Christmas has subsided and I can now sleep without waking up at 3 a.m. to wonder if I have enough eggs for the annual holiday omelet, or if Handsome Son already has a cargo liner for the back of his car (He did. Thank you Amazon returns).
Miraculously, everything I ordered online has arrived (last one skidded in yesterday) and is wrapped. I’ve reached the stage where I’ve already forgotten what the heck is in all those packages under the tree; I’ll be as surprised as everyone else.
I have my annual physical this morning and am crabbily sitting around the house.
It’s currently 32 degrees outside, although the psychic people at the Weather Channel ap tell me it feels like 27.
How my day began:
Did you know that if your Amazon order doesn’t solve all your earthly problems that way you hoped it would, you can just present yourself to a Kohl’s store with a smile and that disobliging item and they’ll send it back for you?
If you’re wondering what the younger set has been up to, here are a few excerpts from last week at our granddaughters’ pre-school:
A complete stranger ran fingers through my hair this morning.
I remember years ago, a stranger tapped me on the shoulder to warn me that I'd left my purse in the cart while deciding between one cut of chicken versus another.
SO annoying. I’ve done it again!
In spite of achieving my goal, today’s shopping experience was less pleasant than yesterday’s trip to the grocery store.
Today’s been pretty quiet if you don’t count the constant honking from the other room.
I’m hoping to get outside today if things dry up a bit.
I played my last game of golf here yesterday.
My temp of 100.9 on Friday hinted that pushing my golf cart up and down hills for 9 holes probably wasn’t the smartest choice.
It’s pretty ironic that this past week’s posts seem to all be food-focused, since by Friday I had a cold that would fell a trucker. A big trucker. My taste buds are currently on holiday somewhere else.
It was a slow day on Sunday, which meant a big pot of Pasta e Fagioli. If (when?) that recession arrives, this will just the thing to hold body and soul together.
“Over the top” can go two ways.
Having a bedroom on the first floor means that when I wake up and open the curtains, I can climb back in bed and look out at the woods as I read for a while.
We’ve been out and about these past few days.
The ether world both giveth and taketh away.
I made a pre-emptive strike to the library this weekend.
This morning I scanned yesterday’s online local headlines,
“Elderly Connecticut woman punched in head while exercising”
It’s unfair that exactly the people who could use a pet are too often the people who can’t always take care of them.
This weekend’s gardening was mostly about pulling things up before I had to unearth them from the impending fall mountain of leaves. Still, there were a couple of small discoveries.
Procrastination has its advantages.
Over the weekend I had what seemed to be a creeping technological infection.
My blog reading list that I use to access favorite sites was becoming less and less accessible. First I was unable to reach one or two blogs, and by Sunday almost my entire list was unreachable. I would click on the title, and instead of landing happily at Going Gently, for instance, I’d hit a wall. I tried my iPad instead of my laptop and aimed myself at Ellen Abbott’s land and instead of lovely glass artwork, I was landed in the middle of what looked to my untrained eye like coding, all numbers and hieroglyphics.
I returned to my blog list and began writing down everyone’s addresses. I don’t want to lose you folks! And then I meandered away my Monday instead of facing up to a tedious task of trying to figure out how to re-enter sites on my blog, if even that would work.
This morning I opened my tablet, and voila! You were all there!
I received a whiff of my childhood this week, thanks to Amazon and communists.
I’m still fascinated by life’s coincidences. Long before I ever knew I’d marry a Massachusetts boy, never mind live in Massachusetts, my father traveled up here from Virginia in possibly 1969ish and ended up at the Brimfield Flea Market. It’s the largest in New England, at least a mile in length.