Author: Rene

In need of a good chuckle I picked up, “The Derry Girls,” from where my California gaggle and I left off. It’s really helpful to have a full-blooded Irish lass watching with you, but I soldiered on!

It’s so goofy, and I so wish I could have played the role of Sr. Michael. Or at least, I wish I could have been in on the writing of her lines, delivered dryly with such aplomb. What a hoot!

“Once Upon a Mattress,” had another role I desperately sought in my youth. However, I was cast as Lady Larkin, the sweet one, not Princess Winnifred, the loud and brash character. Apparently my big mouth was smaller then?

Today I shall cast myself in the role of gardener as the sun is shining and the wind has abated. Perhaps the neighbors will hear me belting, “Shy,” as I pull the weeds overtaking the property? Hm. Is that why my friend, “Pary” wears ear protection when he’s outside? I shan’t take it personally.

We’re going on 40 plus hours of rain which made me marvel at Noah’s journey. It feels as though we shall float away.

Being stuck inside is probably a blessing as I have been cleaning out the storage room. How can it even get so disorganized? I’m not in there that often?

On a bright note, I did see an encouraging sign yesterday as I drove to my errands. A high school student was walking with an umbrella and wearing a raincoat.

Hope springs eternal!

Thank goodness we had wicked national-newsworthy-mention weather yesterday. It saved us all from hearing the local and world stories here.

It seemed possible the apocalypse was upon us as coverage went from 3:15ish pm through most of the night. Although we had it all with the weather, our little plot of paradise only received rain and a smattering of teeny hail. I was just thankful there was no snow, and that I wasn’t a weather forecaster yammering on about the same thing for hours.

I’m moving my plants back out to soak in the moisture which continues today. Oh – and the landscaping we did to mitigate the basement flooding – it works. Thankfulness all around.

It was a weak moment of feeling “crafty.” I was perusing the Pinterest site looking for something to do when I chanced upon this seemingly desperate use of time and energy.

Let’s imagine some home-bound-during -the-pandemic soul who queried, “What can I crochet next? Ah! Pasta! It’s so cheery and colorful. A bowl of it could be just what my dining table needs.”

Thank goodness I do not know how to crochet. I’m not even tempted to try this.

Ugh. The Sunday NYT crossword was not fun. It took me all day to finally get to it and perhaps that was the challenge. My brain was dead.

First of all, I spent the afternoon learning Mahjong, a pretty fun game, since I won. However, my brain was too overloaded then and therefore, totally inadequate in solving riddles. If I don’t get to the puzzle in the bright hours of the day, all hope is lost. That’s my excuse.

Okay – you get this one – which screwed up an entire area. “Gentle roasts.” The clue. Hmmmm. I should have known this! Obviously I was also caffeine-deprived and didn’t recognize “decafs” as the solution. However, I appreciated the clue and will try to remember it. (Quite frankly, it’s been a prior clue. I won’t remember it.)

Puzzles will keep us going. But really – bridge will keep us ready for the retirement home, right, Friends?

Nail technicians are artists. Three weeks ago I had a manicure with tips in preparation for the wedding we attended. Yesterday my tolerance for longer nails hit the wall. I dug up the gift my husband gave me years ago when I was in my “woodworking” phase of life. The Dremel!

Yes, I took the Dremel to my tips and played nail salon. It worked pretty darn well and gave me the shorter nails which are definitely better for swyping, playing the piano, and typing. Of course, my salon was a little rough, being located in the garage, but my photographer was certainly at the ready.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

My brother and sis-in-law provide the caravanserai in my life. I hang my hat there when I travel to “the good life” now that my parents are gone. We have our rituals and habits – one of which is having dinner at the local hangout.

Here at home I would like to go to a restaurant/bar where EVERYONE knows me. At my brother’s place the weather was delightful so we hopped the fence across the road and landed at the back door of CK’s, the local watering hole. I know nothing of this place other than that I show up, everyone greets my brother, and we proceed to have a “Duke.” It’s a ritual.

Just thinking about my rituals on the road. What are yours?

The return trip yielded a safe landing for me, not so for a million or so insects. Spring has truly arrived and my car is littered with the remnants.

So what shall I do today? Hop in the car again and go see some live insects at the Butterfly Pavilion. What else? Perhaps I can be inspired to return and wash my vehicle, allowing it to emerge from its cocoon of guts and gore.

Here is your inspiration for the day – a lovely bug poem I found. Enjoy your Spring day.

Is that bug an insect?
Can it be?
Count the body parts.
Are there three?
Count the legs.
Are there six that you see?
On its head
Are there two Antennae?
If you answer yes, then we can agree.
That bug is an insect.  Absolutely!

Another one of my 22 aunts and uncles has passed on to eternal life. She was an amazing soul here on earth, as exemplified by the attendees at the rosary last night and I’m sure the funeral this morning.

Of course, there is chatter and more chatter among relatives until the “settling in” for prayer. I’m sitting by one of my cousins when I glance to the pews on the opposite side of the aisle – about six people on that side of the church. “Why aren’t some of us over there?” I ask my cousin. “The family sits on this side,” was her response.

Our family reach went from the front to the back of church. It was a lopsided bit of antiquated etiquette, though telling. As my mind wandered a bit, I considered it would be a good math ratio problem for some teacher? “How many moves would it take to even out the distribution of guests if they were reseated two at a time?”

Thank you, Aunt Phyllis, for bringing us together. Put in a good word for the rest of us!

The readings, homily, and of course, hymns were all centered on the Good Shepherd yesterday. Lots of sheep and shepherding discourse.

Additionally, my husband was in charge of our granddaughter while I musically accompanied for Mass. Not a peep. Model child. My playing was even pretty decent. After communion, during the moments of silence, I hear a tune coming from the rear of the church, a sweet gentle tune that has been repeated nearly 500 times this past weekend as we babysat.

“Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?”

I’m pretty sure she got the gist of the sermon.