Just another day

Happy Holidays Everyone!

Living in a winter wonderland sure is a big change from the small town Texas lifestyle I grew up in. I like the snow though but the blowing cold winds... Not so much! One thing I do enjoy is a good shopping excursion! I mean c'mon what girl doesn't?? To be honest almost anything to get me out of the house is appreciated... Being a stay at home wife isn't all it's cracked up to be (besides the sleeping in part, it's glorious!) I am an extrovert that likes staying busy and on the go with friends. Staying home watching gossip girl has kept me sane... I think.

Anyway... So big mouth phooey says she has some days off coming up and we should get together to do some baking. I'm all over that idea since I also like to bake. One morning Gramma comes down stairs to tell me that big mouth phooey will be coming over shortly for a trip to her favorite store.... Costco! Anytime I've gone shopping with big mouth phooey it's been to that store and it never fails money will be gone by the time we leave. It's almost like its a play place for grown ups.

Big mouth phooey arrives yelling for me to hurry my ass and we are on our way! We arrive early and there's already no parking. Word of advice: don't go to costco around the holidays! There's a line to get in and we are all freezing our butts off waiting. What the hell takes so long anyway?! Oh yeah it's an exclusive store for members. Not impressed.

We finally get in and it's as if it's big mouth phooeys first time. Everything is a deal or steal!! "Sonicare toothbrushes: $100!!! What no way!!!!  A fleece jacket: $30 it's an amazing deal you should get 5!!!! " I could go on but I think you get the point. Every product gets pointed out and talked about like its a must for any rational household. Even the newest Nora Roberts book. Ugh. I soon find out that the distraction of bigger better deals soon gets out of hand when I have to continually rescue our cart from abandonment in the middle of isles along the way. People keep shooting me the annoyed eye and I have to give them the apologetic "yes I know it shouldn't be left there so that you can get by" shrug. By this time our cart is full of anomalies and various food products that we must have to feed the pack of wolves we know as family. By the way the 3 lb cake ice cream log that was a must didn't even get touched. Toooooo much foooooood. After loading up at costco we then made our way across the city to a walmart. I was over shopping at this point... It takes a lot out of you. 

I text Lita for some sanity and big mouth phooey noticed that I was quiet... You can't be quiet around BMP. "You should invite Lita to come to walmart and then get a mcdonalds coffee with us" Litas response.."I'd rather stick my tongue on a frozen post!" And I'm trapped again with deals, savings, and cart rescuing. Shopping: the newest evil. Now home to bake!!

Stop the car!

One day I was driving down the alley with the picker. It's exactly like Mavs says it is.  Busted up cars, sketchy people hanging out in the garage. Beware of dog signs everywhere.  At the end of the alley are these apartments building in dire need of repair.  They've been the same way since I was a kid. We used to find a door with a jimmied lock and venture inside.  The halls were always so dark and smelled of food that was probably cooked in the last ten years.  We were explorers, adventurers.  Every once in a while somebody would scream at us and try to chase us out the building.  We'd scatter like little bugs.  There were 6 of us all running as fast as we could down the long dark corridors, trying to bust out in the sunshine.  To the other side. So I'm driving down the alley and there is this huge trash container, that people pile up their junk as they move out.  All of a sudden the Picker screams, "STOP THE CAR, stop the car! I slam on my brakes thinking a cat has meandered in front of my vehicle. "Are you crazy!" I yell.  She gets out of the car and slams the door shut.  I don't ask questions when it comes to her.  I let her go.  She trails down to the garbage cans and starts digging.  All of a sudden out come two lamps complete with stained shades.  The look on her face is priceless, the biggest grin ever and she starts walking back toward my car.  I throw it in reverse and pin it backwards. She starts running after me with these huge ugly lamps, lampshades bouncing around with bobble heads. I lock my doors and open the window.  " YOU ARE NOT taking those things in my car!!" "There is nothing wrong with these, open the door you asshole!" She replies. I yell back at her " you dug those out of the ghetto apartment dumpsters, I don't care if you think they are gold, you are not bringing those into my car!" I think she was more shocked than anything, like she actually thought I would think this was a great idea.  She throws me an ugly glare and starts back down the alley to the beehive.  Screaming obscenities all the way down the street.  As I look in the rear view mirror after her I have to laugh.  She totally reminded me of that IKeA commercial where the lady comes out of the store with the big buy and screams START THE CAR, start the car.

