Something at Which I'm Good!

As promised in my last blog.

 Here's a hint:

YES!

I am a great gift wrapper!

This, my latest, is for

Miss Emily Marie Oliver and Mr. John Deaso!

Of course, I gift wrap just like I do everything else.

Meticulously, painstakingly, and taking foreverly!

If I leave a package sitting on my counter,

I tweak the bow every time I walk by--

approximately 762 times.

Yes, it has been tweaked to death by the time

it is presented and opened.

Here are some samples of my Christmas packages:

(They may look a little boring because all 

absolutely must fit the color scheme,

but of course!)

Now this next masterpiece is a birthday gift--

something very special for one of the girls.

But darned if I can remember what it was!

Its bow is actually orange ribbon on beautiful 

stained glass design paper.

I got a deal on orange ribbon!

Speaking of ribbon, that has become a problem.

I am beholdin' to Susan for my knowledge of

how to make my bows.

Many years ago there was a small shop at

North Hills Mall

which sold ribbon and matching bows which they made.

Sus boldly asked them how to make the bows,

while I cowered in fear that they would say,

"Well, why would we reveal that to you?!"

But they didn't and they did--and very nicely.

The ribbon they used was flimsy and inexpensive,

(cheep, cheep)

but widely available at the time.

All of a sudden I realized it had disappeared

from the market.

So, what does one do in that case?

One Googles "cheap paper-like ribbon!"

I ordered several colors--but not orange!

I realize that most folks have switched to lovely

bags and tissue for their gifts, 

but I still like hearing, "Oh, that's a Mimi bow."

Or, "We know who this one's from!"

 

It's something I enjoy, until

Chrismas Eve when I still have unwrapped presents!

At that point, you might find me going

for the sack of stick-on bows!

Something at Which I'm Lousy!

And if you tell me you're good at it,

I'm going to be suspicious.

It is: approximating distance.

Especially in "yards."

In case you're wondering what in the world

could have prompted me to think about

such an important issue this morning, it is this

article which was on my Facebook feed:

WFAA-TV

7 hrs ·

No floaties needed! In the video, the bucks were crossing from one island to another, and the man who shot the video estimated that they swam approximately 700 yards across the lake.

Must See: Two bucks swim across Lake Ouachita

 I do point out that the information quotes a man as

estimating the distance of this swim as

"approximately 700 yards."

I think it is usually a man thing.

Now if I had seen this fascinating sight, I probably

would have said,

"You just wouldn't believe how far they swam!"

Sad but true.

That would be the best I could do. 

(But I might be good at rhyming.)

Did this man really know how far 700 yards is?

I mean, how the heck do you even do this?

I might be able to estimate feet--sometime.

And I know there are 3 feet in a yard.

But 700 of them?  No clue.

I think my pal Judge Judy acknowledges this problem.

I can just feel you wondering how I know that.

Well, when she is trying a case involving distance,

she says,

"Point to something in the courtroom which is

about as far away as you're indicating."

Not, "How many feet."

And certainly not, "How many yards!"

Next post will be "Something at Which I'm Good"

(if I can come up with anything!)

Dear Donald:

First let me say that
I am a big fan of The Apprentice,

even though watching it makes me very nervous.

I would be so bad at the tasks the contestants

have to execute.

And I would refuse to call you "Mr. Trump"

because,

even though you are richer,

I am older!

Now I've been known to timidly say several times
(kinda quietly)

that I would might vote for you for President.

 Actually, there is only one reason for that.
You know how to handle money!

I think you could come closer than anyone else

to balancing our ridiculous, bloated, over extended

U. S. Budget!

I had no idea you would actually consider

throwing your hat into the ring.

Now that you've done that,
I have some serious concerns.

 

This is going to be an uphill battle for you,

Donald.

All anyone wants to talk about is your hair. 
And your ability to fire people. 
You don't appear to be doing anything to alleviate
this situation.

 Criticizing McCain right off the bat in the way

you did?

Not a good move.

Hardly the best way to kick off your campaign.

You may need to hire a "handler." 
Or a whole squad of advisers.

Now I haven't been able to force myself to read

all the other probably stupid uproars you

have created. 

Let's get serious.

You need to settle down a bit--no, a lot!

You need to accentuate the positive.

Assure us that we will not all end up as indentured
servants to the rest of the world!

Tell us you can fix Social Security!

 

Didn't your mother ever tell you,

"Think before you speak?"

You may not have had to do that in business,

since you hold the purse strings.

But, if you are going to hold the purse strings

of our nation, you may have to develop

a bit of humility.

(I'm afraid you may have to look that

word up in a dictionary.)

That's all for now.

I'll be watching hopefully for some positive news 

from you.

Show 'em you really can

Make America Great Again.

  Signed: Linda L. Stovall

A {Skeptical} Potential Supporter 


P.S. (I always have to have a P.S.)
I am very confident, Donald, that we citizens
would not have to DEMAND that
you lower the flag to half staff at the
White House if five of our beloved military
personnel were assassinated on your watch.

                    L.L.S.

 

"You Don't Listen"-- "You Mumble"

If you are a married person--past or present--

and

you do not identify immediately 

with the title of this post,

then

I don't know if we can still be friends.

