tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3961030632162481122024-03-19T08:27:21.078-04:00Tim Somero's BlogThe Life and Times of a New Hampshire guyTim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-488115234300946692013-12-26T11:49:00.001-05:002013-12-26T11:49:16.060-05:00Jack
Jack
Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-73290098012432652152013-12-26T11:26:00.000-05:002013-12-26T11:26:08.782-05:00The make believe language moduleMy 91-year old aunt and 77-year old bachelor uncle work through the daunting task of installing a replacement, hearing-aid-friendly telephone.Reaching out, the pair calls my house. 'Are you available to help install the phone?'My wife and infant son are with me, listening.'Sounds ok to me, are you talking to me on the new phone?''Yes.''Hmm, let's call each other a few times to test it.''Ok.'Ring,Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-55323838576954709962011-12-27T10:56:00.004-05:002011-12-27T13:37:44.051-05:00Best Christmas Present Ever'Are you getting cheese on your Whopper Jr.?'No. I never get the cheese.'Why not? It tastes good.'I don't like it.'You don't like it?'Ok, what I mean is I don't like the marked up price for a slice of cheese.'Huh?'Twenty cents for a slice of cheese when I could buy a whole package for a dollar.'Right.'For 40 years, I never bought the cheese so now we can afford our honeymoon.After I allocated my Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-33486534022508604862011-04-16T06:47:00.002-04:002011-04-16T07:06:14.309-04:00Carrots'Why are those carrots there?'I look to the ottoman and see a huge bag of carrots.'My roommate.'Huh?'Last November, my roommate decided to get healthy so he bought that bag of carrots.'Ok, it's April now.'Yeah, I know, but he pulled the carrots out of the fridge a few days ago.Eyebrows furrow.'So he takes a carrot out of the bag, slimy, slightly soft, and tries it. It's no good. Looks like he Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-57411131684658818292011-03-27T13:51:00.002-04:002011-03-27T14:17:03.188-04:00Change Springs in the Raspberry PatchLast year I left a job undone in my raspberry patch. I dead headed the southern slope of the patch and the northern side was left in thick messy brambles.I start on the north side today and at high noon lose interest before going inside. Inner resolve drives me so after an Internet conversation with my cousin, I return to the patch.First, I collect dead, dry vines into piles.I look at the patchTim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-89948805103805223432011-03-27T08:45:00.002-04:002011-03-27T08:52:43.570-04:00Of Mice and Eggs'I grew up on a farm.''A big farm?''No. We had chickens. A farm down the road had cows. We had enough chickens for eggs.'I smile.'I saw some of the strangest things. Before school, I check to see if there is enough food and water for the chickens.'One morning, I peer into the hen house and we mounted apple boxes on the wall for the hens to lay eggs. And you know, shavings on the floor.'The Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-61066228090659990612011-03-13T11:00:00.001-04:002011-03-13T11:02:57.509-04:00Book ListMy new ambition is to read again and people are suggesting titles. Rather than let them drift away, here's a start of my book list:Left Neglected by Lisa GenovaBlink by Malcolm GladwellTim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-71492118023688947072011-03-06T14:28:00.003-05:002011-03-06T14:51:16.558-05:00Toothbrush Story'Why do you have two empty tubes of anti-itch cream by your sink?''I use that stuff for hives.''Yeah, but why two empty tubes?''Cause if I run out, I slice open the tube and there's enough to get by with.''I threw them away.''Ok.''Why did you have two empty things of deoderant by your sink?''Cause I throw them in my bag for weekend trips, and throw the deoderant away before I come home. Don't Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-14474823922432842752011-02-27T21:34:00.002-05:002011-02-27T21:37:09.147-05:00Avoiding WorkI lived in Minnesota during my 20s and this timeless story springs from that era.My future brother-in-law sleeps in.His phone rings.He answers.'Yeah?''This is work. Is that you? Are you coming in to work today?''No.''Why NOT?''Cause I'm stupid.'The phone clicks back into its cradle.Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-28882825866430194942011-01-14T13:31:00.002-05:002011-01-14T13:47:00.148-05:00Playground LunchThe cafeteria where I am working sells fish on Friday. Delicious. I typically buy two servings of fish along with rice and vegetables.Today, they serve cod.The happy checkout lady notices a business card fall from my wallet and mentions it.'Thanks, I saw it fall, too. Two pieces of cod.'They're real small, but looks good doesn't it?'Very good.' I nod.I pick a fork and napkin and go to a table Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-87588849732490868092011-01-12T22:44:00.003-05:002011-01-12T23:26:00.553-05:00If you make that shot, I will...Facebook takes me down memory lane and tonight a classmate chats with me. In a different chat window, an online friend asks me about her and I smile into my computer screen.In high school, I played basketball as often as I could and a few one on one partners stand out, including my classmate.'Hey Tim.''Yeah?'If you make that shot, I'll pull down my pants.'Huh?'Ok, if you make that shot three Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-19697900123431008892011-01-04T21:24:00.003-05:002011-01-04T21:37:33.329-05:00You're Getting Old TimMy mouth open, waiting, a bright light at the bottom of my peripheral vision.'You're getting old, Tim.' He says, 'Give Tim the mirror so I can show him what's going on.'The dental hygenist hands me the mirror as Dr. Giaimo prods my teeth, 'See that hole there? The enamel is wearing off and there's only dentin. So you can expect sensitivity from time to time like you had.''I'll have to fix thatTim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-84679913615569674052010-12-20T21:01:00.003-05:002010-12-20T21:11:37.596-05:00Winter of Sorrow AnewI feel passionate about a local school issue so I went to the school board meeting tonight.Afterward, I talked with two of my high school classmates. We discussed the educational issue, but the underlying story is our bad economy.'Timmy, I drive around New Ipswich all day and you wouldn't believe all of the foreclosure signs. The declining number of students say the same thing.'Reflecting on Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-60809864507594172652010-12-14T15:30:00.001-05:002010-12-14T15:46:15.785-05:00Remembering the Ice StormLast weekend was difficult and now a few days past, I maybe understand why.Two years and four days ago, I went to sleep during a lightning storm, losing power and cellphone service.I wake to the sounds of shot guns blasting one after the other. Boom...echo. Boom! echo.Confused, I stumble into my hallway and look outside to see a tree top explode and fall through crystalline ice branches and it Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-40519592002092792812010-12-11T09:19:00.002-05:002010-12-11T09:31:23.824-05:00Runt DiedI sprinkle layer pellets in the runs near each coop, pour the 50 pounds of feed into the feed barrel, and open the egg door on the big coop.I see Runt, dead, in the bedding.'Huh, Runt died.' I say quietly to myself.When she was 4 days old, the other chicks pecked her ear and made her bleed. I separated her so that she could heal. The other chicks didn't let her eat. She was at the bottom of Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-60969488111269086652010-11-28T11:42:00.002-05:002010-11-28T11:46:58.151-05:00Grey BeardI forced myself to take the entire Thanksgiving holiday weekend off. My ambition is to be so lazy that I stop shaving, too, and my beard slowly fills out over the weekend.Today I walk into the bathroom, ready to shower, looking in the mirror.Something is missing.I grin, 'Grey.'I lean closer to the mirror.'Yup. There they are.' I say softly to the mirror, chin jutting out for inspection, and I Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-52708197157539416212010-11-27T09:53:00.002-05:002010-11-27T10:00:06.510-05:00Hockey BabeWe see an attractive blonde woman at the top of the stairwell leading up to the first tier of the hockey stadium.She smiles at us.We smile back.She asks, 'Would you like to buy some tickets? One for a dollar or seven for five.''What's the prize?'She pinches the shoulder of her hockey jersey and shakes it gently, 'You win a hockey jersey like this one.''Do you come with the jersey?' My 73-year Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-1511008626205314342010-11-23T16:32:00.000-05:002010-11-23T17:00:49.706-05:00Business and FootballChris didn't talk. I met him in the first grade, but everyone said he didn't talk. Teachers occasionally huddled over him, voices gentle and high pitched, encouraging him to speak.He didn't.So in the third or fourth grade, I sat next to him a few times, waiting. Finally, we talked a little. 