Birthdays

I've pondered all the Birthday wishes I have to catch up on from the past few months.  I don't know why I let life sidetrack me so.  At any rate, it will be done. I will catch up.  But there was one Birthday I was fixated on all week.  I worried how it would affect my lovelies in Kentucky.  It was their Dad's Birthday.  The 23rd of September. The first birthday without him.  It weight heavy on my heart for them. I knew there would probably be tears and brokenness. But I prayed for strength for them.  Near the end of this week, his birthday to be exact, I had a thought.  A very eye opening thought. . . . . .

We celebrate the day we are born.  Our "traditional" birthday.  Then, if you are a Christian and can remember the exact day, we celebrate the day we asked Jesus into our hearts.  Our "salvation" birthday.  But ~ in reality ~ as believers ~  when we close our eyes to this world and open them in glory ~ isn't that our true Birthday?  The day we die is actually the day we shed away all these old bones and nonsense and take on a new body.  We are literally a new being. A new "person". Knowing this helps to ease the pain of "death anniversaries" and prompts me to want to celebrate "Heavenly Birthdays". And if I see it this way, my Mom would be a mere 39 years old!  Thirty-nine!

It's just a thought to ponder.

It's not text book material.

It's not even written anywhere.

I just found comfort in that thought.

I eases the heartache.

Helicopter Ballroom

They're twirling madly in the air
These helicopters, everywhere

But this year they've upped their game
They don't look, to me, quite the same.

Instead of that motley shade of brown,
They've donned a different color gown.

This color is quite new to me
I had to look twice to see what I did see

Brown has always been the norm
For these "helicopters" in their swarm.

No, these weren't that shade of brown
That fluttered gracefully to the ground

But a delicate shade of pink
A lovely shade that made me think

What a delightful sight to see
A ballroom of pink dancing on the breeze.

What Are You?

Sometimes an early morning conversation sets the tone for the whole day.
Such was the case today.

Itty Bitty and I were sitting on my front steps waiting for the school bus.  She always has random thoughts in her little noggin.  Out of no where she tells me she heard pop music last night.  They (her family) weren't playing pop music, she heard it in the Village of Quantico. I feel my heart fluttering.  "Village".  What a descriptive word.  My mind immediately went to a cobblestone setting.

She proceeds to tell me she used to be a Townsman, but now she's a Villager.  Mommy, Effan, Rease, Helena and Annalynne are also Villagers. Mom-Mom, Pop-Pop, Ben,  Mr. Paul, Miss Carrwy,  Rease and Helena are Townsmen.  Well, she says, Rease and Helena are Villagers and Townsmen because they live there (little hand swings right) and here (other little hand swings left).  I can hardly stand it.  Of course MY imagination has little pointy caps or flat little beanies on everyone's head.

She then proceeds to tell me that maybe she's a Villager and a Townsman if her daddy lives in a town. And she thinks for a second and concludes that she's could be considered a Farmer too since Granny Bell lives on a farm.   Be still my heart. 

I put my Little Villager on the bus here in Town, waved goodbye and came in to ponder this morning's chat.  I knew I had to record this one for posterity.  I don't want to forget.  Ever.

But on a sad note, my Little Villager arrived back in Town after school with her jacket on.  It was only a gazillion degrees outside.  I don't say anything, but the minute she gets inside she wants me to take her temperature.  She's been coughing all day she says. I test her forehead, it's warm and her cheeks are flushed, so  I oblige her after she removes her shoes, visits the Little Girl's Room and washes her hands.  That gal had a temp of 101.4!  I asked if she had been cold or chilly today.  No, says she.  I had my jacket on.   Alrighty then.

I'm not sure she will ever know the imprint she's leaving on my heart.  The innocence of a child is the most refreshing thing you will ever experience.  I try not to change one bit of  her.  I love the way God made her.  In fact, I love the way God made all my family.  He knew them and formed them and I'm thrilled He did!

