It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

This is my next kitchen redo! Lilac-colored cabinetry.

Lilacs are just so cheerful and fragrant. I’ve loved them since childhood when we played in the overgrown, monstrous bushes in our backyard. My grandfather was allergic to them, however, so they couldn’t go in the house when he visited.

Oh – it will probably just be a change from pink curtains to lilac. For today, I’ll revel in the thought of this gentle color.

Today afforded the opportunity for a scheduled doctor visit. It was also the chance to politely decline to preregister online for three different requests – the last being an hour before the appointment. They were certainly persistent.

I just figure somebody has to have some job security in this day and age? Why am I typing information into a form which doesn’t need to be updated save the signature and date, especially when nothing has changed in health history or address? Additionally, the people attending always ask for your medical card and identification for scanning. They’ve got everything they need.

Upon arrival I took approximately five minutes of the receptionist’s time to exclaim, “Nothing has changed,” and sign the form. Two of the minutes were her attempts to find my name in the system.

Apparently I was feeling a little rebellious today?

”Let’s Walk and Talk.”

My dad loved going to auctions and coming home with treasures he willingly shared with family, the neighbor kids, friends. It was like Christmas when he came home from a sale. One time he had a box of old 45 records. Since my sister and I had a little phonograph but no money to buy albums, we played those oldies ad nauseum.

One of the songs was, “Let’s Walk and Talk.” Don’t know who sang in that deep baritone, but I still recall all of the words. The song came to mind as I walked the loop in my ‘hood while talking on the phone the entire time. It’s a good theme for the day: “Let’s walk and talk, when things go wrong. Oh yes, let’s walk! Let’s walk and talk. Let’s walk and talk, let’s walk and talk and get along.”

Redundant, but the message is clear. Now I’m ready to get along with the world! And in the words attributed to my mother’s graduation class motto, “Onward ever, ceasing never.”

The first time I was in London I stayed at a hotel where the Illinois National Guard was housed, sleeping on the floor of some woman’s room. She was gracious enough to offer me a roof when she learned I had no idea where I would stay that evening. We were chatting on a tour bus from Stratford, me the vagabond, she a productive member of society. It was kind of nice to have a place to spend the night in a foreign country on the government’s dime.

Anyway, it did not rain then. Nor did it rain on my second foray to London when I was happy to further explore the city, this time from the vantage of a week’s stay with my sister and niece, and obviously with a bed of my own. However, the third time I got to experience the drizzle and gray – the London fog. This only comes to mind as it is raining steadily and continues into the afternoon today, beckoning me to abandon my cleaning frenzy and relax with a book and blanket.

Sigh. Off to get my mop and bucket and channel that outside moisture onto my floors.

One of the P.E. Classes my high school years afforded me was “bowling.”

Every winter month at some dreary, “what-can-we-do-now-for a-lesson-plan” stretch of boredom, we would hop on the bus and rowdily make our way to the lanes in my small town. I guess it’s amazing we even had a bowling alley since we only had a bar and a cafe for “eating out” purposes. Perhaps that was the real reason for the establishment? Choices in fine dining. I have to assume they offered food, but since I’m sure I never had the opportunity to make a purchase that is not a recall item in this steel trap catalog. Perhaps its existence was solely for the gym teachers to alleviate the stress on their hectic scheduling?

I also wondered how the teacher graded us with that unit because I never broke 100 for a score, nor did I improve throughout the unit. The bowling balls did not fit my child-sized hand properly. I hated the slippery shoes, once again, assuming I fell a number of times or slid down the lane in embarrassment. It had to have happened. Foot fault!

The best part of bowling was math. I would have received an “A” in that unit if all I had to do was keep score. Luckily I had the chance to try my hand at the sport yesterday for a family outing. Luckily? I bowled 104 and 105, surprising myself after years of neglecting my game. Thankfully bowling “centers” have made many improvements over the years.

I highly recommend using the bumpers for young and old alike. The lack of gutter balls definitely improves a person’s score.

”Rene, you’re showing curator vibes.”

Geez. Modesty overtook me. Momentarily, by the way. Pinterest sends me these affirmations. How could this be? Well, it’s only because I “liked” something on the app and someone else reposted my “like.”

Geez, again. One person gives me accolades for something I didn’t even do initially in the techno world?

I just reveled in my first little grand holding my hand today to try and fall asleep for a nap she willingly wanted and asked me when we were going to take. (Dream come true.) Now that is an affirmation of a greater degree. That’s when you know you are really “liked.”

We received an accidental delivery of six Crumbl cookies this past weekend. There was no sender to thank, a note to someone called, “Dixie,” and of course, our name on the box. What would you do?

Of course we ate them – well most of them. Those things are HUGE! And they are stuffed with so much sugar it can make you slightly nauseous. Living up to their name they crumble quite a bit, too.

The mystery was solved when a realtor friend of ours called to say he screwed up and sent the order to us. We thanked him for adding to our caloric intake. It was my first foray into the Crumbl world, and I didn’t have to do a thing.

Not all mistakes are bad. Some are actually sweeter than others.

It’s in the baking. 200 sugar cookie “dog biscuits” plus three water bowls for three little grands. Yes, playing “puppy dog” was a favorite activity when my kids were young so I assume it will be for the little pipsqueaks who crawl around here. Plus – it’s time for two of them to turn two!

Maybe for Christmas I can make red and green biscuits? This could be an ongoing easy gift idea – until they tire of puppy dog and want to play “frog.” I don’t have any cutters in the shape of tiny flies.

Happy two – two!

Amen.

This morning as I was attempting to fix a teeny tiny little chain link necklace – which took a good five to ten minutes of my time and three failed attempts – I was wondering who the patron saint of jewelry might be. Then it occurred to me that the patron saint would be none other than the optometrist.

Yes – it’s that time of year when my dry eyes convince me I need to go and get them checked yet again. I need readers which can be purchased OTC, yet I am typing this missive without them. Additionally, I am going to publish before rereading to see if by chance I was able to type accurately and better than my 65 WPM with 3 errors score I attained in high school.

Of course, you’ll never know as I usually proofread after publishing. Sometimes my brain just misses things and sometimes auto-correct really does a number. And it assumes I mean something or some word when I don’t! This prediction thing drives me nuts.

My necklace is repaired, my eyes are focused outside on the dead weeds which need my attention soon, and my Tuesday class begins soon. Oh – and I put my glasses on to proofread. Yes, auto-correct screwed up two words.