Bisque is the color of your angst

Would you like to know what irritates me? (Everyone heads to the storage facility, where they store their tome of “Things That Irk June.”)

Symbolism.

I know that makes me sound unintelligent and I’m fine with that. I also find it irritating the things we consider signs of intelligence.

But really. Just tell me a good story. I don’t need to find out after that I was supposed to be noticing that the color blue represented your ennui. Shut up, blue man.

Anyway.

Oh, but I do have good news! You’ll be stunned to hear it’s pet-related, seeing as I hang around no one else unless you count getting ice for my neighbors “hanging around.” There’s no ice at their house. I think they have, like, a mini fridge and that’s it? I think? They told me but I forget.

So, I mean, it doesn’t kill me to provide ice, although some days I put a sign on the door: Don’t knock till after 6. I mean, nothing’s more irritating (except for everything) than being interrupted in your workday to get ice for someone who is not family.

I want to ask them, would you leave our neighborhood and head to my work and walk to my desk to ask for ice? Because that’s what you’re doing right now when you interrupt my workday. But I never say that. Instead I just low-grade-irk-edly get ice. But I have to stop giving away my really good freezer bags. They’re the kind with that slide-y thing at the top. I guess all freezer bags have the slide-y thing at the top. Not to mention mine are just Food Lion brand. Maybe I need to get off my freezer bag high horse.

Oh my god, my good news. OK. So, as you know from your Big Book of June Events, Edsel is now on TWO medications for his arthritis. When they determined it’s not his heart making him fall over when we play but his bad hips, which don’t lie—and I really need to get over that song—they signed him up for a second medication on top of his Galliprant.

That sounds like some sort of name a cowboy would use affectionately for his saloon prossie. Hey, there, m’little galliprant. What say you dribble off those Bobbie Brooks pantaloons so I can do what I please.

I had to go to CVS, which thankfully has a drive-thru so I can wear my HAZMAT suit and stay in the car. “Yes,” I said, when I got to the window. “Prescription for Gardens? 7/16/65?”

God, I’m old.

“Hmmmm. We don’t seem to have anything for you.”

“…Oh! Edsel! Edsel Gardens!”

“…Date of birth: 7/18/10?”

“I mean, that’s not his actual birthday. His birthday is July 1. But you still have him as a Cancer so I can live with that.”

No one thinks I’m normal.

Why did my vet pick 7/18? First of all, that’s my wedding anniversary. Secondly, I very clearly, on Eds’s chart, put July 1. Also too, I have no idea what his birthday is. I mean, when I got him

he was very clearly three months old, and that was October 2, 2010. So I just assumed his birthday was around July 1th. I just said July 1th because my hilarity knows no bounds. I just wouldn’t put him at July 18rd.

Oh my god, the good news.

So he’s been taking both medicines now and this morning he headed out to use the facilities, and by “the facilities” I mean “the grass,” which by the way, Milhous now pees in the grass. I think he just watched Edsel and said, “Dat look conveeen yint” and squatted. I cannot complain about this turn of events.

Oh my god, the good news.

“What do you like to do in the morning?”

“I read this one blog where a woman with ADD tries to tell one single thing. It’s usually around 1,000 words.”

WHEN HE SQUATTED he could, you know, squat! For agess now, he does this tentative sort of half squat. I’ve never mentioned it, but sometimes I hold his hips for him a bit so he can concentrate on going and not squatting. Ask his hips: They don’t lie. But today it was full-on copping a squat. What does that phrase mean?

So that’s my good news.

Also, the following happens.

I’ll do something, like, let’s say I’ll paint my porch ceiling haint blue. Then I’ll go on (Face)Book of June and show it. Or I’ll show it here. Or I’ll show it on Instagram. Whatever. The thing is, not everyone is on all my channels, The June Channel, so inevitably someone will say, just to throw a scenario out there, “Didn’t you paint your porch, JOOOOOON? We want to see it, JOOOOOOON.” and I’ll be all, Didn’t I show that 60-hundred times already?

So let me get up, in my sexy robe, and take a photo of my porch ceiling once and for all. Hang on.

…Oh my gaaaad, when I just got up you know what was truthful with me? My hips. They didn’t lie. I had my trainer last night. She made me do this godawful thing where you’re on your knees, m’little galliprant, and you put one leg forward like you’re about to propose, and why is that the official proposal position? If anyone proposes to me ever again I want them to squat like Edsel and propose from there.

Anyway I was in the proposal position and then I had to STAND UP. Without using my hands. Like, 10 times she made me propose and stand and then 10 times on the other leg, so maybe it’s m’thighs that hurt and not my hips, but they seem to be involved in the whole protest.

I still wish to get a new ceiling fan to replace that “Nod to the ’90s” one I have now. Someone said it looks like the Golden Girls’ ceiling fan and that’s totally it. Plus I see the paint tape is still at the top of it. Goddammit.