The Truck

Sometimes. . . . . . .

We have a thing here where we try to wave goodbye to family and friends as they leave.  Most of the time we make it.  However, this morning, we missed waving to the Boy.  Ittty Bitty, Turtle Dove and I were standing at the door waving goodbye to their Mommy.  I made the comment that we had missed the Boy this morning.  Itty Bitty said:  "He drove his truck."  Not sure if that was justification for missing him or not.  But, she continues on:

Ittty:  "He won't let me drive his truck." 
Me:  "Oh, yea?  He won't let me either."
Itty:  "He'll let Rease drive it."

Pause ~ thinking. . . . .(never a good sign)

Itty:  "He won't let me."
Me:  "Well, you're too little to drive  his truck."
Itty:  "Well, you're too old!" 
Me:  "I'm not too old!"
Itty:  "I can drive it.  I drive Annalynne's all around."

If she doesn't stop telling me I'm O.L.D., I think I may start believing it!  Maybe I'll even act it!
Now let's just move on to normal, everyday things like, I don't know, singing?

Not Much Time

The Little Itty Bitty Girl is obsessed with the fact that I am old 62.  She reminds me often that I'm almost 100.  Often.  Yesterday was no different, but she threw a stick in my spokes  before reminding of that fact ~ again.

She was home with me "recovering" from a little stomach bug.  Nothing good was on TV and I only let her play her Kindle for so long.  Out of boredom she did her spelling assignment on the computer using Spelling City.  I figured it would keep her up to par and she wouldn't have a lot of make-up work to do.  After that we perused  Netflix for a movie.  She loves the Tinker Bell movies and settled on "Tinker and the Neverbeast".  Apparently this "beast" was testy, then friendly, then not so nice.  The woodland fairy that befriended him in the beginning fell victim to his fury.  I'm not sure she really "died" or what.  I just know it was sad and she wasn't moving.  And then something happened (I missed that part) and she was moving again. 

This prompted Itty Bitty to ask me if dying was like sleeping.  I said,  a very deep sleep, I guess you could say.  She said "Yea, that's what I was thinking.".  I told her though, that the soul leaves the body.  She said she knew that.  (alrighty then).  Then came the kicker. The stick in the spokes that brought me to a halt.  She nonchalantly told me: "You don't have much time."  What? What do you mean?  (I knew where this was going).   "You're old." she says.  "You don't have much time left. You're almost 100."

Knock me over with a feather.  I've had the "almost 100" conversation with her before, but not the "not much time" one.  That was unexpected to say the least. Un-nerving.

That's it!  No more deep conversations with this girl!   Not any time soon, anyway.

Home Base

 According to Goldilocks:

"Mom-mom's house is home base.  When you are here no one can touch you.  Kind of like tag. It's where you go to be safe. They can chase you and hoover around home base, but they can't come onto home base.  You are safe.  But once you leave, you're fair game. Anyone can get you."

This was said to the Mama Bear yesterday while laying in my kitchen floor with her hands to her head in dread.  She'd been here since she got off the bus and dropped her things by Papa Bear's.  I knew why and watched the above scenario unfold after she told  Mama Bear her dilemma ~ as she had told me:

*Papa Bear got an email from Teacher stating her concerns about Goldi's academic situation.  Seems Goldilocks has been slacking a bit.  And. .  . she's had her phone on in class.  And Teacher had to rearrange seating for chatting reasons. Definite no-no's.  I scolded her about the phone and raised my eyebrows about the rest.  Apparently I didn't raise my eyebrows loud enough, because she told Mama Bear I didn't yell at her,  I just listened.  Oh, the joys of Grand-parenting.   But back to Papa Bear.  He texted our Little Goldilocks (while she was still in school) to say he had received the email and they would discuss it further when he got home. *

Thus the reason for the wringing of hands and the comfort of "Home Base". She wasted no time getting here, and stayed 'til the last possible minute.   Mama Bear wasn't any the more happy with her.  I felt like I needed to squirm.  Don't know why ~ . . . .  But I will say, I was glad I was on "Home Base" myself.  I did take the Mama and Papa Bear's sides.  We can't let our girl fall to the way side.  She needs to be held accountable. 

