Author: Rene

Bribery works, not just for little ones. I don’t remember having reward charts for my children when they were being toilet trained, or learning to make their beds, do chores, or any of that. I just flat-out bribed, I’m sure.

For me – no putting the tantalizing Ravensburger puzzle together until that closet was cleaned. No binging on the History Channel until my homework was done. Today – no holds barred, because it’s Saturday! We have to celebrate the weekend in some fashion – just so that we remember it is the weekend, right?

My bribe chart is really that “to do” list. I’ve only stricken two jobs off of the list this past week though. Thus, I was thinking I do need a reward chart. I might be willing to work more for a sticker or M&M?

Since we were sheltered in with a blizzard outside, the best way to get exercise yesterday was to strip the closet of its contents, clean and dust, and return only what was needed. That proved to be the difficult part.

It seems most of my closet is a costume/prop room. 15 hat boxes with two to three hats in each. (One box is a Bonwit Teller at least 30 years old!) Funky shoes, animal furs, skirts that will probably come in handy one day, just because they are black or white and go with everything. Hey! One friend knew exactly where to come for her fortune teller costume. And I have had every costume possible for every single school PTO auction theme, just out of my little half a closet.

I do have my normal clothes in there, though what that is defies description.

My dessert called for frosting, and I didn’t want to make it from scratch. I didn’t want to go to the store either. The solution? Good old fashioned bartering! I traded a friend her pantry frosting for a roll of paper towels. As a matter of fact, I think we will be doing more bartering as this pandemic continues.

That is why I am in full-tilt gnome production. Who wouldn’t want a gnome for perhaps, a couple of eggs? Maybe we make furtive trades using our mailboxes or porches. I could get my husband to start building milk-box style wooden containers for these transactions. (They would be fun to embellish…but I might have to make another craft store run incognito. I think they’re on to me over at JoAnn’s.)

The same friend who had the frosting, we like to call her, ”Parbara,” sent me a tactic for preserving toilet paper, in case you need to hold a roll in reserve for the bartering system. (or otherwise.) Ah – how I wish I would have learned to crochet and knit back in 4-H!

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Chatting with the local farmer’s wives, aka some friends at a socially acceptable six-foot distance, we spoke briefly on the riveting topic of buttons. Having used my new glue a mere six hours after purchase to apply button noses to some gnomes just yesterday, I began reflecting on the buttons of my childhood.

My mother had a jar – well two jars of buttons. One jar was for the white buttons, the other for the colored buttons. It sounds racist, but there were always white buttons on shirts so we had a ton of them. It was acceptable to separate them for ease of sorting. And sorting is what my sister and I would do while Mom sewed in her room.

We would dump those buttons out and separate them, trade them, fight over the one that had a rhinestone in it, make up games with them, create button families. Cheap entertainment, and yet I can place myself right back there on the floor of her sewing room doing it.

Today I have my own button jars, segregated in a similar fashion. And I still can’t throw a button away when I get an extra one sewn on a shirt or skirt or coat. I’ve even cut them off of clothing that ends up in the rag bin! They just pile up, waiting for a project to need them. Maybe that project will come to light during this home-bound time?

Okay…yesterday’s finest writing did not quite meet the standards of the computer world. My son informed me that because I had titled it with a certain title – it was recognized as computer code and the server didn’t know what to do with it. (Is that a correct interpretation, son?) So if you got a rather “nasty” response – oops. I really didn’t know what I was doing. (Even though I usually don’t know, I pretend I do.) (No comments, please.)

Thus….the wonderful and amazing insights of today – lost. Gone forever.

But basically what I said was that my glue gun broke. 30 years and it was done. I was upset, because I stuck a new glue stick in it and didn’t get to use it! 20 cents down the drain. The first thing I thought of was burying it. This brought me to a memory which I confirmed with my son.

Years ago, the “glow-in-the-dark” basketball we had was deflated, beyond pumping. So, as you would do with any ten-year old, you hold a burial and find a nice spot in the backyard for a treasured item. I was thinking I would put my glue gun with it because I know exactly where we entombed the equipment.

Tonight my son informed me that not only did I use an incorrect title for my blog, but I also forgot that we disinterred the basketball and it was no longer in the ground.

Now I don’t know what to do with the glue gun.

My glue gun broke.

All creativity has stopped, but the sun is still shining, which makes it a perfect day for my husband to practice social distancing on the golf course. (I would have no trouble with that as my shots never land even close to where they are supposed to be, thus preventing a nice little pile-up of players on the greens.) However, I will frequent the local establishment from which I shall procure a new plastic melting gun, inviting my friend to walk six feet apart from me as we saunter over there.

We do know how to plow ahead in desperate times.

I was thinking I might have to cave and go for a motorcycle ride with my husband. Normally I’m good for about 20 minutes of banging my helmet against his as I sit behind him staring at the back of oversized head gear. However, the weather is nice, the roads seem to be less congested with everyone holing up, and it might make him feel useful? Seems like a trifecta of sorts.

Some good friends braved the drive to my house and walked with me. Even the dog got out. This whole virus episode may make us a healthier nation! I have already gone shopping with my daughter and a coupon expiring today at one of my favorite haunts. No other shoppers were there to claim the bargains. Lest you think I forgot it was Sunday, we did attend Mass via EWTN this morning before the general frivolity began. And…I put an old golf tournament on for napping purposes.

Quite frankly, it’s been a lovely relaxing Sunday. The “normal” routines being interrupted isn’t always such a bad thing, and can allow us to reflect and see the goodness in the world.

“Gnome Therapy“ has been instituted here to brighten the mood. Aren’t they a cheerful lot? I’m off to the store to get more supplies for the rest of the holidays! Oh – and I’ve successfully put off accomplishing anything from my list, save creating gnomes.

“Something full of twists and turns.” A new word for our days – because who the heck knows what’s going to happen next?

Lists! That is what today calls for – the fine art of list-making. Speaking with my sis, I told her this is like a long snow day. You need some entertainment or jobs for yourself. I took myself to the local home improvement and craft store yesterday with that in mind, so a fair warning. Those living in close proximity to me may become “craft victims.” For many, this could be worse than a virus.

I am beginning a list of things to accomplish while not working or going to public venues. Most things on my mental list are either organizational, cleaning in nature, or catching up on correspondence. (Yes, they are the same things I have to do every day, but now they will get done!)

One thing I shall be instituting – coffee every day with a friend. Perhaps we do not meet anywhere, but practice our communication skills via the old telephone or skype methods? It could be a revolutionary change!

It’s so dry here. Yesterday morning the humidity level was at 17%. That being said, it’s impossible not to want to itch my eyes or nose every 30 seconds, they feel like the desert. It’s habitual and it’s the one thing I have to try not to do with this pandemic situation. It’s rather frustrating, so I’m considering alternative solutions.

Remember those plastic back-scratchers you could get on vacation as novelty gifts? What if I had one of those and kept it in a plastic sleeve? I could pull it out and scratch my eyelids and nose with that. Goggles. I should probably just wear swim goggles all day. It might help with the dry-eye situation, also? I’ll bet the CDC hasn’t thought of that one yet! One step further – I could buy a bunch, promote them on-line, sell them for a huge profit. Hmmmm… The itchy nose is still a problem though, because my only solution is to sew a rather unattractive patch to keep my delicate proboscis covered and unavailable to irritants.

It’s good to exercise the brain and think “outside of the box.”