Proudly bringing you quirky and mundane observations.
(In the style of Niall Horan)
Nice to meet ‘ya What’s your name? Here’s your pizza Glad I came? Weather’s crappy Here’s your food I’m the brave one I’m the dude Pay no attention To those peeps They’re crazy family Love them heaps They were bored so They rode along Getting real tired of My mother’s songs Now I know why I love this job Takes me far from The madding mob Next time you order Don’t be dumb Tip that driver A hefty sum
In our family, there is always “that present.” It’s the gift that is partially wrapped either due to a wrapping paper shortage, miscalculation on the part of the wrapper, desire to use scraps to cover ends that got missed, or loss of interest in the entire process. This has now become a time-honored tradition. Someone has to get a crappy looking gift.
My mother can account for part of this historical convention. She was thrifty and used every scrap available to cover our gifts. Of course, there was no running out to buy extra paper when we needed more. No Target store in sight. Did they even exist then? No. We always made do with what was on hand.
Currently, there are a few packages under my tree sporting a less-than-stellar look. The fashionable thought is that Amazon is to blame. The boxes are either too big to wrap or succumb to the mind of the wrapper. “Why wrap what is already boxed in earth-toned cardboard?”
Happy fourth week of Advent!
Yes, it’s that time of the year. The annual cookie baking day, now complete with an 18-month old assistant.
In preparation for the big event I went through the cookbooks and recipe box. As I viewed recipes saved for another day, I had the thought, “I’m never making these.” Out they went! It reminded me of my Pinterest board, which also has things pinned which I am never going to make.
Just paring down the collections as we near the year’s end.
It’s fairly difficult to keep a blog going when you forget to charge your devices! Once I figured out I had no juice, it was too late. Then, my little sponge-of-a-grandchild was here, and I proceeded to give her more to soak in. (I think I taught her a new word – “yikes!”)
The only thing of quirky and mundane value was a chance to hear “the Pips.” Gordon and Gladys are both iconic voices and I was fortunate to be able to blast “Midnight Train to Georgia,” on the car stereo and sing to my heart’s content.
And you were all fortunate to not be in the car with me.
“Carefree Highway,” “If you Could Read My Mind,” “Sundown,” and of course, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” I always like Gordon Lightfoot’s voice, and I think I can sing of the legend that lives on from the Chippewa on down of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee. Yes, it’s a favorite song to blast when I’m on the road and it’s a guarantee it will show up on an eight-hour drive.
This cartoon gave me a chuckle and reminded me of my appreciation for Gordon. Now I can’t get the song out of my head.
…that’s the sign of a successful luncheon! That and 13 cloth napkins, a gunky soup pot, and an errant spoon needing a home.
The annual bridge “tournament” was a lovely event. I don’t know that my card playing has improved over the past ten years, but it sure has been fun to keep at it. Thanks to Mom for encouraging me, Parbara for teaching us, and the gaggle for making it happen.
Now the season has officially been inaugurated! Happy Third Week of Advent.
Remember writing prompts in English class? “Describe this photo.” “Tell a story using this photo.”
That’s what this strange image brought to mind. As I cleaned the window well in my new boots, having just returned from the hair salon, my live-in photographer thought to snap this gem. It’s so weird-looking, yet entirely plausible in the realm of Fall-duties-which-need-to-be-done-this-minute. No changing clothes or waiting a moment more. No going to a fancy dinner with a new hairstyle. Nope. Slap on a hat, find an old mask and climb in a window well with shiny new boots.
Thankfully, there were no rodent carcasses to deal with and only one threatening spider who now lives in the shop-vac. At least the boots and gloves matched.
Yes, you wait long enough and the trends return! Right, Pristina?
Curious to see what next year’s home designs entail, I read the “House Beautiful” article elaborating on what will be hot for 2023. The living room is going to be used for living! Surprise! We will now read there, nap, drink, and entertain. Interestingly enough, we have been on top of that trend for years as our shabby room has seen much wear. The muted colors for the new year are also evident in what we’ve lived with the past twenty years.
Now that I don’t have to redecorate, I can sit back and enjoy this cup of coffee before continuing with my domestic chores. I’m already feeling rested.
So, sometimes I am slow to move on unloading my car. I know when my haul needs to be taken out, and I also know that an early departure of said goods may be unfulfilling. Today I decided that task was necessary. I removed a few things and in the process found two champagne glasses from my weekend.
That discovery only made me appreciate my procrastination. I had totally forgotten that my daughter and I happened upon a “girl’s night out,” sales event. Free champagne and glasses? We stayed the extra 20 minutes at the retail establishment for the freebie. I don’t recall purchasing anything, (my daughter did) but that was a hazard for the store. I was one of “those people.”
I have two champagne glasses to replace the ones broken over the years, and obviously a better story. I’m putting the past weekend in my calendar for next year, anticipating the loss of more champagne flutes in 2023.
It sounded counterintuitive, but the concept of a silent disco was something we had to experience.
My daughter finds the most interesting events to attend! I jumped on this bandwagon Saturday during our mother/daughter weekend. I went to the silent disco party, thoroughly planning to break out my moves from eons ago.
We began by receiving headphones in exchange for our driver’s licenses. The headgear channeled three different DJs spinning their music. We could switch between stations and dance as we pleased, enjoying the other 100 or more people silently dancing on the floor with us.
It was definitely a unique experience, complete with electronic music. I argued that it wasn’t disco at all, but then, I was probably the second oldest person there. I might have been the only one who even remembered disco?
Thanks for keeping me young, Daughter!