Blow up already!

There is nothing that drives me crazier than watching my granny fuss about her old large tube tv. I swear you can get radioactive poisoning standing too close to it.  Well, right at this moment, she is trying to figure out why the remote control for the cable box is not working.  Right now, the tv has turned itself on and off about 50 times.  On and off it goes.  "Son of a beech, that stupid tv, it no work. Ah, shit, son of a beech! " I can't help but laugh at the whole ordeal.  What's worse is that I managed to pry it from her hands to try to figure out what button was pressed or flicked to the off position but its so off course that I don't know where to start.  Out comes the flashlight, out comes gramps to see what the fuss is about. On off, on off, on off.  She grabbed it again and says that all you have to do is press every damn button on this thing and it'll reset itself.  Hmmmm, I wonder if life could be that easy. So we're sitting in the dark, the big black box is resisting the urge to blow itself up.  On off, on off.  I'm losing my mind.  I wonder if The Pervert or Nancy is going to have to make a housecall to fix the thing for the tenth time this month.  its an hour away from the nightly news,  There is nothing that I can do but get some lighter fluid and set the thing on fire. A girl can dream right? Oh good thing The suit just arrived, he's gonna give it a go. Well, I'll be darned.  It works! I need a nap. 

Hot tub anyone?

Winter is here full force and I can honestly say I have never lived in so much snow. Everyone just laughs a knowing laugh that indicates I'm completely nieve and the worst is yet to come. Good thing I love boots and scarves and mittens and all things winter related.

The best thing in the winter is glitter snow. You know the kind of snow I'm talking about... Very light and has a certain sparkle as it falls that it's almost like diamonds surrounding you (hey a girl can dream). It all just seems and feels so magical you can't help but be in an instant better mood just watching it fall outside your window.

Another perk of winter would be hot tubs... It's the perfect time for them!! It's a refuge from the cold while still enjoying the outdoors. You find that nice corner spot that allows you to sink back and spread out with jets massaging from your neck down to your toes. Awwwwhhhh Such bliss.

But with every perk comes problem or so it would seem... High electric bill, maintenance, etc. I assume one of these problems seemed to have been an issue for a neighbour 3 houses down the alleyway recently. A few months back there was lots of discussion around garbage picking (which will be a topic for a later date) and as we were traveling down the alley one day, The Suit notices this hot tub and makes a comment like we should get it. Looking back I don't think he was serious but since it had been a hobby of sorts at the time, I was a little worried that we would end up with some broken disgusting left over stale someone else's butt touched hot tub like it was a good idea. Thankfully the thought passed and the negatives were processed with the idea and no action was taken (I'm sure our lives were spared). This was back in September.

A couple days ago the infamous hot tub was moved. Instead of rotting in the back of its owners house, they apparently thought it would be a good idea to instead let it rot on its side in the snow by our neighbours back yard who lives on the corner (WHAT JERKS). As Captain drops off the young babe there was a comment made in hopes it falls while driving by so charges can be pressed for such stupidity. (I wouldn't hope for such a headache but to each his own!)

Yesterday, it fell. And no not on captains vehicle, or anyone else's for that matter. It fell over right smack dab in the middle of the entryway of the alley. Meaning we all have to go all the way around just to get to our garage. Idiots. I can't help but wonder what neighborhood turds are going to now see this as a community hot tub fit for using right where it's at. I can see it now "hey joe bring your cooler of beer, we got a hot tub!!!" Interrupted in thought, Gramma comes home and first thing out of her mouth, "WHAT THE HELL THAT HOT TUB DOING OUT THERE?!"

Calm before the Storm

Well the weekend has now passed and we are all back "on the grind" as it's called. What does that mean anyway and why do we keep finding ourselves doing something that most of us hate? Does any one really like being awoken by an alarm clock? I sure don't.

Living in the basement of an elderly couple comes with its own set of alarms. Sometimes I wonder if I even need a reminder to get up from my phone. It never fails that there is shit to be given in the early A.M. from Gramma to Grampa. It all starts like this...