She got her phone taken away and she can't come to Mom-Mom's until her grades come up.  Now, WHAT did I do??  Seems to me she wasn't the only one to be punished here.  Yes, I am complaining, and whining.  And venting.  So much for taking the parent Bear's sides.  Pft. 

Oh, and in honor of today:  BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH!!!!
Who is your Brutus?!  I think mine is the Bear parents. 

I've not written a heart felt, deep thinking, no nonsense post in quite some time. It seems life has thrown her monkey wrenches in my plans at the most inopportune times. 

My days are filled with a one year old.  She is not the "monkey wrench", per se, but she stalls my plans, (my plans are not her plans.) I'm like a plane in a holding pattern. I know where I need to go,
but have to wait for the Tower (AKA: Turtle Dove) to allow me to proceed. I circle and wait, and finally with my landing gear out, I descend into the 5 o'clock hour. I roll to a jerky stop and hug my passengers as they exit the rear door.  By that time I am as worthless as a plugged nickel.

I can barely pull dinner off, let alone write on my blog.  If I didn't have everyday chores on top of cooking, I might have some free time.  Maybe.  I don't know.  Who knows, really?  Who? Not me, that's for sure.  Those two things, dinner and chores, are monkey wrenches. (Two of many.)

At any rate, it has been a hard start to a new  year.  Death cane calling.  Families weren't prepared. No one sees The Grim Reaper coming.  That is how he operates, unannounced and, most assuredly, unwelcome.  He doesn't discriminate. He's not picky.  And he's on no one's schedule. 

It's now well into March. I have to so much on mind and heart to write about, but not sure that I could find the right words even if I found the time.  Time.  They say it heals all wounds.  Does it?  Or does it just soften the pain?  At any rate, I know I will find the time when I find the words.  And I suppose that is the frightening part.  When the words come.  Because we know, when the words come, they will open wounds and leave way for pain to follow.  Again.  And  no one wants pain. Especially pain of the heart. 

Speaking of the heart.  My Boy and I were talking last week.  About the heart and how it responds to emotional situations.  He said (in his infinite wisdom) that if the emotional pain were severe enough it could cause the heart to stop beating (AKA - heart attack).  He said there were these "heart strings" within the heart  and they could break given the right circumstances.  It goes to show, one could literally die of a broken heart.   Don't know why I felt it important to share this.  I guess it causes one to ponder life's oddities and the complexities of the body and soul.

I suppose I should run along.  I have a ton of no-nonsense things that need to be done while the Little
Turtle Dove is sleeping.   And I need a fresh cup of octane, I mean coffee. 

Figuring Out Fall

Fall is that season that has created a love/hate relationship with us humans.  She doesn't do it intentionally or spitefully.  It is just one of those things. It happens.

Me?  Me, I love Fall.  I love all her beauty and grace.  I have pondered my love affair with Fall for quite some time.  Why she intrigues me so. Why she makes me feel the way she does.  I think I have come to some kind of conclusion.  I think. 

There is something about a season that can transition from a sweltering, sticky day into a cool, breezy one.  And then back again.  She will tease you with her coolness.  She will delight you with her colors.  And she will toy with your nostalgic side with her smells. She seems to do all this so subtly and effortlessly but with a calculated purpose. 

Her breath of cool air is much welcomed after smoldering temperatures have left us drained.  Her breezes seem to ease the tension gently from our bodies.  We too, can breathe. Regroup. She gives us warm days into cool nights and cool days into cold nights.  She prepares us for Winter.
 
