It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

’Tis a right foggy and dreary day, a change of pace. Perfect for long-displaced chores or finishing a novel, beginning a new project, or even lounging around enjoying the respite.

Tally-ho!

Last night members of the bridge group attended a concert at the Botanic Gardens. It is always wonderful to enjoy live music in a gorgeous outdoor setting, regardless of the musicians.

This was the only artist on the summer series I even recognized, so I recommended “Panita” secure the tickets for this particular evening. Inaccurate weather forecasts had us waiting out the rain before the concert and leaving during the lightning evacuation mid-performance. In between we listened to tunes, me somewhat irreverently as I couldn’t quite wrap my head around his 82-year old voice scratching out some songs I knew, and others I am quite happy to have never heard. I did have some extremely satisfying belly laughs though – those lyrics! I guess we all thought we were pretty special back in the 60’s and 70’s!

Perhaps my half-hearted appreciation led to God’s pity and our early dismissal. We decamped to JD’s Bait Shop, a dive bar near our carpool designation. A fitting end to our tame little group. We parted at the late hour of 8:30 pm, ready for the next adventure.

It’s fun when a song on the radio meshes with the day. For today it is Stereo MC’s “Connected.” There’s really only one decent line in the song. “…but if your mind’s neglected, stumble you might fall…”

Thus, it is Tuesday, bridge is on the menu. Hoping for decent cards to at least either make a fabulous play, or destroy the opponent with great defense, (equally appealing) I head out for some tending to the mind. There might be a few weeds sprouting?

After spending a weekend mowing I have made peace with the grasshoppers. Boldly going where no one has gone before, I cut wide swathes with the trimmer and mowers, placing myself in the center of a hoppin’ mad scene. These little guys are small, but the three-inch one I encountered on a pine tree gave me pause.

As long as they stay out of my hair I can handle them. All I know is they appear to be worse than in past years and they are here until the first freeze, so we shall be friends.

It’s been about 15 years since the last FalPal meeting. The participants can no longer recall what the acronym even means? Its purpose was to “help each other finish projects for which we have lost motivation to do so on our own.”

My friend got a nice set of curtains out of the deal! I got a room painted! It was going well those first two meetings. Then it was “delay of game.” Until this morning…

The aptly named “Sticks and Stones” project was completed. Although simple in nature, and one which we might have rebuffed if our children had created it in grade school art class, we were pretty proud. To further excite the crowd of crafters, I actually hung mine for all to see. We had a few glitches.

However, we accomplished a project! 15 years and three projects. Pride burst forth from the spouses.

For years we have tolerated the horrendously pitted asphalt and potholes on a major road through the neighborhood. They are now – at long last – repairing it!

Honestly, the milling they have done on the roads is better than what we were driving on. You know it was awful because I actually stopped and thanked the crew one day. I’m guessing I wasn’t the only one as the guy laughed.

Just a small improvement to celebrate in our world.

Worried about the possibility of a sleepless night, my spouse informed me, “Read the manual for that power wheels transport you ordered for our granddaughter.”

Ah. Yes. I never would have approved of our children driving a motorized vehicle at the age of three, yet, somehow, it seems totally plausible with our granddaughter? And…she is exceptionally adept at the process of steering, reversing, and now – within 24 hours – a three point turn!

Of course, I learned that my spouse has been instructing her in the automotive ways of turning an ignition key on the ATV, 4×4, Firebird, lawn tractor, and motorhome. (I have now divulged more transportive information than is necessary.) This child is a gearhead at an early age.

Back to me. I am hopefully sleeping fitfully without reading the manual…and knowing my little pup is learning from the best motor-head possible.

Not only is this a good reminder during our full-force wildfire season, it’s also my new moniker for Wednesdays.

Early this morning my daughter stopped by. She dropped three adorable girls, and within ten minutes rolled out the door. We glanced lovingly as the car left. Now we have little imitations of each other rolling around.

Time to change a diaper!

”Is that from Mom’s closet?” Words that will strike terror in a sister’s heart.

I thought I was styling with my jacket, albeit over ten years old and purchased with my mother. It had the color green in it and matched my beautiful chapeaux. However, when my sister mistook it for my mother’s article of clothing, I happened another glance at it. We had a super hearty laugh. It is a little dated.

This fashion item shall be finding a new home in a foreign country on the next expedition.

There are ways around this “no plastic bag” business in our fair state. It’s not that I’m opposed to the discontinuation at all, it’s that there are still ways around the issue. Plus, I miss my little grocery bag liners for the trash cans!

Thus, my neighbor and I, and perhaps you, avid reader, have found a supplier in this market: family and friends in other states.

My sister chose to transport all of her bags from Indiana when she vacationed here. I’m good to go for a year. My friend just received a shipment from her southern pal, “Parlene.” Though neither of us have formally “placed an order” for these frowned-upon items, we have enjoyed the playful attitude of our suppliers who obviously have enough to share!

Although I could tout the merits of having small plastic bags, (good for kids wet clothes, stinky diapers, securing chicken guts, tying to your St. Bernard for a delivery, etc…) I do think it’s probably good to get away from them. It’s also time to make them all biodegradable.

It’s trash day, so I’m off to reline my little receptacles and drag my large plastic-lined trash can down the driveway. Thank you, faithful suppliers, for my yielding to my dependency.