Dreams. Clouds. ZzZ's. The quiet slumber of sleeping making the night fly by without notice. Snow falling silently outside covering the sidewalks and roadways. Rejuvenation. I find it funny that as you get older it seems like you sleep less and less, waking up at 5 AM like its normal, and drinking mounds of coffee. Anyhoo, this morning did not disappoint in alarms. Gramma is going on a trip to Saskatoon (so fun to say) which is in Saskatchewan (also fun). She must have been excited to leave because she was awake much earlier than usual this morning. I awake to stomping and a few crash bams and booms of things being jostled about upstairs. My first reaction is to think that maybe I had overslept and I am now behind on my morning schedule. I immediately check my phone. Nope. WAYYYY too early. and nope. Husband, The Suit, is still sound asleep. I try to go back to sleep.
By this time Gramps is up (I assume from the noise as well) and I'm seeing it pan out in my mind. He is curious and investigates what is happening. In doing so, he must have said or done something to spark "the shit".  -The Shit I'm referring to is the kind a family member or friend gives to help you "wise up" but instead makes you feel like a complete dumbass. It's given with the best intention but probably has the worst impact but none the less is still given. "YOU HAVE TO GIVE 'EM SHIT!!" I've heard Gramma say so many times.-  I never know exactly what Grampa has done this time but Polish words are flying and the loud booming voices seem to flow through the air vents with the warm air. I stop to ponder how I could close that up and still get warmth and just give up when I hear the door fly open and BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM the stomping of feet to clear the snow off of shoes.
Big Mouth Phooey has just arrived and I realize sleep is now a lost cause. She has come to pick up Gramma to take her to the bus for her mini vacation. She has also joined in on the yelling and shit. Then comes the ever present CHING CHING CHING CHING CHING CLANG CLANG CHING. - Yes our house also transforms into a casino equipped with slot machines, bingo and loud music.- It's as if it just wasn't loud enough so something else had to be added to counteract the silence. The house is a full buzz now and its not quite 6:30 AM. I toss and turn and turn and toss. Pillow over my head. left. right. Blanket over my head. leg up. Now I'm too hot. leg out. Now I'm too cold. UGH. And then.....
BEEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP. There's the alarm clock indicating the day needs to begin.

Why are you yelling at me?

We yell.  All of us.  Not because we're mad or upset.  Its because the loudest one wins.  Nybody who is knew that meets the family pretty much wonders why we are all mad at each other.  Especially if there is more than 3 in the room.  My grandfather is as deaf as a post.  He tries to lip read but doesn't do a good job of it.  He just gets mad and starts scowling.  I guess when your 96 years old you can grump and bitch at whatever you want. So we sit around the kitchen table, which is usually the hub of all conversations.  It's usually big mouth phooey, Mavs, granny, the hermitess and me.  Actually the hermitess, usually leaves as soon as we all gather.  She has a problem with people.  At first I just thought she was anti social but I really don't think that she likes anybody, even her daughter.  She hates caffeine but loves her alcohol. It's never too early for a beer.  My granny gets on her back at every given situation and then the bickering begins. We talk about everything. From the amount of shovels that my grandpa has collected to how long is too old to keep something past the expiration date.  One time I had a craving for celery and cheese whiz, slathered it on thick, took a bite and felt like somebody shit in my mouth.  Foul, nasty, stank, burning.  Seems 2 years is not long enough to throw out.  I threw it out.  I'm pretty sure grampa dug it out and put it back in the fridge.  I haven't had cheese whiz since.  And I'm pretty sure I let everyone know about it around the table.  I'm pretty sure they heard me down the block too.

What the hell was that?

So I'm sitting around the kitchen table listening to the hum of the beehive.  It's pretty rare that there is any silence in this house and when the occasion arises, somebody is up to no good.  Gramps is leaning in trying to hear what the fuss is all about. Usually there are about 4 women yapping about random things.  But this time, it's quiet.  Granny went to the store to buy some buns, gramps is trying to figure out why his key doesn't fit in the lock anymore and Mavs has taken a little time out to be with The Suit, who has just arrived with dinner.  As I am caught up in a little daydream about Gronk, I hear the craziest noise from the spare room.  It's a cross between chains rattling in a closet, scratches across the floor and a hiss.  Well, I have no idea what the fuck is going on but I know it's not good.  In walks granny with her bag of buns and I sit dead panned watching this furball blurry creature freaking out, attached to what seems to be a metal cage.  Almost. It's daisy. And she has got her collar snagged onto the most ornate food bowl ever.  She spins it around and shit goes flying everywhere.  Water, kibble, metal, fur.  Water kibble metal and fur.  There is goes again! I've never seen anything quite like it.  At this point I am laughing my fool head off and up from the desolate basement comes Mavs. She's been a witness to this before and has told me about it.  I had no idea the catastrophic and hilarity of it all.  We both are in a fit of hysterics.  Frankly, it's really not that funny.  But I can't stop snickering about it.  It's just one of those things that you just have to bear witness to. It's like when somebody trips and stumbles.  It's really not that funny but it makes you laugh. Granny just mumbled, "sonofabitch dog, he stupid! Gettahellara!"