Her colors are always s sight to behold.  She may move in quickly to change the landscape to her liking ~ seemingly working in the dark of night, that we may awaken to suddenly see a new world out our windows.  Or she may take her time to nonchalantly add a splash here or a dab there, gently easing into her vibrant, flashy raiment.

She has the power through her ability to change the landscape to cause us to reflect into our past, ponder our present and wonder about our future. 

Her colors are but, as they say, as season.  Soon the wind will blow a fire-y rainfall of leaves across the ground.  Unlike the wet stuff, the leaves gently swirl, drift, lift and land where they please.  Their gentle, breezy ballet is mesmerizing, causing one to daydream, stop and stare or frolic in the midst of them. 

The smells that come with fall are like a favorite blanket that not only keeps you warm, but affords you a safe place to ponder your thoughts, snuggled in, smelling the warmth of the fabric, feeling the textures of the cloth, protecting you from yourself.  That. Is.  Fall.  Your mind settles in, triggered by the smells she sends through the air, across the ground, up from the chimneys, in the early mornings, and the late of nights.  Memories and hopes arise from smelling the wispy, swirling vapor from the chimneys, observing the textures of the leaves and foliage, breathing in their musky smell kissed by the morning sun or chilled by the evening dew. 

It would be a harsh awakening moving from Summer into Winter without Fall.  She transitions us whether we like it or not.  I personally love it. I love her. 

Fall.

Happy Birthday, Bob!

Happy Birthday to the Tri-Wizard of Decades.

Stuck somewhere between John Lennon, Curly Howard and yourself!

Have a great day!

Love ya

Barb

Spray and Scary Things

Yesterday I re-brushed Itty Bitty's hair.  It was a hot mess, so her Mama asked me to re-do it before I sent her off to school.  I brushed it and pulled it up in a pony tail.  She has these little baby hairs that float around her face and are only cute for a minute before they become a full blown nuisance. I sent her up to grab the hair spray so I could tame her locks.  We make sure to cover eyes and her face when I spray.  When I was done I sent her back with the hair spray.  She came down and promptly asked me:

P:  "What happens if you get hair spray in your eyes?"
Me: "It would probably sting your eyes.  I think it has alcohol in it.  That's why we cover your eyes."
P:  "But what would happen?"
Me:  "Probably burn."
P:  "Would it make your eyes stick open?" 
Me:  (didn't see that coming).  "No, but it could make your eyelashes stiff, I suppose."


Itty Bitty's conversation on the 8th of August.

So it goes:
P:  " I cried yesterday."
Me:  "Why?"
P:   "Efan told me I would never see you again.  You got a new job."
Me:  Puzzeled
P:  "He said you got a job with the jury."
Me:  Thinking: "I knew this 'jury thing' was no good"

All because she wouldn't eat her dinner.  She's such a pokey little thing.
I told her she had to eat, otherwise she wouldn't grow up strong and pretty.

A little bit later she came to me and told me Efan (Mr. Beefy) was scared of the ghost of Jimmy Johnson.  I'm not sure where my mind may have traveled on this one. 
So it goes:

P:  "Efan's afraid of the Ghost of Jimmy Johnson."
Me:  Puzzled (again)
P:  "He said Jimmy Johnson wouldn't eat his dinner and he starved to death.  He died.  And Efan's afraid of him.  He has a sister, Jenny Johnson.  She didn't die.  She ate her food."
Me:  *in my head - alrighty then.
Me:  "Well, there you go.  Eat your food, lest you wind up like Jimmy Johnson."

Later at lunch I heard her making ghost sounds while she was eating. 

Mama said there'd be days like these.  Yep, she did.

Facebook Nonsense

Sometimes a post will pop up on FB that affords some kind of "scenario" ~ so to speak.  This one passed my itty bitty eyeballs yesterday.  Couldn't help myself.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  Well, in this case, I have to agree.