Also, because SOMEONE will ask, that is a wasp detractor. That thing hanging from the porch. You hang it and wasps think you already HAVE wasps so they don’t drop in. Ask for ice.

I gotta go. I have to go to work and also I could really go for some toast. I’d like toast with peanut butter and banana but the person who did my grocery shopping for me got the greenest bananas this side of Mr. Yuck. “Here are some groceries. You can’t eat any of them yet. Thanks. Bye.”

So I’m over here willing them to ripen. Which is not a symbol for anything except a want a banana. Also not symbolic.

OK, bye.
June

55 Comments

  1. I only read your blog, so I hadn’t seen the porch ceiling. It looks really nice. I like the retro fan and the Golden Girls rule.

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  2. This whole time I thought it was pop a squat and now you’re telling me it’s cop a squat? Either way, I’m glad Edz can do it and also, too? Any cat I’ve ever had has been required to also pop/cop; I don’t do litter boxes unless a cat is an infant or ill.

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  3. That’s awesom news about Edsel’s hips and his squatty pottying! Way to go, Edsel!

    I love how the ceiling color turned out! It’s so pretty!

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  4. I do not understand this borrowing thing. My parents never borrowed from any neighbors and no neighbors ever borrowed from us. Why don’t people just go get their own things instead of borrowing? I just don’t understand.

    Oh.ps. That is great news for the hips. Also the porch ceiling looks wonderful. I think I may have seen it some other place.

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  5. Tell your neighbors to bring their own ice container.
    Growing up our neighbors on one side would come by to borrow any and everything from pickles to potatoes and shampoo to shoe polish and everything in between at least once a week. Now and then normal stuff like a cup of sugar or flour but they always brought their own container. Hilarious. . Borrowing and expecting you to provide the bags, that’s some brass for ya right there.

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  6. Your porch ceiling is lovely and I need a wasp catcher. A (I’m assuming there’s only one) and the hummingbirds are fighting over the feeders, it’s bad enough the birds fight each other.

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  7. So happy for Edz. Also you are the best for physically supporting him when he struggled before.

    I get very eye rolly when a book has too much reliance on heavy handed symbolism. Conversely when I’m feeling dramatic I end up turning unrelated events in my life into portents of doooom. I had my original wedding ring stolen but at a time when I was more sane – I was upset but moved on swiftly. 2020 Nithya? Matt gifted me a miniature rose plant on our first anniversary. It died this summer. Actually inconsolable all day as it was a Symbol Of Our Love and it foreshadowed the end of Us! (Matt seemed somewhere between worried and bored but never told me to get a grip so we’re probably OK)

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  8. Doesn’t seem like it took very long for the meds to help Edsel, that’s really great news. I love the rabbit trails you run with your writing! You might suggest to the neighbors to bring a plastic bag or big bowl or a pot to collect the ice. Tell them you are slap out of bags (not advice, that’s just what I would do).
    Tee

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    1. teesmithii… “slap out of ” how sotherin of you.
      June,Speaking of southern , I think your porch ceiling fan looks all southern to me.
      I wondered too , if taking Edsel off the heart medicine will make a good difference for him as well.
      Squat propose, is that something Jack Lalane would do? Or a new yoga position?
      Thank you for the blue ceiling picture and I saw the fake hornet’s nest, looks like a helium balloon got stuck there.
      Like the idea of the sign on your door, that way, the neighbors know you are working ,even if they aren’t.
      Are they wearing their masks?
      I wonder if amazon delivers ice?
      Maybe they just want your good zip bags for all their drug selling.
      Very cute picture of Edsel, so glad is was instantly cured of heart failure. Really.

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  9. So so happy for Edz! You do deserve some ok time with your fur babies – no sickness time !
    Loved that header picture. I am old so I remember the letter writing days. I had a special friend in MI who would write these long, long letters, as many as 23 pages! But she never would try out email so sadly, our communication went bye bye.
    Maybe you could wrap fruit in a towel? Not sure if that works or not…
    I agree with – that neighbor needs t bring back the bags! Geez.
    That is the sweetest porch….

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  10. 1th, I love the header picture. The good old days when we though a bologna sandwich on white bread and a Pepsi was a good lunch.
    2th, I’m glad Edz is better and bless you for sharing your ice. I know it must get annoying, but bless you anyway.
    3th, great post, June.

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  11. So happy Edsel seems more comfortable!

    The whole part about the bananas is gonna have me giggling all day.

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  12. I have been so relieved to know that Edsel’s heart is not the problem. Bad hips we can work with.
    Your mooch of a neighbor should just buy a damn ice bucket.

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  13. How can that woman in your new header write with one hand while holding a glass in her other hand? I always use my spare hand to hold the paper still while I write. I’m crazy like that.

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  14. Love love love your Haint Blue (Blu) beadboard porch ceiling. I want to do that on our front porch. I’ve been nagging my husband for years to do it but he’s like Uncle Joe, he’s a-moving kind of slow at the Junction (Petticoat Junction).

