A Cuppa

          We went out for breakfast this morning in the next town over.

Alarming Situation

When Mamie and I went for a ride yesterday, I had to first back the car out of the garage, close the garage door, and then walk her to it from the front door. Why? you ask.

Strange New World

We’re home from a delightful visit to our daughter’s for Thanksgiving, where she produced a spectacular meal. Yes, food always tastes better when someone else cooks it, but it really was beautifully done.

Cold Start

Retirees

          Wednesday night dinner conversation in our house:

“So how was the Art League turnout when you went?”

“Not as many as usual”

“Huh. Well it’s been cold and this is the weekend after all . . .”

“Today’s Tuesday.”

“Oh, right. . .”

Company's Coming - Dim the Lights!

          

      There you are standing in the middle of the tracks. A single headlight is bearing relentlessly down on you. It’s the Holiday Train, filled with eager visitors who will soon be pouring into your home, burrowing into your nut bowl and couch, and bellying up to your Pinterest-decorated table.

          This is the season for hiding, stuffing (not just the edible kind), and sleight of hand.

          A few suggestions -

          The eclectic pile festering for weeks on the kitchen counter - three rubber feet for that metal chair, the dog’s medicine, the battery you need to replace, and the CVS coupon – into the junk drawer.

          The pile of shoes by the back door – your sneakers, his sneakers, old slippers for getting the paper, and those of your centipede children – distribute to owners or consign to the garage.

          The eight-inch stack of magazines that – you’re going to get to, save for so-and-so, or have that recipe you’re sure you’ll try – recycle. Look at you, saving the environment.

          The kitchen towel with the stain, the scorched oven mitts, that serving dish you love with the chip – back of the cupboard. There’s a reason why things are described as being “for everyday.”

          Windows – It’s dark by 4 p.m. now, not an issue.

          Carpet – Fill the room with people. More feet = more carpet covered.

          And if you stop by my house, just remember, thoughtful guests do NOT lift the sofa cushions.

One Down. . . .

So as of this Thursday, I’m down one more notch on the wisdom scale.

Going Home

We’re home and still shaking off the effects of two delightful 12 hour days in the car, preceded by the treat of being on the road by 4:30 the first day and 3:30 the second. (Insert emoji of Edvard Munch’s The Scream here.)