Hope Elisabeth Vain

Yesterday ·

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Happy birthday to my favorite golfer, boy, person and just my favorite everything! Can't wait to celebrate 17 with you!!! 💕 p.s. Please don't hate me because of that pic

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325Sarah Vain, Jennifer Vain and 3 others

Comments

Kristina Frischkorn Happy birthday Alan!! Hope you have fun celebrating

Like · Reply · 1 · Yesterday at 5:52am

Hope Elisabeth Vain replied · 1 Reply

Barbara Walton Rease I think I like this guy. I think I do! Tell him "Happy Birthday" from the Eastern Shore!

Like · Reply · Yesterday at 8:21am

Hope Elisabeth Vain He says thank you and says he wants to meet you!!!

Like · Reply · Yesterday at 8:33am

Barbara Walton Rease Hope ~ Is he sure he's ready to get aboard the Crazy Train?! It's not for the weak of heart, or faint of mind. I's one continuous circle with no stops. We just grab people as we go around . . . and on occasion throw someone off. No refunds, return trips or destination changes. Let him be warned! :)

Like · Reply · 1 · Yesterday at 11:19am

Hope Elisabeth Vain Barbara Walton Rease I think he for sure I shall warn him about this! But we aren't that crazy

Like · Reply · Yesterday at 11:37am

Barbara Walton Rease Hope ~ says the girl who's dating a guy wearing a dress and a necklace in one pic and in another looks like he could drool on your face at any moment. I think he'll find the perfect seat on our train ~ right next to you. Don't be in denial! lol

Like · Reply · 6 hrs

Hope Elisabeth Vain Barbara Walton Rease that is true, that is true!

Like · Reply · 6 hrs

Barbara Walton Rease Hope ~ I love you! ! !

Like · Reply · 5 hrs

Hope Elisabeth Vain Barbara Walton Rease I love you and miss you very much

Like · Reply · 5 hrs

Barbara Walton Rease I miss you too! Summer was waaay too short. One week just doesn't cut it anymore, does it? Trying to figure out when I can sneak away for a visit. :)

Like · Reply · 3 hrs

Hope Elisabeth Vain Barbara Walton Rease if this doesn't convince you then idk what does, but you can meet the boy in the dress😉

Like · Reply · 3 hrs

Barbara Walton Rease Well, I think I'm convinced ~ now to work on plans!

"Needy"

I had an epiphany this morning.

My Boy had said to me something along the lines of: "a girl being needy".

I pondered these words as I was throwing laundry into the dryer.

I realized ~ women in general are a needy lot.

We need:
To love, be loved and feel love
To be independent but dependent
Affirmation, support and acknowledgement
Appreciation
Freedom to be ourselves, but belong to someone
To be creative
To cry, laugh and be quiet. Sometimes all at once.
Company and quiet time ~ alone.  Sometimes at the same time.
Affection
To play and be serious
To ponder all that is and all that will be.
To be emotional without judgment
To be protective and protected
To be soft and firm at the same time
To fix what we think needs fixing

Therefore, we are needy.

I'm sure the list could go on and on.
If you are a woman and think none of these things apply to you, well, I'm sorry for your loss.

I know without a doubt we needed men so we could be women.  Without them,  we aren't.
God didn't make a mistake in making Adam first.  He made Adam in His image and realized, I think, He needed an emotions roller coaster to be his help mate. No need letting him go  through life's ride all by himself.  God then needed Adam to make us. We needed Adam to exist.  There's no shame in that!  We then wrapped all our emotional mumbo jumbo around the corner post God provided us with.  Men may not understand, but that's ok. They just need to realize and know that fact ~ 'cause let's face it ~ it's a bigger picture than they can see. 

Go ahead ~ be needy (not cling-y).  Need the things that make you who you are.  Own them. Don't settle for what the world is trying to impress on you.  Look within and you'll see you already have all that and then some.  So don't get your britches in a bunch, be the woman you want to be and be thankful for those men in this world because without them, we wouldn't be.  They are our corner post, not our whipping post.  We are their equal, not their superior.
 
