To the bank manager:

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To the bank manager that complimented my hair today,

Thanks, Darling!  You certainly didn’t have to do that.  I was going to bank with you today either way.  You do already hold my money.  Still, I enjoyed hearing it because I only had it done yesterday.  It was VERY expensive.  I wish I didn’t have to do it.

Bernadette, my hair lady, thinks I ought to have it colored far more frequently than I do.  She is right.  If I didn’t have to first remember to make the appointment, then psych myself into spending that kind of money on hair, and then have to spend all those hours in the chair listening to Bernadette tell me all about her Bible study group….well, I might go more frequently.

Please note: Bernadette is delightful.  Here Bible study group is delightful.  I, however, am not delightful and I’m exhausted by the whole, you know, talking to people thing.

Please also note: “Very” expensive means different stuff to different people, but dang, highlights do cost waaaay toooooo much!


Why people would rather die than speak publicly…

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The husband is presenting to a genealogical society this evening. We left home way too early, as we do, and arrived with more than enough time to set up. Kind of a bummer, as I’m now sitting in a room surrounded by a bunch of “older” people I don’t know. 

Unfortunately, Keynote inexplicably updated the presentation file to a version the husband doesn’t actually have. Nightmare! Who does that, Apple? Who?! 

  
He now sits, watching the update “progress” bar inch it’s way toward installing. I told him about watched pots, but he doesn’t listen to me in times of stress. Tick tick tick….he goes on in mere minutes….

PS: don’t worry, it worked out. Thank goodness for hotspots, am I right?



Today’s Incredible Accomplishment

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Isn’t it amazing, that wonderfully accomplished feeling you get after cleaning out and organizing your purse?

Look at me!  I could get in a gigantic car accident, bleeding and unconscious, and as the paramedics searched my purse for identification they would exclaim, “Look at this amazingly organized and tidy woman!  She sure has her life together!”

Feeling accomplished…


Inspiration in Everyday Things

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Impossible

This is my favorite doorway in the history of doorways.  The stone above the door reads, “Impossible is Un American”—and it’s true!

This particular doorway is attached to an old high school building, long neglected by the school district, now being restored by the city.  They are having to make some adjustments to the building to make it useful again.  It’s future is as a fine arts center.

Strictly speaking, not a restoration.

Strictly speaking, that is just fine with me.  The alternatives were to tear it down, or just leave it sitting, sad and neglected, until it fell down.  I can’t wait to see it when they are done with the inside.  Buildings should be useful, don’t you think?

I think about those long ago high school students passing in and out through this doorway as they get their foundation in life.  Did they carry this message with them to the sports field?  To the classroom or laboratory?  To their future oil and gas jobs Downtown?  Or maybe to overseas destinations during WWII?  Do they carry it with them still?

My inspiration?  Do I pass this message along to all the little ones I encounter?  The future mathematicians, writers, business peoples, convicts, mothers and fathers, and caretakers of the country?  Maybe I need to think about that.

Another door on the same building reads, “Ever Onward”.  Magical, is it not?


Alone Time

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What is it about being a wife and mother that makes “alone time” a guilty pleasure?  I spend my evenings and weekends in the sphere of the husband, who I adore.  I get next to nothing done.  I am all kinds of productive the moment he leaves the house.  I do not understand.

It’s not that the man bugs me or makes demands.  It’s just that when he is home, I live on the couch.  He doesn’t.  The man is ALWAYS busy.  Always working.  Always productive.

I don’t understand why I do this.

This year his Spring Break (and that of the offspring) was the week before mine.  One full week alone!  The Spring Break of Me!

I did yard work, cleaned the garage, lunched with friends, planted a lemon tree…all because I was alone.

Buckle up, Lemon Tree!

Buckle up, Lemon Tree!

I remember to blog when I am alone.  I enjoy it.

I feel guilty.  Like I must not love my family in the way I am supposed to.  I miss them.  If given the opportunity, I’d join them where they are.  I just seriously loved The Spring Break of Me, and hope I get to do it again sometime.


Ooops….I Forgot I Blogged…

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My internal editor has been far too efficient.  There are so many things I’d like to say…but probably shouldn’t.  Therefore, silence.

I will say this…I have a new coworker who shares my office suite* and who is quite delightful.  She can quote old movies.  She has lived EVERYWHERE.  But most importantly, she shares my opinion that Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire are fabulous and wonderful.  She can stay.

Mr. Darcy has moved away.  I’m too sad to discuss it.

All the pets are now microchipped so that I can be classified as a responsible pet owner.

My Starbucks reward card has now been updated to “GOLD”.  I’m very proud.  I keep those homedogs in business!

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*Office suite: what I have started calling the odd shaped collection of interconnected rooms that make up my office area.  I find it adds just that little touch of class.



Excitement on a Saturday Evening

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“What do you want to do?” he asks, wanting me to decide how the evening will go.  It’s not because he puts my entertainment first.  No.  It’s because he cannot think of anything to do himself.

I seem to always be tired.  Why am I so reluctant to tell him I want to do nothing?  I want only to sit on the couch in my jammies, watching Harry Potter movies, avoiding housework, and sharing the room with him.

That’s all.  I have simple needs.

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Mr. Darcy.  He understands, even if the husband does not.  It’s cat wisdom.