Author: Rene

Worn, faded, lifeless. No, I’m not writing a depressing Haiku, nor am I talking about my hair color.

Privy to the “early morning” commercials during my fasting from sleep, I was entertained by an advertisement for the “Posh Mark” app. Three women were having a lucrative time with this phenomenal app. It allowed them to resell their designer clothing and handbags online, the ultimate in recycling your closet. One woman had purchased a family vacation with her proceeds, another funded her wedding! The last poor thing only made $10,000 in extra cash selling off her closet.

As I stood looking at the opportunity before me and the thought of a new career, I concluded it’s possible for me to sell off my closeted goods and fund a weeknight stay at a Ramada downtown, but only if I use a groupon deal with it.

Back to the worn and faded choices of which I am rather fond.

My lovely son made a delicious Fat Tuesday meal for us and asked what I would be “giving up” for Lent. Now we all know you can give up lots of things, but then you have to find a replacement, because something has to fill that void.

I told him I would give up cleaning the stove so that others could enjoy that opportunity. After last night, I think I should also throw in the countertops. I could also omit cleaning the wood-burning fireplace in favor of someone else relishing that task. (We enjoyed the fire as the wind whipped through our fair state and brought more snow yesterday. It is a supreme mess to clean though.)

However, I have found a replacement for the sacrifices I will be making this Lent. A nice 1,000-piece puzzle is now set up in the family room, on a portable table, providing a new temptation for me as I avoid my domestic duties. It will be fun to work on it as others are cleaning the fireplace and stove.

Uh huh. We can still party ‘til the cows come home – as long as they are home around 9:15ish. And as long as the party isn’t too crowded or noisy, and there is food available, and libations. Oh – and a private room for important phone calls.

Last night we dug our heels in and went into the city to try out a new food truck and tap bar opportunity. Thank you Panita and Prudy, for getting us out of our suburban drill. There was sustenance and drink, the party wasn’t blasting loud noise and it was pretty low-key since it was Monday night. And there was a private glass-enclosed room just for making or receiving phone calls! Maybe that’s the key to our newfound nightlife recipe? Avoid the crowds, get in and out early, and still make it home to tend to the needs of the canine. Oh, and be able to make a phone call in a private phone booth so you look cool.

Yes. We are “hip and with it,” but of course, no one was there to verify it. Moo.

Yes, I’m back in the ‘hood. Back to the routines. Back to the hacking and sneezing from the choir at Mass last night. I would be concerned, but a “cold is a cold,” and I’m more interested in another “anti-vaccination” issue we have not considered.

It’s not really a vaccination, but it is another deliberate decision to ignore the best needs of the general public and do what you want. (Oops) I’m talking about DST. Daylight Saving Time. Now, I really don’t care where anyone stands on it, but my sister and I are waiting for someone to appear in court and announce they are late because they do not adhere to DST standards, therefore, they are not late, but “on time.” (Actually, now that I think about it, I could use this wonderful excuse! I could even feign that I didn’t know we were “on” or “off” DST? I could say that I am an Arizonan at heart. Or Hawaiian? I could say that I didn’t really know which state I was in. Confusion?)

The Nebraska Unicameral is considering eliminating DST. I have to say, living more centrally than most, it does screw up circadian rhythms that you didn’t even know could be screwed up! If they pass the bill, Nebraska, (aka “The Good Life,” “which is not for everybody,”) would do the courteous thing and not implement it unless the contiguous states would do the same, and Congress would approve it. I just thought that was interesting news. And I thought it was really well-conceived in its proposal.

At the same time, I thought that it was strange someone hadn’t already used the anti-vax excuse with DST and insisted they weren’t late to a meeting. Would it hold up in court? I guess a well-trained lawyer could argue that one.

How many of you investigated “kefir?”

We were sitting ‘round the campfire last night and at one point, everyone was on a device “googling” or “tweeting” or “texting.” Except me. So I had to get my pad and do something because of peer pressure! It is handy though – to have so much knowledge at your fingertips.