Having experienced so many of these

conversations myself,

I just don't know if I can "click" with someone

who never has!

SHE:  "Did you hear what I just said to you?"

HE:  "Whaaat?"

SHE:  "DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME?"

HE: "No.  I didn't know you were talking to me."

HE:  "Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah."

SHE:  "I can't hear you!

Could you please at least be in the same

area of the house as I am when you talk to me?"

HE:  "Could you please just listen!"

SHE:  "Why is it that you go suddenly deaf when

we get in the car?"

HE:  "I do not go deaf.  You mumble.

Besides, there's road noise."

SHE:  "Could you possibly not start to talk 

to me as you are leaving the room and facing in

the opposite direction???"

HE:  "Yes, because I don't do that."     

 Please tell me it wasn't just us.

 

       

My Facebook Opinion(s)

Last week I got this email about

 Facebook:

Presently, I am trying to make friends outside of Facebook while applying the same principles. Therefore, every day I go down on the street and tell the passers-by what I have eaten, how I feel, what I have done the night before and what I will do tomorrow night.  Then I give them pictures of my family, my dog and me gardening and spending time in my pool.

 

I also listen to their conversations and I tell them I love them.

 

And it works.

 

I already have 4 persons following me:  Two police officers, a psychiatrist and a Cub Scout named Chester.

I think this is hysterical!

But it does represent the way a lot of folks feel

about Facebook.

If one felt this way 364 days a year, I might understand.

But...

Not on one's birthday.

Who can deny that getting up on your birthday to

greetings from people who would never

have had any idea it was your special day

were it not for Facebook is...

very exciting!

The first thing I did this morning is

thank God that He allowed me to celebrate

another birthday!

The second is look at Facebook.

(Actually, I got a head start by posting a

photo yesterday of my family treating me in Waco!)

I can't deny that I'm just basking

in all the attention!

Thank you so much for making

me feel special on this ancient birthday!

I really do love you, each and every one!

P.S.  I love Facebook 365 days a year.

My Dog Has Fleas

No, I'm not using this little ditty to

tune my ukelele.

Disaster has befallen.

Horror of horrors.

The princess has fleas.

 

I couldn't believe it when I got the call from

her beloved groomer.

Surely there is some mistake. 

Say it isn't so!

It made me feel like a failure as a dog mommy.

She has no friends or buddies 

from whom to acquire fleas.

She is so dainty and delicate and girly.

The groomer got rid of all the nasty little boogers.

I have medicine to give her if they reappear.

I called my exterminator ready to spray the

yard and bomb the house.

He was so kind as to recommend I wait awhile,

and not go to those extremes yet.

Here she is hiding in my closet on July 4th.

I thought she was just afraid of the fireworks,

but poor thing. 

She may have been ashamed of her fleas!

I LOVE YOU UNCONDITIONALLY,

CHARLEIGH-GIRL.

 You little fleabag!

 

I Keep My Calendar In My Head

In May of 2012 I wrote a blog about the sameness 

of my life every day--especially every morning.

Responsible for no one but myself and Charleigh-Girl,

I said I am not only on a fixed income,

I am on a fixed routine!

I groggily hoist myself out of bed.

I pad my way to the kitchen, with an already

perky C-G on my heels.
I open the kitchen window shutters, 
 grab a glass of water and start downing it.

I turn on the coffee maker.
I get the doggy food out and measure it

into her bowl, then try to get it to the floor

before she knocks it out of my hands.

I turn off the outside lights and the alarm.

Every morning.  Day after day.
Exactly the same.

Yesterday vividly showed me that I MUST 

add something to my routine.

Here's why...

I have lunch once a month with my FOLS.

(That's "Friends of Long Standing")

(In lieu of Old)

We meet at the Rose Garden Tea Room and

dine and visit for hours!

Yesterday was the day.  

We show up right at 11:30 and even have

"our" table reserved in a corner.

We've been doing this so long that we also

have "our" server, Juanita.

Juanita seemed confused when she saw me.

And Sandra (one of the FOLS) had not

reserved our table.

And it was so unusual for me to be first.

Hmmm.

But...I sat down, got my Rose Garden tea

and began munching on the wonderful munchies.

After a few minutes, I texted Beverly and

asked her if they were paying me back for last month.

(I had forgotten last month and was actually

in the Milwaukee airport, delayed in my flight

 to New York on Southwest Airlines, when they called.)

I didn't hear from her, so what did I do?

I also texted Sandra and Barbara!

Well, well, well.

At some point--I don't know when,

I don't know how,

I realized that today could hardly, any way, possibly

be the first Tuesday in July!!!!!!!

Yes, that's when we meet.

The first Tuesday of the month. 

And ohhhh, how humiliating.
Juanita knew all along!!!

So, you ask, what am I changing in my morning routine?
I am adding a step.
"Look at your calendar, Linda!"
"Stop depending on your memory, Linda!"
"It's no good, Linda!"


And...remember...there's always always
something to be thankful for:

1.  I realized the error of my ways before Beverly
called me back.
2.  I don't mind eating alone.
3.  The special of the day--salmon croquettes--
was delicious.
4.  I had the munchies all to myself.


Gotta go.  Already forgot to check my calendar
this morning.