It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

…springs eternal!

For the past two evenings I have slept with the window cracked at night. It’s just been so warm and sleep evasive that I had to get some cold air in that realm. Of course, now I’m really itching to start that “garden in my dreams” plan.

Yes, last year my six gorgeous ferns were wiped out by hail two weeks after purchase. (Along with my car) They never returned to their former glory until approximately one day before I got rid of them – to a self-proclaimed “fern nut” who was willing to work with them. My gorgeous begonia finally bloomed beautifully in the garage in October, and my plan was to winter it since it cost an arm and a leg at the local gardening center. That intention never panned out as the chill of the garage doomed half the plant one evening. I then lost interest in being a nurse in the nursery.

Now a houseplant? I cannot kill them, even if I try. My benign neglect works wonders with this light here, and apparently they are as stubborn as I. They just keep going until I notice the droop or dead leaves. There’s always something of a resurrection around them.

So the dream garden? Well, it can’t be too big and it has to be hail and wind-proof and probably have a drip system. It should probably be a faux enterprise this season for the flowers, with the continued visits to farmer’s markets for produce, and the discontinuation of comparing my flowers to that of my neighbors. (Hers survive it all and we’re backyard enthusiasts. They even make it through winters in her garage!)

Well, at least it might look as if I know what I’m doing?

This new IPad thinks it knows what I intend to type. I find myself constantly changing what it inserts or changes as I rapidly whip through my missives. (Oh – thank you – typing 101 or whatever class I took for a semester in 10th grade.)

65 wpm was my highest on a manual typewriter. My entire goal was to be the fastest in the class, but with five other contenders, two of whom were my guy friends hunting and pecking, it wasn’t much of an achievement. I can copy quickly. However, this new “prediction” drives me nuts! I’m reading what it thinks I want to write, yet, if I stop to actually agree it takes me much longer to put thoughts to the paper. Thus, I’m not watching the screen anymore, but the television as I type.

How many words-per-minute would I do today? Hm. I predict far less than my old achievement on a manual.

My third grade classmate and I were on the same page. Back in “The Good Life,” she was cleaning her desk. Apparently I was doing the exact same thing last week! I found a card I had stashed and sent it to her with a lovely, lengthy rambling-about-nothing-much note. (Something I might have perfected?)

In her cleaning she tossed a card from her desktop which I had sent last year, one that made her laugh. Imagine her surprise when the exact same card showed up a few days later?

After we laughed about that on the phone this morning, me getting over my embarrassment at not recalling the first missive, I had a brilliant idea! I am going to go and buy the rest of those cards and send them each year until they run out. I think she’ll appreciate it.

The risks inherent in friendship…looking like an idiot and being one with a person who understands. And of course, finding great practical jokes to employ.

For every hour of time difference in your travel, you will require the same number of days to readjust your internal clock upon returning to your usual abode? I’ve still got two full days to claim before I can quit using the “sleep deprivation” excuse.

It does explain this interminable jet lag feeling. The dreary weather today might have helped me adjust, even as I sit here with a heating pad to try and warm my toes. (I was outside in my fashion boots, not my proper winter gear. My tootsies got cold!) Just having a slow, grey day is somehow calming. There is no gorgeous weather beckoning me, no errands that need to be attended, no demands on my time, and probably the best reason I’m feeling somewhat back-to-normal, my hair appointment this morning! “Chop, chop!” My stylist loves it when I give her free range.

So while my hair looks great, I’m not nodding off at the table, and I have a dinner date with fish, things are looking rather hunky-dory. Do you know where that term originated? Neither do I. I do not know.

You know you need them or you drift around looking for one.

I’m kicking myself to get back into the Thursday routine I’ve pretty much kept for years – cleaning and organizing this domain of which I am the chatelaine. (Of course, I don’t exactly know how many keys there are to this abode and where they all are. I did try to organize them once, but it left more questions than answers?)

Back to the need for routine. If I don’t do the cleaning it gets left for another day. Review the upcoming week, update the calendar, do one undesirable task, and it at least gives the impression of being prepared for the weekend, which we know, begins on Friday.

Hm. Perhaps we commence by having a Hostess cupcake, one of which is left over from snack time at class this morning? That should give me the kick I need!

Once again, weather alerts have come twice a day warning of impending doom.

The plow is still at the ready as we prepare for battle on the land and with the pen! Enjoy this brief spelled-correctly, spell of spring. Ooh! Fun alliteration on that one.