'Smart guy.' I thought. 'Fast runner. Understands stuff.'I store the information away.My dad's soft Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-87440806289155345402010-11-06T07:57:00.002-04:002010-11-06T08:25:09.479-04:00Drifting into WinterSuddenly, it's cold.Before I knew it, an early November rain gently swept most of the foliage off the trees.My roommate rearranged the living room so the couch is perpendicular to the picture window. Now as I relax lengthwise on the couch, my television image is the natural setting outside.I see a gentle breeze flutter dogged oak leaves. Steely blue clouds drift by that demonstrate the onset ofTim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-33341329619092780432010-10-14T16:52:00.002-04:002010-10-14T17:10:35.537-04:00The Finn ThingEvery so often I hear, 'Hey, it's Big Chief Many Turkey!' to which I close my eyes and grimace slightly admitting, 'Yup, that's me.'My half-Finnish friend and I are hunting turkeys one year at his house. The turkeys approach close, closer, closer. I dry fire. Load a shell. Closer, closer, closer.Wham!Four die. My face flushes white, devastated, mumbling, 'I can only shoot one. Oh no. Oh noTim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-91669563989554764472010-10-13T09:13:00.004-04:002010-10-14T16:46:50.573-04:00Falling ChipsSomeone read my blog recently and noted, 'You haven't posted recently. Any plans to?'The well-crafted question lingered in my thoughts for several weeks and I'll take a few minutes out of my recent entrepreneurial routine to share today.Before bed last night, I reached down to an open bag of white corn tortilla chips.Munch.The Internet enraptured me.Munch.I continued reading.Munch.'That's Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-62205555787511102922009-11-09T14:37:00.002-05:002009-11-09T14:45:18.144-05:00The Writer's DeskOne of my first cousin's married into the Blaine family that has roots in early American politics. Her father-in-law built this pine desk in the early 80s and somehow it migrated to my bedroom when I was a teenager.Many of my close friends were then, as they are now, living in the midwest USA, and I would spend hours huddled over the pine desktop with pen and paper corresponding with them.I cut Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-91361698200506853082009-11-06T15:01:00.002-05:002009-11-06T15:06:59.741-05:00I Have the Neatest FriendsI visited my friend and photography mentor, Al Tolman, this afternoon. I drove up his driveway, got out of the car and paused.Hmmm...that's a wild turkey standing near his doorstep.I waited. Al emerged from his house, 'Hey Tim.''What's her name, Al?''Tee Gee.''Huh?''Thanksgiving.' He smiles.'Uhm, are you going to eat it?''No. But cool name, huh?'The name Tee Gee pales to the coolness of Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-73377142916097343712009-10-23T13:34:00.003-04:002009-10-23T13:45:49.164-04:00Do you have a magnet?While talking on the phone, my uncle walks past my living room window and knocks on the door.'I have to go. I'll call you later.'My uncle walks in, 'Do you have a magnet?''Sure. Why?''I was mowing and my keys fell out of my pocket somewhere in my yard.''Well, I'm making lunch, but after I'm done, I'll help you look. I'm not sure where my big magnets are, but I could help you best if I look Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-396103063216248112.post-20709527220771026912009-10-21T10:36:00.003-04:002009-10-22T01:35:59.484-04:00The Pecking ReorderI open the egg door on my chicken coop and I see Molly gently extracting the yolk from an egg that Whipped Cream lay this morning.I sigh thinking, 'I was hoping this is why I wasn't getting eggs.''It's time.'I turn to the brooder where my two Americana hens are and I count back the months on my fingers, 'May, June, July, August, September, October...that's 20 weeks. It's time.'Soon I move the Tim Somerohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06382329236855113295noreply@blogger.com0