Author: Rene

…until the police show up. That’s what my friend said when I was asked to move my car – in my own neighborhood! ”Or until something is broken.” Apparently another party indicator.

I live on a road which dead ends where I parked. I queried others, ”Do they know I am the HOA President?” I moved it, sans driver’s license. (Because I only live ten houses away.) I really wanted to approach the neighbor in the adjacent neighborhood who was watching three us move with a gleam in his eye.

We were all at the dead-end to celebrate a birthday, and to visit a friend who is very ill. The dear police officer who had to respond felt bad being called. I probably could have stayed parked there, but I figured I’d better abide by the law. Who knew we had a ”No Parking” sign on our street?

Well, it was a party!

‘

My dermatologist had a seemingly VERY young attendant learning the ropes as I went in for the yearly screening. That was probably good, so he could hear what people actually do to themselves without the aid of medicine.

During the exam my doctor pointed out a skin tag I might like to have removed. I said, ”Oh, I just cut it off when it gets too annoying.” The doc glanced at his mentee, and I laughed. We all did. I’m sure the ensuing conversation was, ”Yeah, you’ll get some of those.”

I extended that logic to my daughter when the back of her earring was growing into her lobe. The young pediatrician couldn’t get it out and suggested the emergency room and that we allow it to grow shut again. Thanking him, we went home, I got the antiseptic, tweezers (properly sterilized, I’m sure) and did the duty in seconds. I cleaned the earring and stuck it back in with bandaids to keep it where it belonged.

Missed opportunity to go into medicine?

My allergy pills ran out three days ago and I haven’t made the time to refill them. Along with my daily drowning per the Neti Pot, I seem to have kept the sneezing at bay. My eyes itch like crazy though, so I am considering caving and going to the store tomorrow.

An apt bit of humor for all allergy sufferers provided by the APB.

White ceiling paint showed up on my purple Duluth Trading Post overalls. A nice big smear which I couldn’t remove for thirty minutes. Paint never comes out. This did!

I offer the little yellow bottle of Carbona, that of which I have no idea when or where it was purchased, though its promise of removing wine stains is a probable cause for the acquisition. I scrubbed out the paint with the tiny pellets and water, and voila!

It was a Martha moment.

This had me chuckling…because it speaks to my my dental check-ups or any medical appointment, with which I have riddled the month of June.

I’m not canceling though. It’s called, ”self care.” (Thank you, Palysun!)

Whilst watering plants and cleaning the birdbath yesterday, I ran into a horseshoe stake in the middle of the yard and gashed my leg. It hurts. I knew those stakes should have been pulled when I mowed last week, but I was too lazy to do that. Thus, I have paid the price, and I’m hoping I peaked in my stupidity.

Of course, I followed up the gash with some fun ceiling painting leaving my neck stiff and kinked. Perhaps I haven’t peaked yet?

When you get to have a mammogram, here is a jovial little game to play.

First, after the incredibly swift reception, when you are ushered to the ”spa-like” room while you wait for twenty minutes, make eye contact. Perhaps have jovial conversations, as all of the magazines have been removed in the past three years from waiting rooms, thus, keeping you in the dark on Hollywood’s machinations.

When the technician announces you from the farthest-most point in the area, stand up loudly and state, ”I won!”

If you don’t get smiles, at least you know you’ll be the conversation at dinner for somebody.

Every time I have painted a ceiling, my neck gets kinked, I end up wearing a pain patch to bed, and I vow to never paint another ceiling. So far, I think I have had to make that vow seven times.

Painting is an enjoyable job for me, rather therapeutic. However, craning the neck to accomplish it is undesirable. I’m not as limber as I once was? After I paint two more ceilings, I will once again pledge to avoid this task.

Things are looking up!

My sister and I were enjoying our time together pre-wedding day, when suddenly, I realized I didn’t have an item of clothing I thought I’d left at my brother’s home. The ensuing texts gave us some good laughs. Here is our in-depth conversation.

Those fancy pants traveled there and back again without being worn. And they weren’t in a hangar or on a hanger. Let’s blame swype for that error!