Antics and Drama

First and foremost, Happy American Thanksgiving and Black Friday! Hope everyone survived the madness and saved some money on all the things you "need". 

Black Friday is a new concept for Canada and everyone kept asking me if it really is crazy and whether or not the deals are really that great. Honestly, YES it's a madhouse of crazy orangatangs fighting over the last Myley Cyrus cd and big screen tv that they already have because " it's such a good deal "!! NEWSFLASH your spending money on something you already have or don't need which means ITS NOT A GOOD DEAL!!!! Rant over.

So yesterday was a calmer day at the beehive. Lita stopped by to rescue ranger me from the PIT OF DOOM aka the basement suite The Suit and I live in. We stopped by the bookstore and brainlessly shifted through pages of books that caught our eyes, stocked up on some espresso holiday drink treats and made our way back to the hive. Upon walking in it I was sure the young babe, who I babysit daily, would have been awake from her nap. To my surprise I did not see her and no sooner did I ask if she had awoken from her slumber, that I heard that shrill of a scream indicating the answer. You see apparently while I was away with Lita, Gramps had gotten curious about where the baby was. One thing I've caught on to about gramps... Something gets in his mind it doesn't go away. He's stubborn like that. Gramma told us he went looking for the baby 3 TIMES in the basement but "could no find". "She no there" he says with a little shake of the head determined, I suppose, that perhaps babies just disappear when they sleep. I tried to convince him she most certainly was but what do I know? "AGGHH" he shrugged it off with a phlem filled sound and it no longer mattered.

On to the next drama, the Polish Newspaper. Gramps loves reading the polish paper and always renews his subscription to stay up on the times of course. "I NEVER GET PAPER HERE!" Gramps yells. (Everyone yells esp around gramps. Never wears his hearing aid. It's "no good") Gramma yells something back in Polish that sounds something like  "Alemhashib thinkasher!!! You need to write them and tell them you no receive your son-of-a-gun paper!!!!" (Everything is a son-of-a-gun something around here) $136 a year for a paper not received... We need to follow up with this by snail mail for sure. "Give them a call it would be much faster" I said, going unheard. Guess I didn't tell loud enough.

All in all it was a good day! Yummy cabbage soup enjoyed around the table that has heard so many secrets, fights, laughs, and stories.... Stay tuned!

Did you flush that?

So remember when I mentioned the toilet? Well, I feel that since we're talking about body functions and all, we might as well share the toilet story.  See, my grandparents had this god awful commode.  You couldn't put a piece of tissue paper into it without plugging it up so bad, that you prayed to the poop gods that the water wouldn't overflow onto the teeny rug.  What it was doing there and why somebody put a rug near a toilet is beyond me. But I'm thinking,  it was to catch the overflow which occurred on a regular basis.  Every time anyone knew came over to the house, somebody would scream, don't take a deuce.  Pretty embarrassing if you ask me.  So one day, after trying to dislodge whatever had plugged it up this time, my grandmother says, " that's it, we're buying a new crapper!" So off Nancy and Porno Bob go, to the neighbourhood hardware store.  To check out the latest in toilets.  Top of the line, no way.  we're pretty frugal around here, just a basic ceramic bowl with a handle that doesn't break off or loosen.  In arrives the new toilet, off comes the old one.  Off comes the old one...off comes the old one??? Apparently it was easier said than done.  Well, this thing had been on its base for the last 20 years, glued, stewed and pooed.  Somebody bring in another tool!  I'm afraid that's not possible, The Cough has stolen them all and we're committed to prying it off with a hammer and screwdriver.  Finally after hours of wiggling and loosening and prying, the thing comes off.  But you wouldn't believe what treats were in store as it pulled lose.  Gramma's lacy face clothes and an assortment of tea towels were all jammed up in it.  Seems to me that gramps figured it was a much cleaner way of doing his business. And the first thing I think of as they appear..."holy hell...when was the last time I washed my face! 

