It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

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.

Whilst vacuuming this morning I came across a sliver of plastic from the artificial Christmas tree. How they propagate long after being disassembled in my house is a mystery, but one that often brings a smile. It’s just fun to find something unexpected when you’re doing a mundane task.

And then – Voila! My lost ruby earring shows up on the floor of the laundry room. Why I even knelt down to examine the inside of the dryer was a mystery, but how the earring showed up, not so much. I’m sure it was roped in with the bedding I was washing. Still – another little “glimmer.”

It’s important to find those tiny glints of joy as we navigate the day, or the “razzle dazzle” as my MIL used to say. The deer bedding down in the backyard last night. The bat I rattled from his rest on the road when I biked past him. Just unexpected and delightful incidents.

Looking forward to the next glimmer!

When your eldest little squirt wants to nap on the floor you find the best place possible. What a wonderful use for your baby grand – if you happen to have one for your grand baby. The possibilities are endless when desperation kicks in and a nap is warranted so that you might have a free moment.

Grandparenting 101.

Not often does this comic strip hit the mark – in my esteemed position of critic – but today it did.

When I first ambled outside to retrieve my outmoded form of communication, I inhaled the earthy aroma of Autumn, saw the ethereal filaments cast by spider spinnerets on their aerial highways, and gloried in the return of fall as I sneezed extensively. These morning are fulfilling to the soul – peaceful with gently wafting air, a stray bird basking in the sun, that same sun highlighting the dirt-speckled windows from past rains, Indian Paintbrush completely withered – all harbingers of the next season.

Of course I’ll soon close the doors and windows, turn on the air conditioning, and take that allergy pill. I don’t mind paying the price for this beauty as I view the tree already turning orange outside my kitchen door. This is my favorite season.

Yes, there was a torrential rain and hail storm. The temperature dropped. The weekend plan was for camping – and by golly – camp we did!

Instead of packing up and hauling the kitchen sink to a remote location, the six-person tent was set up in the garage and the RV backed up next to it in order to replicate the experience of being “away from home.” It was perfect. Bathrooms inside, dinner from the local Asian restaurant, outdoor gas fire pit, and a playground complete with a DVD player and some old Disney movies. My husband and son rode around the driveway on their motorcycles creating awe-moments for the granddaughters. The four-year old joined in on her training wheels and everyone was satisfied that we had camped quite properly.

Who knows? It could be our new routine since camping in our fair state now requires ticketed times and lottery winnings. And the price is right.