It is arriving rapidly. I saw my first weed yesterday. It’s a little thing by the driveway, but it’s promising to be hearty and hale for the upcoming season, giving me a good run for the money in curbing its growth.
I rejoice in the weeds until they become a burden. For a while, they are the only thing green we have – and then again – at the end of summer when it’s brown as a camel – they are once again the only green we have.
That little green weed inspired me. I bought potting soil in preparation for a renewed interest in gardening, however short that interest may be. I’m going to smell the new dirt stored in my garage until I use it in June, when it’s somewhat safe to plant again.
After reeling from the excitement of “Dry Shampoo Week,” I was able to engage in some cheerful banter with other moms at the book fair yesterday. We concluded that there were things to hoard much more important than toilet paper or water should a virus threaten to keep us sequestered in our homes.
For example: Board games. If you’re stuck in the house for a few weeks, you’d better have something other than three Scrabble boards since no one really wants to play with you anyway. Books. Of course the virus will hit computers, because viruses like computers. Thus your ability to download books will be in danger. Buy some new ones from Scholastic. Puzzles. Hit your local Goodwill and stock up for those moments when you need solitary time. (Wear gloves as you shop.) Popcorn. You will probably be watching lots of movies on the telly. Coffee. Because you are addicted to that morning cup.
And of course, dry shampoo is worth hoarding, because if we do run out of water, you will still look good!
That would be the start of today….at 3:00 a.m., which was really 2 a.m. a mere 48 hours ago. Yes, my sister booked a red-eye home – not reflective of her desire to leave me, of course! At least I don’t think so. Maybe it was? Who knows?
The remarkable part of the drive was the drive. We endured pea soup for a good seven and a half minutes on the toll road. Whoa! Haven’t had that in years. However, upon returning from the airport, I only passed one car, and had no one else driving south on my side of the road! How can you drive 30 minutes without another soul, save one, on a major highway? Of course, that’s normal on the “Lindsay Road.” (Once again, counting fetish at play.)
The next exciting development was the dream I had after I returned to rest my weary eyes. First of all, my mother and sister and I were attending a funeral at a really cool estate which has shown up before in dreams. I’ve never seen it in person. However, they charge for parking. (They charged in the last dream, too. You’d have thought I could have remembered that!) Because we forgot our parking pass, I had to pay $150 to get the car. Yet that was nothing compared to the $15,000 the Australian government was charging me in the next episode of the dream. That was because my sister hadn’t put enough postage on a postcard. I was about to talk to the “President of the Post Office“ when I realized this was a dream.
Where is this going? Not really anywhere. Just taking your mind off of a little Coronavirus Panic. Which, by the way, doesn’t compare to the really remarkable week being launched at the Ulta beauty stores. Be prepared!
We celebrated two birthdays last night – those of my sister and my sister-in-law. Neither is named Becky. However, that didn’t stop us from icing the greeting with “Happy Birthday Becky!” It was all a part of the silliness we invoked while my family visited, and part of the reason for my blogging break.
And of course, while it is still early in the “Year of the Camel,” two mischievous friends managed to incorporate very clever wine labels touting the camel as they presented their gifts to the gals. The wine description for one read, “Aged, Funky, and Juicy.”
There is not enough germ gel on the planet to counteract the circumstances involved in elementary education! God bless the teachers.
Yesterday was a rather quiet day. I had just returned from sanitizing my hands so as to eat my lunch in the calm of the library. A lovely young lady of approximately eight years of age decided to visit and make a purchase with her $2. Happy for the company, I helped her find an exquisite eraser, one I’m sure her parents will enjoy picking up from the floor after its non-use.
As she came to pay she took off her shoe and produced the bills, nice and sweaty. I de-rumpled them, smiled, and aired them out before placing them in the drawer later, knowing I would probably distribute them to another unsuspecting shopper as change.
Perhaps a cashless society could also save us money on germ gel costs alone?
Tonight dessert consisted of a piece of banana-split-flavored Double Bubble gum. The jaw-breaking experience reminded me of those awesome days of youth – when my father would exclaim, “Quit chewing your gum like a cow chewing cud.”
There was an art to that chewing though, and it gained me accolades at bubble-gum blowing contests. Not once, but twice, I won bragging rights as the bubble-gum champion at camp. My parents were proud, taking out a full-page ad in the local paper touting my success. Stock was purchased in Bazooka Joe gum, and scholarships were assured. I had signings at the local grocery store by the candy counter. My sister was thrilled and continued to add to the gum chain she was folding so intricately. (That part is true.)
Ah yes, – fond memories and a sore jaw to cap off a crazy day.
Have you watched “Zoey‘s Extraordinary Playlist,” on NBC Sunday evenings? Ha! I lived Miss Zoey today.
Zoey is a young woman (okay, I’m not living that part) who can hear and see people singing and dancing their thoughts and feelings – but no one else sees or hears them. Once she is privy to those inmost thoughts and feelings of co-workers, parents, friends – via music – the person returns to normal and no one else has experienced the singing and dancing.
I’m pretty sure I share Zoey’s frustration at having this amazing ability. Today Fr. David gave a homily addressing the temptations of Christ by Satan. One point he made was about “not giving up” when temptation strikes, not giving in. All I could hear as he was delivering the homily was Tom Petty singing, “I Won’t Back Down.” The entire 9 am choir was behind me as I accompanied at the piano. Lots of clapping and lyrics, “I will stand my ground, and I won’t back down.” I could see and hear the whole thing.
Perhaps the person who dreamed up the show was listening to a homily when the idea was conceived? It’s a fun show. I’m looking forward to the next episode – and homily!
No, it’s nothing sexual at all, which is to say that it’s an odd word as it seems to imply that it could be. My lovely “Word Genius” app informs me that today is a bissextile day, the extra day of a leap year. I enjoy finding words I have never known before. I would say I enjoy learning them, but I’ll probably forget I learned this one.
Except for the fact…today is my brother and sis-in-law’s anniversary! So go out there and enjoy this once-every-four-years opportunity on this glorious bissextile day.
Finally, after four years, I consented to getting my Ford Escape recall taken care of. (The door latch can come open on its own, apparently.) I was getting a little tired of the biannual barrage of notices, so I made the appointment for 3:30 pm. Even though the door has yet to open of its own accord after tens of thousands of miles, I guess it could happen.
I arrived at the dealership. Why is it that whenever you arrive at a service department, you are not greeted with a smile and a “Welcome! How may I help you?” My experience is that you have to stand there while they take care of important computer business without having them acknowledge you for a few minutes. Believe me – I addressed that grievance with them a few oil changes ago! Customer Service 101. I digress.
When the service woman finally deigns to acknowledge me, she gets on her computer and frowns. My recall is a four-hour procedure, they close in two and a half hours. ? ? ? Why did they let me book it for 3:30 pm? I guess they thought I would leave my transportation overnight and sleep in the lounge? To be fair, they do have a shuttle service. Yet, why start a job you can’t finish for another day? (That was in Customer Service 201.)
So, I returned home and vowed to leave the latch unrepaired yet again. I’ll just get a bungee cord for some added security.