Did you die?

So I'm accustomed to walking face first into all kinds of smells. Granny's homemade cinnamon buns, noodles boiling the shit out of themselves on the stove, garlic, lots and lots of garlic. The smell of dishrag, yes it has a smell, I know, I got a good whiff of it when I did the mounds of dishes that The Bickersons left behind while indulging on granny's lovely tomato bisque.   It smells something like dead shoe.  Yeah that would sum it up. I threw it out when no one was looking.  Asked for another one.  And proceeded to wash every cup in the cupboard.  See, Mavs and I play this game with each other.  Who can have a cup of coffee in the filthiest mug and not need a flu shot.  Its just about the rinse and stick.  Stick it to anything basically. Your shirt, your hand, whatever surface that doesn't have a crumb on it. Yesterday Mavs was looking for a teabag, i suggested not reaching for the ones in the box. Whats in the box you ask? well, just a nice dose of squirty bum tea.  Grampa likes to take laxatives and this is by far the least evasive way to indulge. I'm just be thankful that they have a new toilet.  That's a whole other story!

 I have to say something before I continue.  I love my family to pieces, we're a weird wacky bunch of nuts.  Mavs and I are just making light out of a whole crazy situation and frankly nobody would believe us when we tell you our stories.  I wouldn't believe them either if I hadn't lived within its walls for almost half a decade. This is our story...

Back to the smells.  So after I wash all the dishes in the house I venture down the stairs where Mavs is sitting on the edge of the couch listening to The Suit banter about goals and visions and deadlines.  And all I can think about is...Did you fart? Seriously dude, did you just die a little bit inside? What is that smell? I grab one of their enormous cushions on the couch and start flapping it in the air like some crazy pelican.  See The Suit has the best laugh in the world, when he laughs you can't help but give in and start laughing yourself.  He thinks farts are the funniest thing in the world.  And realistically, I don't know what this guy has eaten today but his ass won't quit.  One leg goes up, an asscheek and kapow...there goes off another round of ass bullets. Mavs just looks at me and shakes her head.  "He's all mine, I found his insoles from his work boots earlier in the bathroom sink." If he's not standing on the stink, he's sitting on the stink.

Daily Struggles

Hey there, I'm Mavs. At least, for this blog anyway. I'm an adventurer and wanderer of sorts. I happen to also be quite the observer but never a judge. And without fail my life is constantly a story, sometimes tragedy, sometimes action, sometimes drama, but mostly a comedy. (I'd like to think I have inherited this from my Grammy).

I am not Canadian, I am American... Texan to be more exact though that was not by choice. And before you jump to conclusions and draw up every stereotype there is.... NO I don't ride horses everywhere I go and carry a gun and say words such as "Y'all, Bless Your Little Beatin' Heart, or Wait One Cotton Pickin' Minute.." I'm just a girl that can't stay in one scene too long without getting bored and always on the search for new fun friendships and a good laugh. This is my story..

So, 3 months ago I was excited to be getting married, in Vegas, to my best friend, The Suit. Little did I know this step in my life would be a giant leap where I would not only  move to a different country but gain an entire family of insanity that I have grown to love and appreciate. Don't get me wrong my family is insane as well in fact I'm willing to bet most families are, but this new family I was learning was on a-whole-nother level!...