    Also, I like my bananas to still be a little bit green. I think they taste better that way.

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  15. When I do the “you know what bugs me”. My husband, the saint, always says “I can see why that would bother you”. I also have a very large tome of irks.

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  16. That first day of Edsel photo made my heart melt. What a dog he is.
    The squat like the old days is totally worth waiting for in today’s installment! Not that it’s ever hard to read your meandering, I find it enteraining.
    My guess is it’s your hip flexors that are sore. That’s a thing.

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    1. Unlike you, who will keep that bag forever just in case, if I’d have taken home that bag it would be long gone. That said, I DO think I stashed one grocery bag somewhere for just this purpose. But where? In this roomy dwelling, where?

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  17. Oh, how I hated symbolism in English class. It took all of the pleasure out of reading something when you had to pick it all apart to analyze the hell out of it. I felt the same way in religion class the one year I went to the all girl Catholic high school. That crazy nun (truly, she had a full break down and was removed the next year) gave us thought questions and my answers were always wrong! My thoughts were not Hail Satan or anything radical. Sister ” If a boy puts his tongue in your mouth it’s the same as if he put his penis in your vagina” (I kid you not) was a nut job.

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  18. BWAHAHAHA. My gas is lethal, much worse than my guy’s. He calls me stinky and stink pot. I inherited this from my lady like grandmother. Diabeetus and mother nature both stink!

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  19. “Dribble off those Bobbie Brooks pantaloons”is how I’m going to sing that from now on! I can’t believe your neighbors come to your door and ask for ice without bringing a container!

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  20. Wonderful news about Edsel’s squatting ability. And Milhous squatting in the grass like Edsel is cute. “I peez lyk Edz.”
    Your haint blue ceiling looks perfect and the wasp detractor is clever. I’ll have to remember that trick.

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  21. Awwwww. Baby Edz.

    Your Ice Ice Baby neighbor can’t bring back your freezer bags for refills? Now *I’M* irked.

    “Nugs.” DIE. I had an old co-worker who wore huge gold jewelry. HUGE. We called her Nuggets behind (her equally-huge) back.

    Ok, so I’m a bitch today. What else is new, really?

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    1. My first thought was, they should bring you the bags if they want ice.
      I can feel my bitchiness rising to the surface this morning.

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  22. I’m so glad you started with what irks you . . . I heard something the other day and my first thought was “this would annoy the living daylights out of June!” Someone wanted a friend to pickup lunch for them and were asking for a burger and chicken nuggets. Their request read, “Big Mac and 10 nugs.”

    When did nuggets become “nugs”?

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        1. Why is there even a baby Yoda? I barely know who Yoda IS, and now I’m aware there’s also a baby version. It’s like how I vaguely know there’s a Michael Jordon or a Shaquille O’Neil.

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          1. I can’t do a lot of crossword puzzles anymore because they’re half pop references and I can only stare when asked such questions, and yes, for me Shaquille and Michael are pop. It’s that bad. I can respond to anything that has Fonzie as the correct answer, however.

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  23. This falls in advice territory…. but a very practical one regarding quickly ripening bananas (or any fruit for that matter — worked wonderfully for me with mangoes). Put them in individual paper bags and close (or wrap them tightly in newspapers). Within a day or two, you’ll have fully ripe fruit

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        1. If you have apples put them together. Apples give off some gas that help them ripen. I also give off gas but I don’t think it has that magical power.

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          1. BWAHAHAHA. My boyfriend calls me stinky or stinkpot. Why do mone smell so much worse? Diabeetus. I inherited that from my ladylike grandmother. Mother Nature is a bitch.

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            1. Sorry I missed this on Friday. Was busy driving to the high school to get kid’s math books. Missed the handout window. My phone was acting up and I could not check email to see if teacher responded to my email saying “Hey I am running over now, can I still get them?”. The building is not open to visitors, it’s like Fort Knox. At least when I came home frustrated no one asked me for ice. That’s just so odd. Glad Edsel’s hips are cooperating.

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          2. (Psssst…Anita, June doesn’t like apples of any kind or color in any shape or size in any degree of ripeness or otherwise. I doubt she has apples.). On a related note, when I get peaches or avocados and went to ripen them I put them under my bunch of bananas and they ripen beautifully. Bananas, so much more than just fruit.

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            1. I can understand the dislike of cilantro. But apples, I just don’t get the hatred. I could live off of apples and peanut butter. I love bananas and peanut butter as well. Mine are ripe now and I’m in a race to get them eaten or I’ll have to freeze them for smoothies. I’m constantly overbuying the produce. God help me, I bought a Costco bag of avocados.

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              1. Your mother and mine sound similar, Juan. My mother loves to tell me every restaurant that serves a sweet potato in any form.
                Also, my daughter and I prefer our bananas just barely past green. If there is a single speck of brown, my child declares the banana rotten. I keep telling her we can freeze them for smoothies, but she quick to toss them in the trash. Four year olds have no concept of the cost of groceries.

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