It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

Whenever I light a candle, I actually put the extinguished match either under water or on my tongue to ensure it is actually extinguished. This is for a very good reason, a little lesson I learned in high school.

Surprise! I was on the journalism staff and got assigned for the major report of a particular issue. I was released from the confines of class and sent to interview the “Chief of Police” in our small town. Did we really have a COP? I don’t know. I interviewed someone older than myself in uniform and he smoked.

During the assuredly intelligent questions I asked, he lit his cigarette and answered my thought-provoking queries. He tossed the match in his trash can by the side of his desk. As we continued with this critical interview, I noticed smoke rising and informed him that his trash can was on fire. That observation truly lit a fire under him and he ran to get water and douse it.

I’m not sure if anything ever came of the award-winning article I surely wrote, but I do make certain my match is no longer working, even if it means a tasting a little sulphur.

In my quest for a Thursday offering, I came upon this thoughtful coffee mug. Obviously it leads to a simple conclusion.

We need more English majors in college!

Why did the Mayflower land at Plymouth Rock? They ran out of beer!

It was a Nat Geo day here yesterday, with obviously enlightening history. And while I’ve seen the episodes on Egypt and China, I hadn’t seen the “booze” show regarding the things that made America. Heck, NASCAR was a direct result of cars being improved for high speed, thus “outrunning the cops” during bootlegging days. A treasure trove of valuable information.

The best part of my binging was that there were absolutely zero political commercials all day! I sewed to my heart’s content and enjoyed a non- frenzied pace. High marks for NG.

With the dawn of winter, cold and bitter winds, my outdoor walking days shall be curtailed. I’m a walking wimp weather-wise. Thus, I’m looking for a new mode of exercise to adopt indoors, other than those exercises in futility.

I shall now be running in circles.

Putzing around on Pinterest again and actually looking at what I’ve saved as projects, was very enlightening.

First of all, I had double-pinned at least 20 things. When you pin them, you put the idea on the bulletin board and intend to come back to it when you are ready to create or build the item. Ha! I had Christmas ideas on the gardening board, recipes on my yoga board, Halloween in the backyard section, “lemon” ideas on three unrelated boards, and “Quotes I like” under a shared board of Cricut ideas. Nothing really was organized at all. Reminded me of a recent golf ball stash in the closet.

And so, I spent a good hour learning how to delete and reorganize my boards. It took a reality check to do it, as I clearly am not going to make most of those ideas. Maybe any of them? I just like them. The only board which really had everything that belonged there was my recipe board. Apparently a recipe is easy to classify.

Which leads me to the recipe file. I think it’s going to be the object of scrutiny this week. Nothing is safe from my Spring-cleaning-in-the-Fall binge.

There is a cute little nine-drawer box in my closet, which I thought totally necessary and amazing about 20 years ago. I toted it in my luggage from the East Coast and promptly started filling it. It’s only 13×13 in size, so not gargantuan. Of course, I peered in the mini-drawers as I was attempting to divest my closet of unworn clothing, better known as “new paint clothes.”

I had a lot of foreign currency in there – paper and coin. Weird keys to unknown objects, buttons from past outfits. (That one made sense.) Sequins? (Well, that makes sense to me, too!) Two golf balls? A mass of black yarn? Plastic needle for crafting whatever-those plastic crafts were 25 year ago? Circuit interrupters for lightbulbs? (Very cool joke to play on someone!) A paper clip.

This amazing filing system had me wondering if this is how my brain categorizes things, also, because, I actually knew those things were in there. Why were they still in there? Why was I keeping them?

If we ever have an intruder, my Zimdollars will be safe, and I’ll be able to lose two balls on the golf course.

Ambling through the mall, an exercise I have not entertained in recent months, my friend and I were privy to the Fall collections touted in the windows. The Tommy Bahama store had an unusual display, but one which made me think I might have some new wardrobe choices at home!

The window advertised throws – you know – the kind that go on the sofa or chair – not a full blanket. However, the mannequins were wearing them as shawls, even though they were clearly labeled “throws.” I stopped because I wondered why the figures were draped in home decorating attire in the first place, because they clearly were sofa throws. (Not that I haven’t pulled a Maria-from-the-sound-of-music-Scarlet-O’Hara-gone-with-the-wind drapery stunt a few times.) Then it dawned on me.

We can wear blankets this season! No need to worry about your outer gear – just toss a blanket around you and head on out. You could probably use the one on your bed if it’s not a king size? As a bonus, the only closet you need to clean this Fall is the linen closet in your search for fashion.

Perhaps the designers were out of commission this past year, too?

A visit from Mr. Sandburg’s feline today as the fog envelops us. The unfortunate thing is that smoke is predicted to join the melee this afternoon. Two things which can chase us all indoors – smoke and weather.

With that in mind, and going to pre-pandemic days, it is Thursday. So, we were supposed to be inside anyway vacuuming, dusting, and cleaning bathrooms and the kitchen. I’m going to treat it as a multiple choice adventure and just pick one of those duties though. We can’t use up all the fun in one day?

From my niece….

• Dad: Son, I like your picture of Jesus in the pumpkin patch.
• Son: Thanks, but it’s Snoopy laying down.

I can see both! Either way, he’s a great artist – giving us two perspectives.

My physical address book is a mess. Names are wiped out, addresses inked over, sometimes illegibly. Multiple entries exist when someone married or remarried, or when I documented a family member of a friend in two places. So, I thought about rewriting the book since I’m running out of space in a couple of designated “letters.”

Then I mused, ”How many people will I actually be adding in here in the future?” Now the contacts often go in my phone when someone transfers their information. And, if I rewrite, I will actually miss reading some of the old addresses and apartment numbers, names, people! It’s kind of fun to see how many places some people have called home in the past 20 years.

So, instead of rewriting the address book, I hauled my husband outside to revisit history with every door in our house and garage. We had a situation compatible with the address book; the key rack. We had collected old keys with homes long gone. Once again – a little trip down memory lane, except we hadn’t marked the keys and there was little memory of where they went!

This pandemic had better end soon, or I’ll be tackling the garage next. Danger, danger, danger!