My husband, The Suit, is quite the guy. He loves taking me to the mall and by now I'm quite sure we have created our own small rut in the road that takes us from our lovely basement suit to West Ed Mall. Where the hustle and bustle of people, especially around this time of year, is never lacking. Yesterday as Lita will mention The Suit was smelling up the place with unpleasant odor from the rear region. And it didn't stop there my friends. As we pulled into our make shift parking spot in the icy,snow winter horrorland of a lot of the mall our car had been turned into a fart box with limited air supply. "I HAVE TO GET OUT! I CAN'T BREATHE!" I thought as I threw open the car door and gasped for clean crisp air as if I had been choking on fart steam and close to suffocation. The struggle was real. I'm not sure what he ate but HOLY SMOKES.
Anyway as I'm walking around the car finally gaining back my sanity my shoes I can tell are not good with ice and snow. I feel my feet shaking as I try to keep balance which I fail and bust my ass or side ass really and in turn get ice and slush all over me. Daily Struggles.
The Suit helps me up thankfully and doesn't laugh (surprised me a little bit because its always funny when someone falls down) and even dusts me off. "Maybe" I thought, "its his way of apologizing for that agonizing ride..."
The Mall was packed as it should be with rhinos and elephants stampeding for sales and looking for the next way to spend their dollar .. eerrr excuse me I mean Loonie. We spent a couple hours milling about dodging the crazies of the mall, keeping my cool in the bookstore as The Suit does what The Suit does and visiting our pets in the pet store. All the while, the farts and stink continue to get worse.....
As I'm talking to The Suit as we are walking toward our exit I notice he is not paying much attention.. this is nothing new as he always has thoughts and plans cranking away.. but he was gaining speed in his step and I had to ask what was up. "I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM IMMEDIATELY BEFORE I POOP MY PANTS." Oooookaayyyy... and we were off bee lining it to the bathroom to ensure there would be no poopy pants.
As he comes out, there is an aura around him like he's in a much better place which instantly puts me in a better mood thinking and hoping that the farts have now ceased, at least for the evening, and I can enjoy the car ride home but I was wrong.....
We get back to the car, without any calamities, and hop inside with red noses and frozen appendages. (It was -23545 or something close to that I believe in Celsius...) I see The Suit adjusting in his seat as we start our trek home which only means one thing.. A FART.  - You see The Suit has this theory that if he lifts up his ass it helps the fart flow........ I'll keep my thoughts on this theory to myself. - The smell hits us instantly and my eyes water and my throat closes up and all I could think of was any and every escape route. "AGHHH" I yelled "WHAT DIED INSIDE OF YOU AND NOW IS TRYING TO MAKE AN ESCAPE?!?!?"   The Suit replies with a simple, "It's bad baby, its real bad." As if I had been unaware. He continues "It's like a combustion of carbs inside of me" - oh the amazing things you learn from google search -  "You guys get it so good. I get it first hand at least your getting second hand whiffs" ..What is his cigarette smoking? .. "I basically have to smell my own poop"   " WELL ITS BETTER THAN HAVING TO SMELL SOMEONE ELSES POOP WHICH IS WHAT I'M HAVING TO ENDURE!" I replied between quick breaths. The fart box was back and I was sure to die.  Daily Struggles.
Sleep finally came and I woke up the next morning to The Suit having washed the dishes, again I thought "This must be his apology" And all was good in the world again... for now.

Picker needs a pill

Hi, my name is Lita and I am 46 years old. Some people say that i don't act my age.  I'm always flying by the seat of my pants.  Jumping from one place to another, speaking my mind and all covered in paint at the same time. Not the paint you slap on your walls, I just have to be clear about that.  We will get to that kind of paint, I am sure at another time. I pack up my crutches and bounce on one foot to my car. It's the same thing that I have been doing for about a month. Broken foot.  Tripped over a curb while I was working, twisted the bugger up and snap! Now I hobble around, getting an earful from Gronk every time I put any weight on it.  He loves me, so I'll listen to him this once.

Back to the car.  So I'm on my way and my Bluetooth picks up an unknown caller.  Could be a number of people calling so luckily for them I pick up.  It's Picker, she wants to know what I'm doing.   I tell her I'm on the road to gramma's house.  All of a sudden she wants me to pick her up...then the story changes, she wants me to pick her up, drive her to the drugstore, on one foot, bounce to the pharmascist, get some Tylenol, pay for it with my own money, bring it to her and then proceed to watch her eat about a dozen.  Just to take the edge off.  Sorry, I say.  "Can't do that!" "What is wrong with you!" she says.  I reply, "I'm not interested in feeding your addiction anymore, I don't want to enable you." It goes quiet for a second..." So when are you picking me up?" Picker says.  "Not going to grammas anymore, sorry". She hangs up. As I pull into the driveway and lock up the vehicle, my jacket snags on the spring that gramps has made to make sure the gate shuts.  It practically rips off my ear. We gotta fix that, I think to myself.  Manoeuvre around the patio steps and yet once again, the door.  Another spring loaded contraption just waiting for my pants. Is this some kind of bear trap? I barely make it in unscathed and almost fall into a bucket that is right in front of the door.  "What the fuck is in that!!!