Another Parrot Pill - long post

Dang, I think I broke a nail!

The house looks great again. And smells pretty good too!

Last time we went to Lowe's, I found a "good smelly shit" (as Gordon calls it) that one places at the return air vent to the furnace/air conditioning. It works good. We bought two of them. Right now, we have the Vanilla hanging there, between the filter and the grate door.

  

It smells nice, without taking your breath away, or suffocating you. Or your pets. I would recommend it.

~  ~  ~  

With a plentiful amount of brakes, I managed to "hoover" the whole house, dust it from top to bottom, and polish the furniture yesterday.

- Oh, what a thrill, Miriam! Your life is indeed remarkable!!

At night, when we were about to settle down to watch TV in the bedroom, we heard a huge - I mean HUGE - kaboom!

The cats scattered, the dogs had their furs all up! And the lights went out.

As it has happened before, we just calmed the pets down, and moved to the back deck. To enjoy the darkness, and wait for the power to come back. After a while, as it got darker and darker, we finally noticed that our neighbours (which are not really visible, except for the lights in their houses - thank you very, very much!) had power. We were the only ones in the dark.

Gordon called the power company, and soon this young man was here to fix the problem. It was dark. He had a light focused on the pole in our yard, as he came out of his pick-up carrying a kind of stick.

With my old eyes, I could barely see up that pole. But this young man attached the new fuse to the tip of this stick, stretched it up, up, up and, with hands as firm as a brain surgeon, he slowly moved it until it grabbed something (which I could not figure out by any means - Gordon explained it to me later).

He then pulled a little, steady as nothing I've seen before, and attached the new fuse in place. It sparkled a little, and "tcha-ran!" the lights were on.

The fuse is that long tube looking thing, lighter in colour, between the two stretched out metal arms, on the top right. Cool, isn't it? 

Gordon went there and asked what he thought was the reason of our problem. The young man pointed to the ground and answered:

- That squirrel over there.

Yes! A squirrel caused it. The poor thing was roasted medium rare on the grass. He went too far somewhere over those wires and life came to an end.

Sorry, buddy!

~ ~ ~ 

We always had maids at the house, as I was growing up. One at a time, I mean.

But we always had them. The job, in my country, used to be afordable (I don't know if it still is). These ladies were usually quite poor, uneducated and very humble. They usually lived in the slums, at that time. Again, I cannot testify for how it is now, anymore.

House cleaning was a source of income that they could maintain, being that the idea was "anyone knows at least how to clean a house, right?"

Anyway, as I was saying, we always had these helpers. I remember a number of them. There was Alzira, Elza and multiple Marias, as this is a very comon name in my country. They were funny, cool, and quite often they were considered part of the family. But they did not stay long. The job was a high turn over type.

One of these Marias, one morning, showed up to work with a huge black eye and a fat lip! Oh, my Lord! We were all stunned, concerned and horrified!

My mother was very upset. At the time I could not understand what was going on but my mother knew. Mom told us not to talk about it, not to stare. Act normal.

Maria worked her shift and left. And I remember that I kept on questioning my mom about it. "She hurt herself" was her reply, still upset.

Maria healed, and life went on.

Until another date, and here was Maria again all bruised up!

My mother was posessed! Pissed! Furious! She could have killed a squirrel with her eyes, better then our electric pole, that time!!

Sometime during that day, mom called Maria and sat down with her. I still remember where they were, because I was snooping the conversation.

And my mother asked her what had happened. Maria started to cry and I heard her tell mom that her husband had done it. Both times. And she went on saying that the guy used to drink and, when drunk, he would get violent and beat on her.

I heard my mom say to her:

- Are you dead? Are you crippled? Are you going to put up with it until he kills you? How about your children? Who is going to take care of them, when the  #%$@@  finally kills you?

- But, Dona Violeta ("Dona" means Ms.), he is a man! He is much stronger than I!

- Grab something, for goodness sakes!! Grab a stick, grab a pot, grab something!!!! There is no reason for you to go on putting up with it, Maria! Scream! Run! Or GRAB SOMETHING!! If you do not have anyone to help you, you have to help yourself, woman!! Defend yourself!!

It is worth saying that, back in those days, the police would seldom come to rescue a woman in such situation. And, more yet, telephones in the slums were almost non-existent!

And Maria kept on weeping, while replying that she probably would never be able to defend herself.

My mother finnaly calmed down, hugged Maria and they stayed like that for a long time. I could hear my mother still talking to her. I got bored and left.

Weeks went by.

One day, Maria arrived early in the morning, and she had a strange look in her eyes. A huge smile in her face. And she wanted to talk to my mother first thing!

- Oh, Dona Violeta, she started, you will not believe what happened.

And she cracked up laughing. Out of control. Maria laughed!!

- He tried again last night, Dona Violeta. We were in the back yard and he came on to me, furious. He was so drunk and mad, Dona Violeta. I remember what you told me, I ran and grabbed a piece of fence post that was laying there! And I beat him, Dona Violeta! I beat the SHIT out of him!! I beat him so bad that the neighbour came and took the stick out of my hand, saying that if I did not stop, I was going to kill him!  Oh, Dona Violeta, it felt so good!!!!!!!! I LOVED it!!!!! I just LOVED it!!!!!

- Oh.... my Lord! A fence post????? ... What have I created? My mom said, in shock.

- Yes, ma'am! A big fence post! But it was so good, Dona Violeta! I remembered all the times he beat me so bad, and I gave him one for each of them! And she laughed again!

My mother took a deep breath (I bet she was scared!), and said:

- OK, Maria. You did defend yourself. A fence post is a bit too much, but you were defending yourself. Now, woman... you pay attention! Don't you get all excited and turn yourself into a killer... this is scary! I did not mean for you to kill the poor bastard, just defend yourself! Do you hear me??

- No, ma'am! Don't worry about that! This morning (stop to laugh), I treated his wounds (stop to laugh again), and told him this is how things are going to be from now on. I threatened him and told him he will never try that again, because the next time, there will be no neighbour to hold me back!

- And?

- He was so scared, you should have seen him. Meek as a lamb. Oh, and I told him to get that shit fence fixed once and for all. I bet it will be fixed when I get home tonight. And I told him I would keep that post hidden, just in case!

Maria worked for us for years, after that. She never showed up bruised again.

The fence was fixed.

From time to time, my mom would ask her:

- Have you thrown that fence post away, Maria?

- Nope! It is still there. And he is behaving as goooood as he shooooould!


Note: Sorry for any mistakes. "Check Spelling" is out of comission again!