More alternate uses of hosiery

Here I am again, needle in hand. No, not more masks.

Hosed

It seems those stick-up men depleting their mom’s stocking supplies were way ahead of us.

Tight Spots

     You know the ones.

Diminishing Returns

While searching for something cheap to download onto my Kindle, I re-discovered a mystery series by an acquaintance.

Symbiotic and Not-So Symbiotic Relationships

Many people have headed north, whether because they’d planned to anyway, or because in the middle of a national crisis it feels good to be home.

Half a Century

Thank you, pandemic, for at least bringing us Zoom. Our four-way visit was a roaring success, but the whole time I kept thinking how different we are from each other.

Bonanza

          Nope, not the TV show that ran from 1959 to 1973 NBC.

          I scored big-time today. My Guy hit one potential hotspot for toilet paper today and came home, tossing a four-pack to me the way the Great Hunter would lay a felled buffalo at his woman’s feet. It was a big moment.

          After his report of success, I vaulted into my car and roared back to the source. At this Dollar Tree they hadn’t even bothered to unpack the rolls from the cartons, which sat by the registers. No need to cart them to the shelf at the back of the store. They’d likely only last another 20 minutes.

          My roll of four on the back seat, I was fired up. I rolled on to a nearby Dollar General. Here I was allowed TWO four-packs. If there had been anyone I could have leaped into the air to high-five (back in the days when we touched each other), I would have. 

          I may just spread them all loose on the bed and wallow.

Warning: this is NOT about the pandemic - mostly

     Astonishingly, today’s blog is Covid-free. Although, if I hadn’t been pinned down at home for hours on end, I’d probably not have gotten around to this project.

          This is a selfish task, pretty much just for me. I’ve been writing this blog for years, thanks to a mentor who had brushed aside my objections and my scoffing, and convinced me to begin it. Much of it is without a doubt just day-to-day drivel, but once in a while a topic will cause me to set down some long-lost memory, or might be about an event I’d enjoy revisiting sometime.

          Instead of having to do electronic forensics through years past, I create a hard-copy chronicle, using Shutterfly. (No,

this is not an endorsement – that’s just the brand I happened to choose.) Now I have a book on my shelf for each year of my blogging – or would if I hadn’t slacked off. I’m currently putting together the 2017s posts, I guess I have some catching up to do. (Yay, virus!?)

          Not every entry is included, otherwise each book would be the size of the Manhattan phone book (or does such a thing still exist?) and would be too pricey. But I can pull out key memories and events so I don’t completely forget my favorite cat of them all, 

hijinks with the grandboys,

the arrival of the twin grandgirls, 

 

and all the weddings, moves, and milestones.

In which Marty's not the sweetheart you thought she was

Boredom to Beauty

     

     

     I'd finished my 956 page (no-really) murder mystery by Elizabeth George, the jigsaw puzzle held no allure, I'd already swabbed so much Pine Sol through the house that it smelled like a high school locker room, and the dog was bored. Time to hit the town.

Raccoons and Bras

     Standards are slipping a bit here.

Silver linings

     Never let it be said that it's an ill wind that blows no good. 
     It wasn't until there was a world-wide pandemic that my email revealed this terrific opportunity:

Covid Capers

Our teapot and its tempest

Nothing like being stuck indoors to bring out the Mrs. Kravitz in my neighbors.