Live! From the studios of GVW Media Productions...It's the Yard Yeti Radio Show! (Cue the Noon whistle!)
"Tick tock goes the clock...time won't stand still. But we can...let's catch up."
It's Yard Yeti Time!
It's me, your favorite Not Yet A Yeti, clad in my yellow wellies with my pet parakeet Pepper perched on my shoulder. He is wearing a sun bonnet today as the temperatures are sweltering. I think he suffers from a touch of sunstroke, as his cough is not responding to his normal medicinal dose of Jack Daniels, so he is sipping from a salt-rimmed frozen Margarita. Uh. Oh. Brain freeze. We pause for a little avian resuscitation. Annnnd we are back.
A little bit woozy and boozy, but then aren't we all now and then.
The Weather Report. Blazing. Blistering. Brutally boiling. Scorching. Searing. Sweltering. Sweaty. Torrid. Feverishly sweating and panting. Very warm and close and...(cue the sound effect of me clearing my throat with a sip of Pepper's Margarita). A bit off topic. Tsk. Tsk. Let's just say that all of these above normal temperatures, rainless days and nights are tough on a Not Yet A Yeti dressed in ankle to knee rubber boots, slathered in SPF936, sun hat on head, whispering sweet nothings to a wilted group of greenery. Hot! The weather is HOT! And, as we are an environmentally friendly radio studio, the only Air Conditioning is an open window and Pepper's breath on my neck.
The Traffic Report. A look out the window. Sweaty road crews. We have had sweaty road crews spreading tar for the past two weeks. Let me revise that. The first week they smashed up the curbs with jack hammers and left all the pieces in a pile. That is, one man, in a bobcat, ran the jack hammer and three hundred OTHER men, stood around watching him and hoping for a turn. The next week, they returned and poured some black stony stuff (technical name: black stony stuff) in piles. The following week they laid out about three thousand orange cones in some sort of landing strip for alien spacecraft. Let me simply say here, for the record, that if the Yard Yetis had secured the contract for this project, it would have been finished on the first day. Yard Yetis are known for their singular focus, organizational and time management skills, manual dexterity and the ability to multi-task on a very few hours of sleep. In other words, Yard Yetis are WOMEN.
Before the commercial break, a few words about the Yetis. The Yard Yetis are known only by the yellow wellied footprints they leave behind. The women of the garden, dignified by their high top boots, gloved hands and flouncy garb. The garden warriors able to wrestle weeds with one hand and nurture tiny seedlings with the other. Women fiercely dedicated to protecting their turf. Slathered in sunscreen, slightly potty, surprisingly certain and certainly certifiable. Women with tools. Fearless in the face of fevered foliage and frenzied ferns, waging war with vermin, pestilence and drought.
Yard Yetis are rarely spotted in the wild due to their cleverness with camouflage and the serious secretiveness of their tightly knit society. Yard Yetis come in every color, size and shape. There is no age restriction as Yard Yetis are seasoned seasonal workers. Ripe. Ripened with either age or experience. Not "older". Using the word "older" makes a Yeti a teensie bit crabby. You might end up with a poison ivy bouquet in your shorts, but that only happened once, and we were all terribly ashamed.
Actually, I referred to the incident on my last show, when I hinted at Gladys Gerbera's unfortunate tussle with Pepper, my pet parakeet. All I can say is that Gladys does have some difficulty controlling her hot flashes and Pepper has been warned repeatedly about letting his gardening shorts sag in the back. Pepper has started wearing tight black biker pants, matching helmet, and with the exception of a few parakeet profanities, seems to be on the mend.
Now! A commercial break from one of our sponsors, Allen's Seed and Feed Company. I am proud to announce the winner of the "Who Grew The Biggest" contest. Beulah Anne Harvey exhibited her sixteen inch cucumber out by mile marker 72, and received the most votes plus a few rather rude anonymous crank calls and a visit from a drive-by flasher who yelled as he careened down the gravel shoulder, "Try to top this!". Beulah and her husband Wolfie celebrated her win at Milly's Maid Rite on Route 43. Thanks to all who participated and here's to another bumper crop next year.
I made a compilation tape of all my favorite Broadway tunes to share with you during our musical segment, but my eight track wouldn't fit in the floppy disc drive of my studio computer, so sing amongst yourselves. I am advertising for a new IT and Marketing Intern, so if you are current with all the new technology and branding strategies, be sure to contact me here at the studio on my landline. 1-800-IAMNOTOLD.
At last, the reason you all tune in, my special guest. Yard Yeti Extraordinaire, that Wanton, Wicked, Wild, Wily, Witty and Weird...Wanda Wisteria.
A little Wanda Wisteria Hysteria if you please!
Wanda is known to wave her arns when she speaks. Her face is always red and flushed. Her sentences end in exclamation points and she is known to create havoc and chaos wherever she goes. She is loud and extremely opinionated, but the very person I would want with me when tangled in the underbrush with no path out. A human threshing machine. Wanda can find her way out of any bad situation. She doesn't give up easily. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen her give up on anything or anyone. The sign of a true Yard Yeti.
Another show comes to a close. I lean down into the microphone whispering conspiratorially, my Not Yet A Yeti Sign Off..."Your secrets are safe with me, except for the ones I posted on the Internet". Tune in next week when my guest will be Fifi-Forget-Me-Not.
Say "good-bye" Pepper. Sorry. Pepper is indisposed. He is busy licking salt off his beak.
After the show, it is humid and sticky, and I need a cooling off walk down Main. I run my finger around my neck. I am hot under the collar of my T-shirt. Weather related hot. Uncomfortable in my own skin. The Not Yet A Yeti in me longs for a chill. A mild case of goose bumps. Wanda Wisteria is comfortable in her hot feisty self. It was not always this way. Wanda was once so peaceful and placid, her features froze. I shiver at the thought. How did she go from HERE to THERE? Once upon a time, Wanda was afraid to move. To feel or to think, for herself, or for anyone else. So she didn't. She hid. Inside her house. Behind her mask. Terrified of making a scene. Until the day the sun shone on her face and she melted.
Chapter 5 | Chapter 7