End of epiphany.

I'll get off my soap box now. 

Strawberry Fields and A Rainy May

Drippity-do-dah, Drippity-yay
My oh my, what a dreary day

Plenty of rainfall's
Been coming our way
Drippity-do-dah, drippity nay!

It. Has. Rained. The. Whole. Month. Of. May!  So it seems.
I am sick of it. Sick, sick, sick.

It has really put a damper on life outdoors around here.
The pool may never see the light of day is still closed.
The strawberry field is a mud pit full of green berries.
And I was in a quandary! I didn't pick last year because of all the rain.  And let me just say, I am still getting grief about it.  And not just from family members.  Pft. 

Goldilocks and I went picking last Sunday (one of very, very few sunny days).  We were there for what seemed like ages.  We came out with two buckets of berries.  It was a struggle just to get that!
I sent some home with Goldilocks for her effort and kept some.  Wouldn't you know I threw away a third of what was left!  Rotten little buggers!  Cut the rest up for strawberry short cake.

So I waited impatiently for more sunshine so I could go again.  This past Friday presented a good window of opportunity to do that.  So half may Aaron and Hur team (Lady Di) and I teamed up with TEN buckets and loads of enthusiasm.  Surely now there would be berries after two days of sunshine.  Surely.  Off to the field we went!  After what seemed like For. Ev. Er.  we walked out of there with TWO, yep, TWO buckets of berries between us. Some of them were, let's say, questionable as far as ripeness goes. The odds were not in our favor. 

I pondered for about a day as to what I should do with my bucket.  I spread them out on a cookie sheet hoping to deter the "rotten berry syndrome".  Worked pretty well I must say.  So, what to do with them?  I have an order for two strawberry pies for one of Ben's friends, plus I want one myself.
I have been getting stink-eye expectant looks and insulting subtle hints for jam.  You know you've created a monster you're appreciated when the recipients of your gifts give your jam jars back all nice and clean. (with a smile on their face) 'cause you know they want that jar back ~ filled again!  So needless to say, that one bucket of berries wasn't going to fill that tall order!  So.... I made an executive decision:

I washed all the berries.  This is about half of them.

They did finish ripening up nicely yesterday.

 I cut them up.

Got the cooking supplies ready.
See where this is going?

Threw the crushed up berries in the pot with the ingredients I needed.
Do you know yet?

And I made jam.

Eight small jars to start with.  I'm holding out hope against the odds that I can pick again and make more jam.  I am. 

There was enough berries left to make a couple pies, but not another batch of jam.  So it all worked out. 

I've been toying with the idea of charging for this stuff!  Wonder if the kidlings would go for it? 

Bahahahaha!  Who am I kidding?!  They would melt down into a puddle.

Put your name in the pot now.  That may be the only way you get jam this year!  

Kissed by A Stranger

Some "Me" time was gifted to me today.
Only because our Little Turtle Dove wasn't quite herself and had Mama up since 2:00am. 

Well now, what say ye?  What shall I do with this unexpected gift?

Ahh, I know!  I shall have a coffee date with L'Oréal!  She won't mind the impromptu-ness!  She's flexible like that.  I've been putting her off for  a couple weeks  now, due to one thing (Little Turtle Dove) or another (Little Turtle Dove).  Our visits are short ~ about an hour or so, so when she bid me adieu I was left to figure out something else.  Not that that was a hard thing to do since I heard Marshalls, Target and Hob Lob all beckoning to me! They did so in such a sweet voices that I couldn't say "NO".

So, "YES", it was!  I ate my breakfast, did my devos and out the door I sprinted ~ kinda.

(Oh, I did throw a load of laundry in while L'Oréal was here.  She didn't mind.  Not at all.)

Marshalls first.  Beach towel and decorator pillow envy.  This place makes me swoon. Glad I was only window shopping!