We have definitely entered the “engineering” phase of toddler-hood. Yes, it was our privilege to corral two little activity seekers yesterday sans their leader, the three-year old. Testing, exploration and freedom ruled the roost with those two!

First of all, they enjoyed playing with a few of their elder sibling’s toys and actually can say her name associated with them, all with a mischievous glance at you for recognition, of course. A few times I couldn’t find one of them – but then the errant one would appear from a doorway giving me reason to wonder what was up. However, the opportunity to “do it myself and figure this thing out” reigned supreme. This only makes sense.

They wanted to “clip themselves” into their car seats. (Do you realize how long we would be waiting in the car before being remotely able to turn the ignition on with this method? There are three clips associated with safely!) They can consume a good five minutes working on the highchair clips, too, maybe longer if other adults are engaged in conversation ignoring them. (Lunch time can be a dual purpose activity now.) They get clipped into the stroller. (It was more fun to stand there trying to clip the stroller attachments than ride in it.)There are clips on the swings they own, the wagon they sit in. Clips, clips, clips! My hardly-nimble-anymore fingers are continually challenged. When they get a clip clipped – life is grand – until it has to be unclipped to return to the engineering study.

It made me realize why their mother gave up on hair clips for those two. They are easy feats of engineering. You put them in, they take them out. “Rinse and repeat” for entertainment.

Apparently my retailers missed me. Receiving this email gave me pause. I think I would rather take a flight to Italy and shop there – not anytime soon, however.

Here I was thinking I was acclimating quite nicely when I walked into my class this morning. The first words out of the receptionist’s mouth – “Boy, you look tired!” I wasn’t quick enough to respond, “Don’t I always?” That would have been handy to know – when I don’t look tired.

Ah, the small price to pay for travel. The harder price is being away from your loved ones for so long. I’m happy my little pups remembered us when we returned. My three-year old even commented on the number of days we were gone. Was she counting? I assume so. Her math whiz mother is a fine instructor. I’m also happy I remembered how to bid at bridge, though I think I did a lousy job of it. Now, to recall what it was I was going to do before I left? I know I wrote a note to myself last month.

Today’s travel? My discombobulated desk drawers. That will suffice.

This morning at approximately 3:45 a.m. I began writing emails. My children and siblings and brother-in-law all recipients. I had nothing to blog about in my sleep-deprivation, so after boring those loved ones I began rereading what I had written.

The comments left by readers? I do read them and respond, but I do not ever know if my responses get to the reader as I don’t know who is responding most of the time by the anonymous labels. That’s okay, I just wanted to reassure you that I do notice. All of this also brought to mind my prior technique of detailing travel.

When I would go somewhere of note outside of this state, (think Europe) I would write an email to friends and family, always with the silly and inane observations a person can experience when they get out of the comfort zone. My mother would laugh and enjoy them so much that I always pictured writing to her. Even when I started this blog – ? – not sure when now – I imagined writing to her. Thus, I have kept the audience pretty limited and not blasted it on social media.

Hah! Even though I have nothing to say, apparently I do! On to my third cup of coffee to keep these amazing creative juices flowing.

There was always a sign which gave me a chuckle along the way. I also try to take a screenshot of the countries to which T-Mobile so graciously welcomes me. I forgot Cambodia on this trip, probably because I was so enamored with the beauty of the country I spaced that little detail. Thus, here are some signs and comments from the peanut gallery.

So great to have unlimited date…hm.

The smoker shall remain anonymous, save the arm. We all loved the little rebellious action.

This was a sign referring to the possibility of going one way or another, not the option to visit something or someone else. Cambodia.

See below.

Wasn’t sure where the architecture was, and the use of the words “romp and run” was rather humorous. Not even remotely possible for the best of those in fine form to do. This was the easy section. We couldn’t get a good photo of the rockiest parts as we were clinging to the stones to climb up the narrow path. The guide said it would take one and a half hours for the old people, one hour for the young. I think I made it in two hours, reveling in returning to somewhat easier ground. No one tripped or fell!

Apparently the BBC must have had a message deemed subversive in this Communist country? BBC news was a good way to start the day, most like a morning here.

The last country from which we departed. At this point, unlimited data was probably limited by my ability to think clearly. It was a long flight to return to this beautiful weather. Seeing signs of spring everywhere!