Author: Rene

Well, the mule was not Sal but moi. And it wasn’t 15 miles, it was 15 gallons.

Last night we had not the gentle rains and nurturing moisture of a good soaking. We had a deluge. Thankfully, whilst speaking with “Piana,” I suddenly recalled the last deluge and my slowness-to-action. I ran to the basement and saw the beginnings of the canal. My friend graciously forgave me for jumping into “swab the deck” mode.

Bucket and mop acquired, along with all of the beach towels I own, I spent an hour sponging up water on the tiles in front of the basement door, keeping the water from the carpet. 15 gallons. Praying for the waters to part. Considering the amazing workout I was getting. Thinking about how I was going to create a new drainage diversion next week. Wondering why my spouse was gone for both episodes? Remembering that moisture is a good thing here. We Coloradans know that within three days we will have crevasses the size of a small nation in the backyard.

The other upside? My buried rosaries should sink in. Oh – and forgive me! If you have a broken rosary, I am happy to bury it on my boulevard. Off to play water engineer in the yard!

Perhaps these are not the thoughts of spring and summer we normally entertain. Flowers, birds chirping, green lawns, people walking dogs, are much more preferable musings. We have other issues.

Yesterday I was taunted by five squirrels for over two hours. Let me tell you, nothing gets me out of bed faster than a squirrel on my roof! I have rodent repellent which I’ve dutifully sprayed nightly and which “appeared” to work. No. I was only lulled into thinking I was successful. They came back in full force! They brought friends! I actually went out and sprayed one of the little mischief makers, speaking with him. “Now you’ll be ostracized!” I said. It didn’t stop them from nibbling a new spot on the siding of my house.

I promptly came in and went online and ordered solar-sonic repellent aids. They have a guarantee. Hm. They cost enough, but less than residing the house. I refrained from the poison. I’d really rather use ammunition, but as you know, I’d need a new ocular prescription.

However, I am not above poisoning the ants at the back door of the garage, who managed to arrive yesterday for another summer visit. I really wouldn’t have thought much about nature ganging up on me until I received my husband’s text prior to boarding his plane in the afternoon. “We have a large hole dug at the base of a one of the pines on the driveway.”

Seriously? I threw a smoke bomb down there and prayed it wouldn’t ignite a brush fire in the neighborhood.

My cheap dollar store readers are probably in need of replacement. The kitchen pair is always greasy and splotchy, the purse pair scratched from being thrown in there next to its case, and the upstairs by-the-bed pair hanging on for dear life from being slept on occasionally. There are other pair.

The emergency pair in the credenza at church – that one is a prescription strength too weak. The pair atop my jewelry armoire is super cute, but an old even weaker prescription. It is the reason I can wear an unmatched pair of earrings on occasion. The piano pair works. I just don’t play that well.

It may be time to invest $5 and up the game around here. It’s always a gamble, because I might see more than I want to!

No, I did not consumer the margarita mix, nor smoke the cigars and eat the chocolate. Just added some beauty to the kitchen. Next on the agenda…facial upgrade!

Well, I came home from a mini-shopping excursion. Of course, I placed all of the vegetables in the fridge, but the margarita mix sat on the counter. In keeping abreast of home decor, I appropriately placed it within my ornamental tray which already held the other items. (Obviously, a story to go with each individual item.) I think this theme says, “Party, anyone?” Perhaps, “No children live here?” “Desperate times call for desperate measures?” “I’m bored.”

I probably should have purchased fruit instead, but the mix is “light.” Besides, my tequila was getting lonely.

…is my mother.

I received a catalog in the mail a few weeks ago. I set it aside, but then perused it. Twice. The publication arrived because I had researched an article of clothing for my mother from this supplier and had subsequently purchased it. They had my address. They had my number!

“Oh, look. These Bermuda shorts are kind of cute.” You already know I own two pair of shorts and one is threadbare. “Oh, this is a skort! I love skorts!” My last skort obviously shrunk over the years and no longer occupies my closet. “What? Look at the wide straps on this brassiere. That is amazing.”

I placed an order. My mother is smiling.

Yesterday I wore a shift. A house dress. Something my grandmothers wore back in their days of cooking and cleaning and tending their respective farms. However, they usually had an apron as additional adornment, and I did not.

It was my throwback day for sure, as I did five loads of laundry beginning early, planted my flower pots, mowed the property (with only one drip line casualty!) and cleaned the bathrooms, all in my flouncy frock. The only thing I didn’t do was bake bread.

This really isn’t an uncommon phenomenon. I tend to do most of the mowing and lawn care in a skirt or dress. A quirk of nature? Probably the fact that I really only have two pair of shorts – thus the need for the laundry day.

My “Inner Grandma” is thriving, and I am grateful for those wonderful models in my life. Heading out to channel some more ancestors.

I repost because it ranks up there with “The Hallelujah Chorus” mishap in my world. Thankfully, I am no longer scrambling to provide a sack lunch.

The weekly assembly of the Deck Divas brought to mind a fun little trick you can play on one of your friends. BTW, the Deck Divas are also known as “The Winks,” short for “Hoodwinks,” a derivative of “neighborhood hijinks.” They are also the instigators of the Covid Cantina nights. Truly, they are influencers in our modern world. The meeting just reminded me of the silly names I enjoy bantering about.

A harmless little antic you can employ at Starbucks is to be the first one to place your order for a regular cup of coffee and to buy your friends’ fancy drink. Give a false name to the Barista, such as “Nugget, Smarty Pants, Juice Box.” You will receive your plain old cup of Joe immediately, but the fancy drink will require effort. You must leave your friend alone to retrieve her drink when the Barista loudly proclaims, “Old Amethyst, your drink is ready.” Heads will turn, cheeks will redden, and you can have a cheerful chuckle.

Spreading the love here at Wink World.