Author: Rene

Yesterday I drove to Target, parked my car, got out, and then turned around and got back in my car and drove home. It was apparently a practice run.

That’s the basic story of what happens when your wallet is not in your purse and is on the floor of the closet. I know – I do not have Apple Pay on my phone or the Target app. The thing is, I needed vanilla ice cream for my homemade peach pie, but when I got back home, I realized I could make homemade whipped cream.

I guess I didn’t need Target to save the day after all. I did it all by myself.

Out and about yesterday, I was privy to the new fall fashion line-up. The word which best sums it up is, “cute.”

By “Fall Collection,” I refer to my granddaughter’s upcoming wardrobe choices! I was over at her house dropping some things off and had the chance to rock her to sleep in her nursery. As I sat there I viewed the stunning array of cuteness. “Snuggle this Muggle,” was her onesie choice of the day.

My “fall collection” is basically a series of bruises and scrapes, the latest acquired emptying the dishwasher. It was a two-adhesive bandage injury. The deep purple is just my accent color.

Well, I was gratefully on duty yesterday, so I really didn’t expect to see anyone other than my angelic grandchild and her parents.

My husband is used to seeing my mess, thrown up on my head and clipped out of my eyes. And really, it didn’t matter. However, after my wonderful son-in-law showed up to claim his child, and after we transported the goods, I had the opportunity to gaze at my visage.

Bad news. I need a haircut.

Good news. I know how to cut hair! Just a little skill I picked up via a “Krafty” friend in college. It’s good to employ those abilities and stay fresh. Bonus – I don’t charge for the service. However, cheerful banter is accepted.

Yesterday my daughter did some work over here, and I managed to hold a baby and play some bridge with a few friends who juggled their schedules to make a game.

Anyway, upon my daughter departing she could not find her sunglasses. “Perhaps one of your friends accidentally took them,” she mused. “I’ll send a missive,” I replied as I stuck my hand in my 13-pocket overalls.

Voila! I had them in there. Suddenly, I was reminded of the time I had to send three pair of reading glasses back to my mother.

Giving all visitors fair warning. I’m collecting.

Sunday night we enjoyed our neighbor’s company on the deck, chatting and regaling each other with witty banter. In between the fun stories, my friend shared a tale of her sister-in-law’s misfortune.

Apparently a cleaning company had gone into their Scottsdale home and found inches of water from a malfunctioning refrigerator’s ice machine. Major damage requiring some gutting! The question of why that story came up, was answered Monday morning. I went to grab the blueberries for my breakfast, and voila! Ice build-up in the fridge.

Well, what else do you do on Labor Day? We “defrosted” our frost-free fridge, emptying it and cleaning it out. It wasn’t a bad exercise, as we probably needed to revisit a few expiration dates. Luckily, I found my pickled beets. Bonus!

We are back in business this morning, successfully de-icing. Beets for lunch!

Every fall I am taken aback. I have seasonal allergies. Apparently I have a short term memory on that, as I end up appalled when I begin sneezing incessantly and using a box of tissues daily. “Oh yeah. Ragweed.”

It takes a few weeks, but I get back in the swing of pills and Neti-pot use. (Thanks for that reminder, Sis.) However, when I begin praying for an early freeze, it is a clue that fall is upon us and I am done being miserable.

I’m setting my phone reminder for August 15th, 2022…just to begin the “mitigation of allergies” season. Maybe I’ll remember I have issues?

Well, the squirrels don’t seem to be doing anymore damage. Much to my dismay, we now have a family of woodpeckers residing in our backyard, each choosing their own tree.

In the spring I am used to hearing them rat-a-tat-tat on the flashing around the chimney. Why in the world would they decide to choose my yard this particular year for their residence? They did have a go at the chimney a few days ago. And as I write this a squirrel is climbing my pear tree.

It’s always something.

Yesterday my husband and I biked to breakfast. While dining, we met a charming five-year old named Madeline Elaine. She was proudly wearing her ballet slippers, twirling and chatting and just being cute.

Of course, I told her I was a tap dancer. I had to show her, obviously. Unfortunately I had tennis shoes on, not clicky shoes on the cement floor. It was only later in the day that I recalled I had also done a tap dance 32 years ago on that same day – at our wedding!

Maybe I’ll dig the shoes out and see if I can muster a few steps from my routine to, “In the Mood.” Friday fun.

Bath and Body Works sent me an email telling me I could, “Hold on to summer memories.” With a candle. Of all the seasons where I am least likely to burn a candle, it would be in the heat of summer. Thus, I don’t think I have any memories that would be encompassed in the scent of a candle?

Surprisingly, I actually looked at the missive. Most of the time I spend the first few minutes in my account just deleting without investigation. Occasionally I take the time to open an email so that I can successfully unsubscribe from the marketing. Unfortunately, if the scent were “forest fire” and the color a faded grey-barely blue, that would definitely remind me of this summer and the hazy skies we have.

So today I am grateful for the rain and am holding onto the hope of fire containment in the West, wishing the waters in Hurricane Ida’s wake could be transported, and sending prayers to all affected by the elements.