"Such A Pleasant Surprise!"

Welcomed visitors...

 Good "WTF" Wednesday Morning, y'all.

"Therese, c'mon, we're gonna be... What the?"

Looking out the living room window, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was a visit from a Canadian Goose couple and their Mallard sidekick grazing on, I guess, grass seeds. And, to think that I was gonna cut the grass later in the afternoon. I actually left the coffee shop early to fill up my gas containers with ethanol free gas in preparation.

If we get another visit like the surprise one we received this morning, it may be a while before I crank up the mower.

Such a special treat for us since we've lived here for over twenty years, we've never been able to attract any kind of waterfowl with our two ponds. Occasionally, we'd flush out a kingfisher or small green heron, but not much else. Just about every morning and evening the geese will honk and breeze in their "V" formation pass our property choosing better spots to graze.

About ten years ago or so, Tee succumbed to those cute little chicks and ducklings that are traditionally displayed around Easter at pet and local "feed and seed' stores and purchased two. She raised them to adulthood and enjoyed having their clowning around for over a year or so. The male, who we named, "Duckman" was ever as goofy as the cartoon character and Therese fell in love with him, his antics, and his protective ways.

He actually displayed such personality!

Seeing in the goose couple what we perceived to be an ever vigilant, protective male struttin' around the other two birds with his head raised up high perusing the landscape, reminded us of "Duckman."

When we had to leave, the birds were not at all fazed by our presence as we got into the car and headed out. All three waddled a bit more spritely to the front pond allowing us passage halfway down the driveway. Naturally, when we returned later in the day, the group was gone.

It will be interesting to see if they will return this morning, and if so, will they be towing along with them their sidekick? We're still a bit perplexed by the presence of that seeming confused male Mallard...

First cup, y'all...

Copyright 2022/ Ben Bensen III

"Double Oh Seven Styled Stuff"...

Shirt foundations

 Good Thursday Morning, all bodies.

Last Saturday, at the Scenic Rivers Gallery show, my friend, Peggy Usner, noticed that I was wearing a new shirt. I don't know how she knew that other than the fact that I haven't bought any shirts since my stay in Palm Springs with the American Society of Aviation Artists three years ago and had seen over time every shirt I ever owned.

"Did you buy a new shirt?" she asked.

"Yes, I did. Why?"

With a twinkle in her eye she said that I forgot to take a tag off. I froze. I froze because a few days earlier, I bought three or four shirts and none of them fit once I tried them on at home. Two of the four were on hangars and the other two were created by structural engineers intent on making the deconstruction most difficult.

And, of course, once the shirts were taken apart in order to expose hidden internal assumptions and be analyzed, it was nearly impossible to put back together again. The shirts never looked as good as they did all neatly packed firm and tight.

On one shirt, which I came close to buying, I confidently snapped the plastic line that held the last possible deterrent. I was so sure it would fit, but it didn't.

"You shouldn't have broken that seal," my wife belatedly commented.

"They won't take it back now even if you have the receipt," she said.

Well, I certainly wasn't gonna keep a shirt that I'm not gonna ever wear, I thought to myself.

"Maybe, I'll just donate it to some needy shirtless dude," I said.

While stuffing all the deconstructed parts to the shirts in the original bag it dawned on me that I could mend the plastic strap by heating a screwdriver and melting the two ends back together again.

It always worked in my model airplane building days when glue no longer worked to hold two broken pieces together. Oh, the tactics of a fashionably covert shopper.

Once the tricky operation was completed, I tugged at the plastic cord with the label attached and it held together perfectly. The proof of my handiwork would be vindicated at the return desk...

... or sent to jail for defrauding J.C. Penney.

So, with the tags securely intact, I carefully rebuilt the two shirts that I had originally stuffed back into the shopping bag. I rebuilt them to the best of my knowledge with stickers, pins, collar inserts, cardboard backing and tissue paper folding them ever so neatly and hiding the repaired labels so the cashier would not suspect a thing.

Sweating bullets as the cashier took the two shirts off the hangers and placed them aside, she took the receipt out of the bag and never even checked to see my "cloak and dagger" handiwork.

It was a bit of a tense moment when she looked me straight in the eye and then... handed me my refund. I thanked her and walked off looking back to see her take the bagged shirts and throw them in with the other returnables.

Double Oh Seven styled stuff, I tell ya!

Second cup...

Copyright/2022/Ben Bensen III