I shall be returning home with a tiny bit of kefir to give me unlimited health benefits, but the actual kefir grains are nowhere to be found in our supply chain. So, this could be a short-lived experiment. Just wanted to warn you in case you were stashing savings for the kefir camp. No T-shirt orders went in yesterday, just pizza orders.

Mom and I are making are own water kefir now. We are going to bottle it, sell it to the local “Farmer’s Wife” coffee shop, and be able to take a cruise to the Bahamas with our proceeds. We will also offer lessons to those other health nuts out there like us. We will teach at our very own, soon to be popular, “Kamp Kefir.” T-shirts are on order.

Tomorrow we begin the process with our kefir grains and our lack of knowledge about water kefir, other than it has many health benefits. (One of them could be keeping the mind occupied with new adventures?). Apparently we have run out of projects around here. Plus – it’s too cold to wash windows.

Wish us well. (Photo of live kefir. Looks appealing.)

My favorite coffee mug.

The drive yesterday was quite lovely, except for the hitchhiking woman I agreed to travel with. She wore lime-green Ugg boots – a seriously fashion-challenged case. But she looked so pathetic as I was leaving that I agreed to drag her with me.

It was nice to have the company for the first half hour, she seemed to be rather contemplative in her thoughts. Then – all hell broke loose. I let her drive, and she changed the radio station constantly to find songs she liked! She was belting out tunes at the top of her lungs, complete with choreography. She called it, “Exercise While You Drive.” It’s possible she thinks this could be a real program for those frequent road-trip types.

The other annoying habit was that she is kind of a know-it-all, who obviously has some weird obsession with roadkill. I had to listen to her rattle on about how it was too early for the skunks’ mating season, and we know this because of the dead carcasses we continually saw and smelled. They usually don’t get this active until Spring, apparently. There were fewer deer though, as the days are getting longer and less deer get pummeled in daylight. I put my foot down and did not let her create a roadkill tally for our amusement. It was bad enough that she checked her email on a lonely stretch of highway – I didn’t need her logging deceased critters.

The coup de grace was that she bought a bag of popcorn and consumed it, creating a serious mess in the car. She is the sloppiest popcorn-popping-person on the planet.

I dropped her off right before I hit my mom’s house, but she assured me she’ll be hitching a ride back, so I shouldn’t worry about driving alone. Many thanks to those of you who spoke with me on the phone yesterday, allowing me a break from my maniacal travel partner. Don’t hesitate to call again on Saturday!

As I returned to the mothership today and “The good life” – I am thinking about my walking partner’s comment from yesterday. We used the local mall to gain our exercise as it was a tad chilly outside. As we walked and admired pocketbooks, “Pristina,” told me she had coined a new phrase. “Sub-purse.”

A sub-purse is a little purse inside the “mother purse.” She has quite a few of these gems, tailored to her needs, of course! Work, play, dining, recreation. She moves things around and makes it work. I can’t even keep my one little sub-purse zipped shut, so most times everything is rolling around the depths of my handbag.

I think my new term will be “satellite purse,” because the contents of mine seem to orbit throughout the mothership, on the floor of the car, and in the closet bin where I throw my beautiful bag. Apparently I can only handle one bag at a time.

Jumping on (gingerly stepping on) the elliptical machine at the Rec Center, I made my way for an eighth of a mile before my workout partner noticed I was walking backwards on the machine. Was I doing that intentionally? It didn’t occur to me to go any way other than safely, which apparently was backwards. (Much like when I walked uphill pre-hip replacement – backwards alleviated the pain.)

When water walking I always go against the current, backwards for most people. And those endorphins that are supposed to engulf you after exercise? Nada. I come home and immediately want to fall into bed – as I did yesterday. I used to run at night in college, right before bed. Slept great. When I did yoga, I had to brush my teeth before starting, so that I could drag myself into bed and fall asleep. And who doesn’t read a magazine backwards, by the way?

I don’t know where the endorphins are, but I do know I’ve always done things a bit backwards. No need to add your comments to that one.