The Day I Maced Grandma

The Day I Maced Grandma

by Grandpa

OK kids, listen up. Here's the true story of how I maced your grandma, (great-grandma to some of you.)

It started out like a normal shopping day. We got up early and drove north 18 miles to Newport, our closest city with more than one stop light. Grandma and I figure it's worth the drive every other week or so, to take advantage of the lower prices. We usually go to Wal-Mart first, then to the bakery for day old bread, and on the way home we stop by the Dollar Tree to look for more bargains.

The huge Wal-Mart parking lot was nearly empty, so we were able to park fairly close to the door. As we went inside past the greeter, who sleepily intoned, “Welcome to Wal-Mart,” we could hear the supervisors giving their employees an early morning pep talk.

“Now let's get out there and sell, don't forget to smile, and who's number one?”

“The customer!' a chorus of voices half-heartedly chimed in.

We picked up some various “made in China” merchandise along with some groceries,dog food, paper towels, toothpaste, shampoo, etc. and wheeled our cart up to a lonely cashier in an empty checkout lane. “It sure is easier to shop when we get here early,” grandma remarked.

“Yep, we're getting too old to fight the crowds anymore,” I said. The cashier grunted in agreement, almost forgetting the smile part of her pep talk, as she loaded our stuff in plastic bags and thanked us for shopping at Wal-Mart. The greeter thanked us for shopping at Wal-Mart again as we went through the door.

Next stop was the day old bread store at the local bakery. It's a small store, (only two shopping carts) but it's a good place for senior citizens like us to save some money. We found some loaves of my favorite rye, some hamburger buns and some whole wheat bread for grandma. We'd keep a couple of loaves out to use and stick the rest in the freezer when we got home.

The Dollar Tree was just opening up as we pulled into the parking lot. I figured we might be a while, because you never could tell what kind of one-dollar bargains we would find there. One thing for sure - there was no rushing grandma, so I went scouting on my own, bringing back items for her approval.

I brought back a jar of olives, a couple cans of chicken noodle soup, some reading glasses which I used to see the fine print on the olive jar, (a product of Turkey,) and a dog chew toy (made in China.) Grandma nodded OK at my selections and said,”While you're wandering around, see if you can find some room deodorizer spray.”

When I found it, the selection was staggering: Lemon Flower, Delicious Apple, Luscious Peach, Blue Splash, Mango, Mandarin Orange, ( My mouth started watering) Vanilla Royale, Wild Rose, and more.

Which to choose. I grabbed a can of Wild Rose and tried to find grandma. Sometimes she manages to somehow hide behind the display ends and no matter how many aisles I look down, or how many times I go back and forth looking she's never there. The best solution is to stay put and let her find me.

Pretty soon I heard her call my name from behind me. (She always sneaks up behind me, I don't know how she does it.) “Did you find some deodorizer?” I held the can of Wild Rose out and decided to give a sample spritz in front of her so she could see what it smelled like.

Now over my seventy-odd years, I've used many spray cans. I spray-can painted a tractor once, spray- can lacquered all of the tables and chairs in a restaurant, and I spray butter flavored, no stick cooking spray in my egg skillet every morning. You push the button down and the spray comes out the front, right? Well, this one didn't work that way.

I pushed the button and it sprayed straight out of the top right into grandmas face. Really hard. Really a lot. (Maybe I shouldn't have nervously shook the can so much while I was waiting for her.)

Grandma yelled something at me, I don't remember what it was, it's probably blocked from my memory, (hopefully forever.) Red faced and partially blinded, she groped for a tissue to wipe her streaming eyes. “Gaack, ptooey! That's awful!” she sputtered. The whole aisle smelled like rotten rose petals. The other customers quickly cleared the area.

Horrified at what I'd done, besides saying how sorry I was, I didn't know what else to do. If I'd asked the store manager for help she would probably have suspected me of grandma abuse, or at the very least spraying before paying. She might even call the cops, the EPA or Homeland Security.

Thankfully the weeping, spitting and sputtering was dying down, so I got up the courage to meekly ask,”Well, what do you think? Of the smell, I mean. Is it OK?”