Then to trusty ol' Target.  Let's see if we have any "steals" today.  There probably were, but they were stocking and I couldn't focus, so I headed out.  And this is what was waiting for me:

Some strange car was literally kissing the bumper of my Red Tin Can!  I know she's not pretty, but she's not easy.  Come on now.  I'm not sure what scared me more, the bumper kisser or the lady in the SUV near me.  In her scary smoker's cough voice she says to me:

"I saw them do it when I pulled up.  They didn't hit it, they just touched it."  Now, I'm no rocket scientist, but I think for a car (Hi-Ho-Silver, there)  to end up touching another car (my Red Tin Can), they have to hit it.  Plain and simple.  Kinda like my car. 

No, I didn't hang around for Hi-Ho-Silver's owner to come out.  I mean, look at my car, then look at theirs. Pft. Silver was almost as bad as Red.   I am grateful, however, they didn't lock bumpers.  The last thing I want to do was drag a stray home.  I have enough hostile engines in my driveway as it is. I'm not adding a stranger to the pile.  Who knows what quirks it harbors. 

Last stop was The Hob Lob.  I love to browse that store!  Sooo many ideas come to mind.  I oogle over all the bric-a-brac-y stuff first and then spend my time gazing wistfully at the fabric.  I think I may have a borderline fabric obsession.  Just borderline. 

Then it was homeward bound (reminds me of a song).  I just had to remember it's Gosling Season and be mindful of the gaggle of Mamas, Papas and Goslings sauntering across the street, holding up traffic on occasion.  I think those geese think they own the world.  I think we think that too, because we stop and let them mosey along, all 10,000 of them. 

Oh, and it's raining ~ A. G. A. I. N.  As if we haven't had enough.  I'm sure I'll go bat crap crazy when the Sun does decide to shine for more than a day or two. 

Well, that's if for now. 

I'll catch ya on the flip side, Lord willin' and the creek don't rise! 

Wrong Number

We all get them ~ someone calling ~ or in this case texting ~ the wrong number.
If I am the culprit, I profusely apologize and go on. Sometimes it takes the culprit on the other end to actually realize he/she's dialed the same wrong number twice before they move.  And ~ they usually apologize.

But then, then we have that one, not up to par with 'wrong phone number 'phone etiquette, culprit. The one that takes advantage of the situation.

Case in point:  Yesterday a "302" number texted me.  I responded simply because I have family in the  "302" vicinity and thought it may be one of them.  Here's how it went down:

Wrong number:  "What's up with my survey??? Th millsboro dodge"
Wrong number:  "TJ*"
Wrong number:  "Hook me up"

All three texts before I could respond.

Me:  "what???"

Wrong Number:  "My survey I asked u to fill out"

Me: " i think you have the wrong number :/"

Wrong number:  "I'm sorry.  This is Harold right? You still in Markey for a new truck?"

Um, What part of 'wrong number' confuses you?  AND,  if you have the wrong number, why on God's green earth would you apologize and then ask if I'm "Harold right?"   Why?

Me:  "no - this is NOT Harold - you have the wrong number!"

Wow!  We really do not understand those two words 'wrong number', now do we? Dazed and confused.

Wrong number:  "O ok sorry"
Wrong number:  "Well are you in the marke for a new or used vehicle? I have the deals?"

Oh. My. Word!  Are you kidding me???

Me:  "N.  O."

End of convo.  I must give the dude credit.  He had some amount of confidence even after eventually realizing he had the wrong person to pursue a sale.  Can't give him any credit though for his punctuation or spelling.  Don't think I would score  much of a deal from this guy, especially since he seems to questioning them himself.

'til next time,
This is "Harold" signing off.

PS - Spell check lit up like a Christmas tree!

Before I Forget

Much has happened since my last "serious" blog post.  I honestly don't remember a lot of it.  But there are a few things that have just stuck with me.

