Down the Rabbit Hole

 

          I proved to myself again the wisdom of not feeding the addiction. It’s hard to remember now how it got started again – I just know that I fell deeper and deeper without even realizing it.

          Yes, I returned to Facebook.

          Now I remember – My Guy sent me a graphic summary of the Odyssey. And, while my visit to the world of faces wasn’t twenty years, like Odysseus I did lose time from my life forever. Okay, an hour and a half, but at my age how much do I have to spare?

 

          On the plus side, should we ever have triplets in the family, I learned how one enterprising father created multiple-kid strollers, swings, and shopping cart seats.

          I saw how to use an egg, dish soup, baking soda, and vinegar to unclog a toilet.

          I revisited the Asher House, a dog sanctuary that I used to follow daily. Cute dogs and a muscle-bound owner – why not?

          I studied several videos on how to improve my pickleball game. Funny how after I watched one, another would pop up. And then another. Algorithm anyone?

          Most importantly, I now have a very promising recipe for chicken breasts with feta, spinach, and grape tomatoes.

 

          And I did manage to extricate myself before I saw any commentaries by friends who I would think less of if I really knew their political leanings, the main reason why I never go to F Land.

         

The Great Garbage Caper

 

         What a truly odd day.  

          After a pleasantly slow start – tea, toast, reading – I put on my yoga togs and prepared to leave. As I opened the door leading to the garage, I managed to bang my big toe – my bad toe that was already having iffy nail issues after stubbing it two days before. Blood ensued, but I slapped on a band-aid, put on my sandals, and headed into the garage.

Life Lessons

Ages ago – and I mean ages – and in another life, I was at the local Milton Bradley factory taping a brief clip of the production lines.  It was a segment for a small cable children’s show that I produced and shot with a friend.

Bathtub Blues

           I have made progress in life, really. I’m no longer spreading newspapers on the kitchen floor, spraying caustic, lye-based, skin-searing cleaner into my oven, and then 20 minutes later on my hands and knees with my bright yellow rubber gloves (and breath held) wiping that cleaner out with 1,000 paper towels.