In a low voice that could have come from the pits of Hades, she said, “Put it back and get me the hell out of here!”

Before I put the can of Wild Rose back on the shelf I grabbed my new glasses and read on the bottom: Made in China.

Damn Chinese, I think it's a nefarious plot to slowly wipe us out, one spritz at a time!

How (not) to install an awning

Several months ago while we were sitting out on J.C.'s deck, sipping our glasses of wine, he mentioned that he had looked into the patio awnings advertised on TV, but that they were really spendy. I told him that every now and then I'd seen used ones for sale and that I'd keep my eyes open for one.

Sure enough, several weeks later, a used 16 foot RV awning was listed on our local cable TV “wheel,” so Carol dialed the number and found out that it was just a few houses away from our place. We called J.C. and when he arrived we walked down the road to look at it.

The awning was neatly stored on a rack in the owners garage, and he showed us the large motor home that it had been removed from, to be replaced by a newer motorized model. The awning was in really good shape and looked almost like new. We thanked the older gentleman for his time and J.C. said he'd think about it, and let him know.

A week or so later J.C. called and said that he was going to go ahead and get the awning, so he and I drove down, tied it on the kayak racks on top of our pickup and delivered it to the“project pile” in his carport. On the bottom of the pile is the roll of carpet we were going to put in his bedroom but never got around to it, next is a layer of stepping stones that will go in front of his barbecue some day, and then some 2X6 shelves for the green house. The awning sat proudly on top.

Every afternoon we sat out on the deck, sipping wine and planning how to make an RV awning work on the side of a mobile home. The seller had generously included some installation instructions but they seemed confusing, so after much consideration, planning and sipping we decided to play it by ear. J.C. had to order some mounting hardware for it on the Internet so we had plenty of time to sip and plan. It turned out that it wasn't enough.

Last Saturday J.C. called and asked if I'd come up and help him hang the awning. His son Kelly had a day off so he thought the three of us could put it up in no time. I walked the mile and a half to his house, (which I've been doing lately to get some exercise) and saw when I arrived that he'd installed a mounting board under the eaves, had the awning uprights attached and propped up on sawhorses, and the rail drilled and ready. “If you and Kelly hold it in place by the uprights I'll put the screws in the rail and we should be in business!”After a little fumbling and bumbling we got things in position and J.C. used his screw gun to fasten it in place with deck screws.

“Well, that worked out OK,” I said,” Lets see if it unrolls!” We tugged and pulled but nothing happened.

“I think there's a release on that end!”J.C. said, so I stood on a ladder and flipped a likely looking lever. My end of the awning began to open. “Aha! So I guess to roll it back up you flip it back like this! Owww!” The awning snapped back with three of my fingers caught under the upright.

“Are you OK?” J.C. asked.

“Id be better if I could get my *^#% fingers out of here!” I answered.

“Flip the lever!” Kelly yelled. Eventually, after tugging, pulling, cussing and flipping we got my squashed, but undamaged, fingers free.

We held another planning session and decided to have Kelly pull on the strap hanging from the center while J.C. and I walked the uprights out as far as we could. When we unrolled it as far as it would go, which wasn't nearly as far as we had hoped, I raised the locking bar on my side and started to tighten the knob when everything went to hell. I heard Kelly yell, “I can't hold it!” J.C. somehow had climbed up on the deck rail and was trying to fall down or do a River Dance, I wasn't sure which. I started to try and help Kelly when my end collapsed and soon we were immersed in retracting awning, flying locking bars, and a lot of cussing and yelling. I stood amazed as I watched the awning, still dragging Kelly, clear the table of tools and glasses of ice water, and speedily roll itself up until it hung up on the porch light. J.C. was still doing the River Dance on the 2X6 deck railing, but he was quickly winding down.

While Kelly picked up the tools and cleaned up the broken glass and ice cubes, we surveyed the damage. Probably because we had extended the awning out too far, both locking bars had come apart and somehow fallen out of the uprights and there was no way to put them back without taking everything down and starting over.

We decided to go back to sipping and planning for a while.