I always say, if you need to speed, you needed to leave earlier.  So I said.  I wasn't needing to be anywhere at a specific time but I was hasty. Thus the following:

For some odd reason I had both Reasy Peacy and Goldilocks during a weekday.  I don't know if the HS was using it's building for PSAT testing or what, but never-the-less, I didn't have Ittly Bittly.
I decided to take the girls on a fabric excursion since we had the day together and well, you know, the fabric store was calling.  We pile in the red tin can, buckle up and off we go. We are just chatting away going down Lillian.  As I approach the bend I see a sheriff's car parked in a lot.  I look at my speedometer and notice I'm going 40 (in a 30 mph zone).  No need to slow down now.   I round the bend preparing to pull over just as Reasy Peacy says:  "Oh look, Mom-mom, the cop has his lights on."  "Yes, Rease, those would be for me." I reply as I'm pulling over.  We go through the usual, license, registration, and waiting.  Reasy Peacy is in the front with me.  She proceeds to tell me:  "That is Deputy Donut from Mardela."
Oh yea?  Then she says, ever so sweetly: "I may or may not have made him angry at me at school."
"WHAT? Turn around and look out that passenger window.  Do NOT make eye contact with that man.  Do not say ANYTHING!" I warn her.  She's cracking up.  I'm not.  Last thing I wanted was a ticket because "Deputy Donut"  recognized a student he had to rebuke.  He did give me a warning ~ asking when the last time I was pulled over.  Geeze ~ years ago, why?  'Cause apparently I had two incidents on my record.  But, in his defense, he couldn't tell me when.  (I'm understanding his name now)  And, I just realized ~ Goldilocks sat silent the whole time.  Hmmm.

To and insult to injury:  Next day Kellifer told me she was putting on her make up and watching the news when Ittly Bitty came down the stairs. 
Itty Bitty:  "Oh man. I missed it!"
Kellifer:  "Missed what?"
Itty Bitty:  "I thought they were going to say something about Mom-mom speeding."

Okie dokie. Thank you girls for sharing that event.  

Let's continue, shall we?

I had  Itty Bitty this weekend.  We are sitting on the sofa with our gadgets.  She is so close to me she might as well be sitting in my lap.  She does that.  Anyway, she nonchalantly says to me:  "Mom-mom, you married the right Pop-pop for me."  Awe.   No words.


*edited* ~ I was "informed" by Goldilocks that Officer Donut is really Deputy Donut. 
Well, gee willikers Mr. Wilson.

The Little Turtle Dove

Last week I watched the Little Turtle Dove for the first time ~ all day ~ all week ~ by myself.  Well, mostly by myself and mostly all week.  I was beyond  nervous keeping her ~ not because I didn't know what to  do, but because I didn't know what she liked to do!  Fortunately God works all things out!  School was delayed Monday for the HS students due to testing so Reasy Peacey was here with me until 10:00.  Tuesday I had all the hooligans because school was closed due to the Primary Elections.  Wednesday I was on my own.  Thursday Reasy was here until 10:00 again due to HS testing. The girls filled me in as we went and all went well!   And Friday ~ her Daddy had her (I was nervous for him too!) 

Thank goodness she's an easy, delightful baby to be around!  Makes my job much more pleasurable.

Having Rease here helped me while I got the bus schedule figured out (again). She was my extra set of eyes and ears.  Not to mention it was a N. A. S. T. Y. week last week.  One day was just a deluge of rain!  And it was cold.  So cold I had to turn our heat back on.  I was afraid she would turn into a popsicle!

Itty Bitty left her lovie for her little sister to help her make a smooth transistion.  It's almost as big as she is!   It melted my heart.

I must not be doing too badly, she's smiling. . . . .

. . . . . and napping!  Brief as it was, it was a nap!

 

We are on week two now.  I think I have a system (very flexible system) in place.  We should do fine.

As long as The Little Turtle Dove is happy, Mom-Mom is happy.