Author: Rene

Yesterday my sister and I treated ourselves to a “fast facial” experience. This sounded right up my alley, as time for proper skin and hair maintenance is never at the top of my list. A thirty minute “pick-my-skin-up” seemed just about right.

Usually a spa treatment will entail the sounds of the seashore as a backdrop, or a gentle rain falling, or light and airy piano music. It’s possible to drift off to slumberland with the gentle massaging hands of the esthetician, or to imagine you are on a beach with a soft breeze wafting ‘round. Those sixty-to-ninety- minute experiences always leave me feeling groggy and wanting to climb into bed right away though, and my eyes don’t want to adjust to the outside world again. Thus, thirty minutes seemed like a good plan.

When you have a “fast facial,” apparently you get the rapid tempo – Van Morrison and some country tunes mixed in! No falling asleep or imagining the seaside in that brief period of rejuvenation, just glowing and healthy skin and a spring in your step as you leave and purchase the-amazing-lavender-night-time-eye-cream-that-seemed-to-work-miracles-in-under-thirty-minutes. (It would have cost me less to splurge on an extra thirty minutes of “esthetizing.”)

Ah, when you notice me looking ten years younger you can credit Van and Amanda, the miracle-worker. All I have to do is remember to use the product in my simplified nightly ritual.

One of the fascinating articles carefully selected and sent to me in my newsfeed was titled, “How to Clean a Hummingbird Feeder in Five Easy Steps.”

There is a looming question in that one – five steps? Five steps is already three above “easy.” I didn’t bother to read the article because I have learned, after three feeder attempts, that the easiest way to clean one is to avoid putting one out.

It’s August again, and my Indian Paintbrush is drying up, the little flyers are visiting elsewhere, and the grasshoppers are starting to dine on the petunias. After I finish watering the bedraggled flowers, I am going to clean something else in five easy steps.

First step – make a list of what to clean. Second step – stand up. Third step – grab my water bottle for hydration during the big event. Fourth step – check email and phone for possible diversions from cleaning. Fifth step – hang the list on the refrigerator.

I do enjoy getting my steps in each day.

When you’re a new parent, your hopes and prayers are, “Please let her sleep longer.”

When you’re a new grandparent, your hopes and prayers are, “Please let her wake up soon so I can hold her!”

Just an observation from weeks of experience.

My daughter had a cute little project for me – sew some jingle bells on little felt wrist bands for her baby. I had the materials, so we cut and sewed, employing Velcro closures.

The first set turned into an ankle wrap for a six-year old, as the felt stretched too widely. When the second stab at it didn’t comply, I switched to elastic. The first elastic was cut too small, and then too large. So the second attempt produced ankle wraps again. After finally achieving a wrist and ankle pair of jingle bell entertainment, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Later that day, I was trying to convince my daughter that she and I could lay hardwood flooring in her home – like the women on the commercials do. She looked at me and said, “What makes you think we could do that if we couldn’t get a jingle bell bracelet right?”

Touche’.

It’s trash day. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle! The most amazing thing about trash day is the inconsistency of weekly trash. If just one person is absent for a couple of days – we really don’t have much refuse. How can one person and two days of absence result in such a piddly little amount? Hmmmm.

Speaking of trash, I took time last night to watch truncated portions of shows and movies I had dvr’d. Apparently I don’t have the time or attention span to complete an episode? I even had an unfinished “Little House on the Prairie” to watch. So, I viewed six different recordings. Delete!

Just getting the trash out.

Look who greeted me upon arrival home! This young buck just gazed at me as I unpacked the car. He’s part of the wildlife uptick in the ‘hood. The fox has been streaking through the backyards, and the hawk lazily flies by sporadically.

Unfortunately, two frisky squirrels were on the driveway yesterday, also. However, as long as they stay off my roof, I can live in harmony with them. I think my solar repellents are doing their work.

Nat Geo report of the week submitted.

Seriously, I had a quirky thought for today which now evades me, but in popped the continual musing about my sofa to occupy that precious space.

My sofa needs reupholstering or replacement. I like it though, antiquated and dilapidated as it looks. When I perused the “sea of sofas” in the Macy’s home furnishings department, I was struck by how lackluster they were in color. Nothing stood out, except the lime green accent chairs. Maybe the sofa is supposed to blend in to the decor, not be the crown jewel?

For now, I’ll continue to enjoy plopping on it and thinking about it and let the universe work out that dilemma.

Yes, I had a planned blog for Monday, but my duty arrived early. I was chosen to babysit!

Many things are amazing in that statement. Number one, I have quite a long “to do” list. Everything on it goes out the window when my granddaughter arrives. There is absolutely nothing more important. And then when she is here, I am convinced I can educate her properly in every way. We chat, we sing, we walk, we do all of that fun stuff I didn’t know I could regurgitate.

However, yesterday, I did employ some assistance, as evidenced by my photo. My lovely daughter left her precious cargo in my and my neighbor’s care. We took her on a journey in the stroller, and then we both sat outside while she continued to sleep, longer than we thought. Thus, we kept the emergency bottle properly chilled.

It is probably a wiser use for the bucket. I think we passed the babysitter test.

Oh, I couldn’t resist. My husband pointed this one out.

I do support that crazy Norwegian women’s beach volleyball team in their protest of the “dress code.” It has helped pique interest in the sport, and quite frankly, the overall Olympics.

While I’m not that invested in this year’s games, it does make for good background noise!

Whenever that amount shows up on the register, I pronounce, “Norman invasion of England by William the Conquerer.” Befuddled looks. $14.92 is an easier year to get a rise out of some who remember the simple rhyme for a certain explorer landing on our shores.

Of course, if a year pops up that is personal to me, such as $19.77, best year ever, it might elicit a cheer from my mental vault. Thus, I chuckled when sent this meme from the APB press.

I encourage you to look for years for which you, too, can promote history and merriment. Of course, this will require retail therapy and interaction with a cashier-of-yore. None of that self-checkout scene. Old-fashioned personal communication required. Be radical!