Tag Archives: summer heat

The Call of the Honey Do

“Di Di?”

Uh-oh. Do you know what that sound is?  It’s not the mockingbird who lives in our front tree (although that bird is crazy enough to copy it if it hears it often).

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It’s the Honey Do Call that my husband makes–now that we know what his tell is.  It means he has a project that requires my presenceassistance.  It is disguised as a request for company:

“Di Di, will you sit in the garage with me?”

Oh, no. Not the garage.

But The Husband is cute, really cute.  That cuteness somehow sucks me into the garage before my survival instincts can kick in and make me escape from the house. The moment I stepped into the garage I was a goner.

It’s too late for me.  Save yourselves!

“Di Di.  Will you come with me to the store?”

Run away! Run away!

Oh, I can handle the store, I thought to myself.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  I knew I should have run away when I had the chance when we pulled into the parking lot of the auto parts store.

The Husband bought front shocks for our little old pickup truck.  We bought it the year after we got married.  It’s 19 years old.  Our neighbor calls it the “little red wagon”–even though it isn’t red–because we use it well.

Shocks?  I’m shocked.  First, he doesn’t work on his own cars anymore.  Second, the ride has been bumpy for years, why fix it now?

In the garage, “keep me company” becomes “please hand me the blah, blah, blah” (don’t expect me to name the tools) and leads to “adjust the jack like this” and then finally “help me push this shock into place.”

For someone who was going to watch idly, I was covered in car grime.

Fast forward a few weeks…

“Di Di?”

Run for your life!

This time he completely tricked me into going to the auto parts store.  I don’t know how I missed the signs.  I should have seen the red flags and fled the scene when I got the Honey Do call.  Surely, one of the kids needed me right at that moment.

The rear shocks were much easier to get into place, but it was hot as Hades in the garage.  Who decides to work on his car in the garage in the Texas summer? (That’s a rhetorical question, of course.)

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I see the truck differently now…

We cleaned off the grime and went for a ride in the little 19-year-old pick up truck.  There are no handles above the windows.  I like to call this handle the “Oh, crap!” handle.  (I like to keep this blog rated PG.  I usually have a different name for it.)

Whatever you do, don’t get in that truck!

The truck recovered so well that we were thrown all over the small cab.  Why didn’t they put “Oh, crap!” handles in this thing?  Did they not know my husband was going to be driving it?

Then it dawned on me that riding in the truck is now the best abdominal core workout ever.  Go around the block again, Honey!

If I’d known, I would have been in the garage a long time ago calling, “Honey, will you keep me company out here?”

And the hunter becomes the hunted.

What’s on your honey-do list? 🙂

The “Honey Do” Tell #1

In my first post, I made it clear that I’m not a mermaid.  In this post, I’m introducing a series about a certain thing my husband does.  He’s cute and I love him.

A “Honey Do” list includes stuff that needs to get done around the house. (“Honey, do this.  Honey, do that.”)

A tell is the body language or key phrase someone uses that indicates to others that he is up to something.  In poker, a tell will call a player’s bluff or give away her hand.   In football, a quarterback’s body language might “tell” the play he’s going to run and result in a sack.  I don’t play either, but I like to watch to see if I can spot the tells.

Together, the terms create the “Honey Do” tell.  I’m pretty sure everybody has one.

My husband has one.  It’s one word (his nickname for me) and an innocent sounding request.  Listen closely.  Here’s how his “Honey Do” tell starts:

“Di Di?”
Translation:  Diana, where are you?

“Di Di?”
Uh, oh.  Repetition with increased volume is translated this way:  Diana, please assist me.

Are you wondering how I got all that from his calling only my name?  Easy answer.  We’ve been married for 20 years.  I’ve heard it a few times.  It’s also the only time he calls me that.

“Will you unlock the back gate for me, please?”
Translation:  I’m about to mow the lawn.

Digging deeper, I know that he really means:  You are about to help me mow the lawn, so change into mowing clothes.

Diana Beebe

The yard begging for me not to mow it.

Next week, the teenager who usually mows our lawn will be back from vacation.  I’ll be SO happy, and the yard won’t have so many mohawks.

I thought about my husband’s “Honey Do” tell as my hands got tingly from the vibration and the mower chewed up little, inedible onions from the garden.  The yard smells yummy.  It made me wonder if raw onions might serve as an organic mosquito repellent.

Diana Beebe, dianabeebe, fantasy author; science fiction;

White, yellow, and red onions from our garden. These are edible.

My husband finished the edging and blowing before I finished the mowing, which gave him time to cool me off with a “spritz” from the hose.  Really?  OK, well, it was 100 degrees, so I didn’t mind–until the spritz became a squirt of cold water.  In all honesty, I didn’t mind that either.  It was too flipping hot.  It’s worth repeating that he’s cute.

As soon as I could, I looked up information about using onions to repel mosquitos.  I got mixed results.  Some sites mentioned onions as a possibility but expressed doubt. I found these two sites that suggest that onions might indeed repel the pesky insects:

Very nice.  I learned something new in the middle of a honey-do moment and created a possible mosquito deterrent with onion mulch.

“Di Di? Will you keep me company in the garage?”
Oh, no.  Here we go again.  I’ll tell you about this one later.

I have to admit that my first reaction is almost always, “Oh, no, what is he up to now?”  However, I can always look back at the honey-do moment and find something to appreciate.  For Honey Do Tale #1, I learned that onion mulch might repel mosquitos.

Do you have a “Honey Do” tell?  Perhaps your spouse, partner, child, parent, or friend has one.   I’d love to hear your honey-do tales.