reason. I'm not Irish; or if I am I'm unaware. Simply put, I like the "fun-ness" of this holiday: parades, leprechauns, shamrocks, and pot o' gold at rainbows' ends.

Halloween has been getting a bad rap lately because it's falsely viewed as Satanic or Pagan. While it's modern secular celebration does include gory death, underworld icons, and witchcraft, it's historical significance is a precursor to All Saint's Day on November 1st. Children dress up as someone/thing other than themselves to confuse the evil spirits and keep the Saints, and other wholesome souls, from falling prey to malevolent apparitions. The costumes don't need to be scary; a princess, crayon, or animal will do. It's too bad the origins of Halloween have become lost with society's obsession with gore and death. To me, it's never been a day to worship the devil or evil; it's a day to keep it away.

Unfortunately, I've heard people dis St. Patrick's Day, too. It's an excuse for people to get drunk. Some feel forced to wear green when they don't want to (hint: then don't!). I've even heard of people say since that this day should hold no importance if one isn't Irish. The amount of negativity floating around is depressing.

Being festive on this day is enjoyable. I don't care if I'm Italian, rather than Irish; St. Patrick's Day is fun. Green isn't my color, but one day out of the year I can wear it without worrying how it tarnishes my complexion. Shamrock decor sprouts in various nooks and crannies. The leprechaun leaves chocolate coins at our house, presumable scattered from a pot o' gold. 

The pot o' gold got me thinking why my Italian self likes the Irish-dominated St. Patrick's Day. Take a look at the flags of Ireland (left) and Italy (right).

      

Public Domain, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33285604

The flags are strikingly similar. Three stripes containing the same order of colors, lest the ones on the far right. The red stripe of Italy is a primary color. Ireland surely liked the flag so much they needed to put their own spin on it. In order to make the orange for their flag, yellow must be added to the red. Gold is yellow-ish. Gold from a pot o' gold. This proves the likeness of Italians and Irish. There, that must be why I like St. Patrick's Day. It's Italian at heart. 

And not to be forgotten: St. Patrick himself was Italian.

Enough with the logic talk. We can all be a little Irish today. 

Copyright 2017 Jennifer E. Miller

       

A Parallel Universe

Photo: Pixabay. Used under Creative Commons CC0 license.

A Parallel Universe

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

The parallel universe. It exists here on Earth when we maneuver and twist vehicles into tight narrow spaces. What did you think I was talking about?

To teenagers, parallel parking is the dreaded step of the driver’s license test. Reverse, got it. Red light, green light, psssssssh! gimme somethin’ hard! Turn signal, yep. Change lanes, like a boss! Imaginary emergency vehicle, no worries, just pull to the right. Park between two cars, say what?! The testee suggests skipping that as it could put them and the evaluator in serious danger. Bad news. The testee won’t pass.

Of course, we have all been there and vow never to find a need to actually parallel park in real life. Venture in town and your passenger will point out various vacant spaces to squeeze into. Each one is too tight, too dirty, or deemed unsafe by the parallelparkaphobian driver. There isn’t a spot in sight with minimum two car lengths where the vehicle can simply be pulled forward into place. After driving around aimlessly for an undetermined amount of time, the passenger relinquishes cash from his or her wallet, and offers to pay for parking by yelling at you to find a parking lot already.

Years go by, avoiding the bumper to bumper parking situation. Until one day. One fateful day. That day the devil shows his rotten face. You drive around looking for a parking spot at a crowded outdoor venue. All the parking lots display signs with the words “lot full, you’re S.O.L.” There is nothing available unless you count the spaces approximately 8.12 miles away, by which time the said event will be over when you finally reach it on foot, dry heaving of exhaustion. Then, an unknown force steers your wheel in its direction. Your heart pounds as you arrive at…a damned spot nestled between two cars.

Easing the car next to the gaping hole in the road, you let the engine chug as you stare at it, wondering why the world has turned on you. The excitement of attending the (insert chosen event) are beginning to fade. Being this is the sole spot to park, you have no other choice but to face your fear.

To psyche yourself up, you remind yourself that if all your friends can do it, you can too! A confident voice in your head is cheering you on; it’s just parking the car. There’s not need to worry about getting sucked into a black hole into a parallel universe. Well, not that kind of parallel universe.

The decision is made. You attempt your first real parallel parking feat! Now to remember what the hell to do.

Pull car forward so back end is slightly in front of parking spot. Shift to reverse and glide vehicle backwards, turning wheel to angle into parking spot. Bounce shoulders with glee because you are living on the edge and you like it! Hit the car located in the front. Edge-living feeling shuts down. Let out a few expletives while pulling car forward again to the beginning position. Shift to park and remove self from car to inspect damage. Utter another set of expletives as you realize the car is a Porsche. Damage includes a quarter sized dent in the gilded sports car’s bumper. Nothing a rich owner can’t fix themselves. They are probably used to it. Reenter vehicle. On to parking attempt number two.

This time a collision course with another metal contraption is successfully avoided. Once the vehicle is angled properly crank wheel in the opposite direction. To a newbie, this is done after the car is brought to a halt, so the tires are heard scraping against the pavement as they swivel. Remove foot from brake and continue easing vehicle in reverse, taking caution to line up with the sidewalk. It is helpful to use the side mirror. Finally, you’ve fit yourself into the grey area of Universe de Parallel! As you commend yourself for successfully defeating your worse fear, you feel a bump from behind you. Note to self: don’t forget to press on the brake as you sing I am the Champion…of the Woooorld because it’s possible to forget there is a second parked car behind you.

More cursing ensues as you inch the vehicle forward, exit vehicle, and inspect damage to the rear car. It’s an old large farm pickup with multiple dents. The owners won’t notice another one. You, however, notice a new scratch on your bumper. Practice more French.

Mentally set mishap(s) aside, turn off engine, and examine the parking area. Within eighteen inches from curb. Check. Two to three feet between front and back cars. Mmmm….close enough. Blinking red parking meter…check. Oh wait, better insert some coins.

As the coins rattle their way down the meter paying chute, you take a step backwards with hands on hips, and admire your newly acquired skills. Shuffle a little happy dance and move along towards (insert chosen event again).

You are now an expert parallel parker. An unstoppable automotive superhero. Next time you go into a crowded parking world you take a friend, who hasn’t ridden with you before, intending to impress them with your skills. Casually tell your new friend to watch you in action. Effortlessly, you park without a hitch and brag just a tiny bit. Then, as if daunting your handiwork, your friend says, “Nice. I just look for a space large enough to pull into.”

Copyright 2017, Jennifer E. Miller

Quivers of Thought

Quivers of Thought

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

If my oven cleans itself, why isn’t my house self-cleaning?

Flocks of dove come to my backyard feeder daily. Where is my bar soap?

Exercise is a luxury. Therefore, giving up exercise for lent would be an appropriate sacrifice.

If my car does not tally mileage while in reverse, does that mean I can drive backwards and never age?

It’s possible to identify someone’s age by their check number. If the check number is 102, they are a teenager with their first checking account. A check donning the number 15,493 is an elderly person who has written checks since the beginning of banking time.

I want to know what happened to the use of the cents sign; the letter C with a vertical line down the center. It used to be readily available on keyboards and has disappeared as mysteriously as the continent of Atlantis. There’s no cents sense, in using the dollar sign to signify fifty cents. $0.50 reads as half a dollar. Half a dollar is a $0.50 fifty cent piece. Hardly anyone passes around JFK anymore. The fifty cent piece is dead just like you know who. Two quarters is fifty cents. Resurrect the cent sign please, keyboard manufactures. 

Copyrighted 2017 Jennifer E. Miller