The Meeting Place

Housework and other disturbances

It’s housework day. Well, it’s not, but I’m a bit out of synch with the days so today has become the housework day for this week.

I don’t mind housework. I have a system and can knock it over in a few hours. My wife directs from the wet areas and I stay with the monotony of Hoovering and mopping, earplugs secured and keeping in rhythm with life and Brad Mehldau

But today I am a little out of sorts. I have a strange feeling in my groin and a slight disturbance in my cerebral cortex. A premonition, perhaps. Something pending. Then I remember. The gas man cometh. I ran out while cooking dinner two days ago, right in the middle of a critical moment in culinary activities resulting in less than perfect cuisine for Her Ladyship.

The doorbell rings. I didn’t hear it over the drum solo. Christine hollers and signals wildly. Bugger. Did I unlock the gate? Can he get into the driveway? Do I owe him money? Did I put the dog in? Forget the last one. I don’t have a dog for reasons best known to me.

I drop the nozzle, hurdle over the humming Hoover and head for the door. Where are my keys? No time to look. I head for the garage and press the remote to open the door.  

As the door rises majestically into the garage ceiling like a curtain on prom night I peer into the front yard. A foot appears from around the corner to the front door followed by a lean trouser leg, then another foot and leg, attached to a neat arse, a white shirt and a cerulean blue tie neatly ties and tucked beneath a smiling, youthful face.

F#$k! Mormons. 

Before I had a chance to retreat another similarly dressed young man appears from aforementioned corner. I should have known. There is always at least two, sometimes more, never just one. I waited momentarily for anything in a floral dress or dark suit to appear.

“Good morn......” 

The first youth was still smiling, his Snow White teeth glistening in the morning sun like an Osborne child in mid concert. 

Now, this hasn’t been the first calling I’ve had. My house is in a street between suburbs and people of all sorts use it for a walking passage way between the shops and the park. When I say all sorts I mean the likes of dog walkers (one of the reasons I don’t have a dog) shoppers, residents, children to and fro from school, the dog catcher, the occasional policeman, and thieving brats from the adjacent suburbs looking for easy game and a door off the latch (hence the policeman). So it not unusual to have hawkers, collectors and varying religious personnel looking at my welcome mat and thinking, for some obscure reason, I need insurance, make a contribution or find God.

Generally speaking I’m a polite sort of bloke. I’m under strict and explicit instructions from the lady of the house to be so. On occasions I’ve been known to turn the hose on a squatting dog on my nature strip, chastise a child for hiding in my bushes or suggesting to the postman to take better aim with my bills, but generally it’s a nod from me and a nod from them who pass.

But there’s something about Mormons.  

I know. I’m going down the generalisation path I advise others not to take. I’m being intolerant and disrespectful. I’m not allowing others to have their say or believe what they want.

Well, you’re right.  

I’ll tell you what annoys me, shall I?  

Firstly, it’s the clothing. I live in the tropics. It’s hot and humid. No-one here wears a tie, and I mean no-one. Even the politicians leave the tie in the wardrobe unless they are spending the day seated in the air conditioned comfort of parliament.

Secondly, I’m an atheist. No, more than that. I’m an anti-theist. I don’t really care for the beliefs of others but they had better not bring it to my door.

Thirdly, I’ve just been interrupted. My karma was already in some sort of turmoil when I woke. Now it’s been completely destroyed.

Fourthly, of any religion, this one takes the cake. Devised by a bloke called Smith, claim the earth is about 4600 years old, deny any scientific evidence for evolution, and immortal life (which might be a solution to our ageing but I doubt it).

Fifthly, I hate being disturbed when I’m busy.

As a result of these minor irritants of mine and my quick wit and timing, I drew breath, braced myself against the closing roller door and yelled, for all the world to hear .....

“Oh, f&#$ off and don’t darken my door again or I’ll set the Rottweiler on you”.

And as the roller door slid into its resting position and I headed back to my Dyson I thought pleasant thoughts and the karma slowly returned to its resting place; a small patch of grey matter nestled safely in the hypothalamus or pituitary or where ever it  resides.

Then I remembered. I don’t have a Rottweiler. Maybe I should get one for next time.


Ran out of gas?? must be tough living in a caravan! You really need to get that bike, ride out of town. A housewife's work is never done LOL

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We don’t have the convenience of gas piped to the house here in Darwin. Just a bottle. Sounds primitive but it works. 


Nothing like dancing along to the music while we dust, vacuum and mop :)

I had 2 visitors recently from Jehover’s Witnesses. They presented the Watchtower, saw the look on my face and quickly departed. I wasn’t sorry at the time but was later. I would have liked to invite them inside to discuss/argue (vehemently?) about LGBTIQA+ rights. Next time :))))........

                                   Image result for housework cartoon funny    Wonder if this is true ?

Yep, housework can be fun with fringe benefits!

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.... be more fun if the guy was naked! Imagine that?  (maybe not)    lololololol  :) 

Nah Abe, he hasn't got the moves like

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?? OSMOND child as in Donny or Marie? Or OSBORNE as in Black Sabbath offspring?

Think it's Ozzy. He's got snow white chompers and he's Mormon.

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Using both vacuums at once eh? Hoover in one hand and Dyson in the other . Well done, browny points for sure!

Never let the left hand know what the right hand is doing, law of the jungle lol

There are   2 optioms. You can be polite and  tell them that you are not interested or simply no go to the door. Second options always works for me Jue rememeber they are just people selling their views

HI KB,    have to disagree with you there,    they are not just seeling their views,   they try to FORCE them onto you,   IM with THE DINGO on this one,  they are bloody pests,  if i were DINGO,,    id  go get that ROTTY,    they might come back,    they have learned not to call here,   [praise the lord]lol  

When I lived in my old house, years ago, two young Mormon men called to have a chat. I told them I had my own views on religion and respected theirs, they asked if they could say a prayer instead, I said it would be very nice. We all went away happy. I couldn't be rude to them.