In Absence of Your Presence

July 23rd, 2010

Dear Phyllis,

I am writing to lay to rest any fears you you may harbor about things sliding around here in your absence. I know you are of the mind that men, if left unchecked, would shortly find themselves ignoring even the most rudimentary of domestic duties opting, instead, to float about in a pond of dirty dishes and beer cans which would all eventually conspire to lead them down the path to “no good.” Nope, other than a brief internet search into the supposed ramifications of auto-erotic asphyxiation(inconclusive) I have towed a pretty straight line here.

You will be pleased to know that even without your help I have made some serious headway in our battle against senseless spending. For instance, with nary any noticeable ill effects, I have easily halved our spending on such money eating items as: Laundry Soap, Dish Washing Liquid(do you know you can get pretty good results from the dishwasher on hot water alone?), Kitty Litter, and Cat Food. I am sure we will soon find that this has trickled down to some extra cash in our pockets.  All these savings will easily cover the price of our new Excalibur Dehydrator I just bought on line for only $329.00. I figured it was essential because already I count four pears and almost 12 tomatoes that are going to probably make it to harvest and need proper preserving. Nothing like dried fruit to sparkle up the winter months.

I will say, though it has been pretty busy doing the double shift and all, I am coping quite nicely. There are at least 18 guests here(last I counted). I have had to address a lot of things via email and, as you know, that sure can eat up a morning. I can’t believe the amount of time consumed just to set up a simple appointment and because we are busy these things just keep popping up all day. Though some would argue only part work related, I provide for your interest a smooth example of just how well I am handling the business correspondence end of the stick while you are away:

Dear Quoyle,

At some point, in the next hour or two in an effort to provide a course of moderation for the health inflicting smoothie I am working on and to provide a break from these fucking dogs, I plan on firing up the Weber with the intent of laying down the three 6 inch well marbled beef ribs I picked up yesterday from the grocery. Questions remain however; How long suggested cooking time? Are you available for a light(I have only three) afternoon snack best enjoyed with a cool refreshing febrifuge? I know your escape from domesticity is often difficult. Perhaps if I place an anonymous call indicating there has been a suspected break-in at your storage unit requiring your immediate attention you might be able to seize an hour or two?

Keep us posted shall we?


Then there is the inevitable reply……..

6″ beef ribs are going to need 2 hours of high, indirect heat (325º), augmented by an initial sear directly over the coals and finished over the coals with the application of some of the contents of the jar of Southwest glaze that i will bring over.

It will require that you feign assisting me in fixing my Coleman Hot Water unit which has a malfunctioning on switch that mechanical imbeciles like me are unable to deal with. Normally I would just throw it out and buy another, but the damn things are discontinued.

I would still have to return home and make dinner for my wife and pretend to be hungry.

Please advise.


Please advise? No he couldn’t just say, “I’ll be there at such and such a time.” And so it Continues;

Quoyle, based on your estimated cooking time and the fact that it is noon, let’s call it 2:30 to allow for the coals shall we?

And finally;

Kyle, Cya @2:30.

Cya? Cya @? Really, right now I am fighting the urge to spend a lengthy bit of time lecturing Quoyle on my opinions regarding the use of cheesy little “internet evolved” language shortcuts. I mean he only saved three letters and a space in this apparent need to condense his reply. What’s that,  3/4’s of a second out of his busy busy day? But I know if I say anything he is going to type back a sixteen paragraph reply justifying such prattle which I won’t be able to resist counter-attacking. Doesn’t he know I am working here? So to finish it off and get the show on the road, I simply write;

Quoyle, 2:30 it is. SEE YOU then.

See? Nothing to it. Though now, never having suspected the bait would be taken only to find it had, you can imagine I had some quick work to to. First off; figure out what exactly is a febrifuge? Because, as you know, liking the sound of a word doesn’t mean I’m completely sure of it’s meaning. Turns out, according to Oxford, concisely speaking, a febrifuge is not only a medicine or treatment that reduces fever but also a cooling drink. If I was going to sound not like an idiot who throws about words he is unsure of, I would need to concoct something both cooling and medicinal. These things take time. I settled on putting some fresh squeezed grapefruit juice along side some Compari (Pardon? Well yes, of course I had to go and buy a bottle of Compari now seeing as we didn’t HAVE any)and shook that with a bunch of ice. It then seemed only logical to pour this over a couple glasses half filled with Prosecco. Man, I’m gonna tell you, had I been afflicted with the nasty scourge of a fever as I, no doubt, one day will be, this beverage, febrifuge really, would have chased it into next year. And two? Permanently erased.

When not handling all of this administrative malarkey I have been kept pretty busy just doing the same old hands on stuff. It’s amazing how much shit 18 dogs can pile up if you let a day or two pass. I am pleased to say the garden is faring well. Sinbad and I are getting along great. He is enjoying the new slimmer cat he is becoming and I am enjoying the diminished amount of time I have to spend cleaning out the litter box. I have trained both he and Lester to drink almost exclusively out of the toilet now. This is a relief. I was really starting to worry about how grungy their water bowl was becoming. Disgusting really. As a last note, and you might find this interesting, did you know, if you don’t clean out the kitty litter for a couple of days some wretched dog is bound to just go right in there and eat it?

General maintenance has not fallen along the wayside either. On Monday I spent almost 6 hours dissecting the espresso machine for it really had been in a state of poor performance. You won’t believe the difference!

Anyway, all this to say, I miss you and hope you and Constance are having a good time in light of the circumstances. Please don’t worry about a thing for if anybody has your back, I, Kyle P. Dresden do(does? Beats me).

Seriously baby. Come home. I miss you,

Love Kyle

P.S. Alder’s owners have extended his stay and he has escalated his food aggression behavior and Chai smells like foot fungus and is leaving trails of mystery liquid where she sleeps. I am running dangerously low on bleach.

P.S.S. The mosquitoes have really calmed down so I decided to brave dining out on the patio this evening(boil in a bag chicken pot pie if you were interested). I made it almost five minutes before they started working themselves into the side of my eyeballs which made for dangerous swatting what with holding the knife and fork and all. I tried just squishing them by slamming my eyelids in a karate chop-like fashion but this was no real solution and besides it gave the impression I had Tourette Syndrome cause, along with the blinking, I was swatting at my head and saying “fuck” a lot. Thinking not to alarm the passing cars I finished up inside. Still five minutes……I think we are over the hump.

2 Responses to “In Absence of Your Presence”

  1. Quoyle

    Kyle baby, you know I love you like a brother, but get some fucking glasses my friend. My “cya” reply was sent from my iPhone where I grudge ever single character my Snickers Bar fingers have to type.
    I didn’t realize it was Campari in the drink, I though it was Quinine due to the Malaria potential from all those damn mosquitos. I think you should patent the concoction and sell it to Smith Glaxo asap.
    Thanks for the light lunch

  2. admin

    Begging the question, if you were using your iBone why wouldn’t one just call? But moving right along, I am down to but 24 hours before Phyllis makes her re-entrance. I have been thinking about your desire to pair a moderately priced Zinfandel with the likes of pulled pork……So as you might say in a contracted sort of way owing to a lack of digital dexterity, ifurup4it & b4 it’s btb i suggest you schedule an hour or two this aftrn%n to arrive at an acceptable solution to this quandary.
    cyaL8r garber…..i mean allig8r..or t8tr…or whatever. %;———-;’ Look it’s a Dachshund.

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