Recently seen on Facebook...a friend essentially looking for a playdate for her significant other while she is busy with something. Is this weird, or is it just me? I'm settling on weird, but that's just me.
Friday, February 24, 2017
Well. Who's been a lazy blogger this week? Mememememe! I have been busy, though, that's the best excuse I can come up with. The laundry room has new flooring and has reached a point of near total organization. I have made my bed three times. I have shopped for groceries. I have been standing up for free speech and signing petitions and need to call a couple of Washington people. I still have a nagging cough that is normally brought on only by laughing or getting a lungful of chilly air. In between breathing outside and finding things funny I feel pretty darn healthy. A dear friend turned fifty this week. While I find this milestone bordering on impossible to believe, that may just be denial about a certain upcoming birthday of my own. I'm almost out of beer. I need to get back to matching up totes with lids. I'm not the least bit OCD.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
I am convinced that my printer/scanner is demonically possessed. Nothing else can explain its erratic behavior. Yesterday I was ready to throw it out the window, except that would have required lifting it over my head and heaving it forward. My hands were not up to the task so I swore at it and turned it off instead. This morning I went in to print out my Sunday crossword puzzle. Upon clicking on print, the darned thing roared to life and printed! Not just my crossword, mind you, but nine three page copies of my federal income tax return. Leaving me to assume that I must have clicked on the print icon nine times with no response from the evil printer whilst filing my taxes. I then gave up and saved the PDF to my desktop with the idea of trying later. I turned everything on and off numerous times and went through the process of printer-search-and-recognition as well as logging the printer on to the wireless network to no avail. Then, just for fun, I attempted to scan a couple of photos I wanted to post yesterday. Surprise, surprise, no success! I think I aced the crossword, though. I'll confirm or deny that conclusion later when I'm able to find the answers online. I've never had a problem with finding them before. In reverse-virus process, it seems the demonic plague that was exorcised from my printer is now infecting crossword solutions on the interwebs. I do apologize if anyone else is experiencing similar difficulties. I suggest lighting a candle, spinning around three times clockwise after tossing salt over your left shoulder, and consulting your horoscope. Oh, and enjoy the photos I would have posted yesterday. Scanning was successful today.
Freezing in the courthouse.
Obligatory garter shot.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Thirty-one years ago I woke up, went through my regular morning routine and went to work. It was a Tuesday. Not just any Tuesday, mind you. I was done at noon. I had a hair appointment. I walked into the salon with a dried flower headband that Cindy braided into my hair. I was dressed in jeans and an old denim shirt. Allen and I went to Nick's Hamburgers and had a late lunch. We were in the habit of going to Nick's on auspicious days to celebrate whatever big thing was going on in our lives. A couple of hours later we were at the courthouse with Brenda and Dave. We had an appointment with the judge to get married. We waited outside his chambers and the clock crept forward past our scheduled time. I was chilly, the cavernous stone building had absorbed the cold of the three previous months and my dress was lacy and gossamer-thin. I think I was visibly shaking by the time the judge opened his door and gestured us in. He seemed a bit distracted, frazzled even, as the four of us, bride and groom, maid of honor and best man, assembled inside his paneled office. Turns out he was was in the middle of a trial and had recessed briefly to officiate at our wedding. He was agitated over the testimony of the defendant, whom he was convinced was lying. He said so, and needed some time to calm down, read through the transcript and decide if there were grounds for perjury. I was grateful for the warmth of the room but still felt as though I was shaking, if only internally. The judge was looking over our marriage license and recognized Allen's name. I remember thinking, this can't be good. Several months earlier, Allen had written a letter to this very judge on behalf of a friend who was serving time in the state penitentiary to ask that his friend's sentence be shortened. That if he served his full sentence, it was likely that his marriage would be over and his life would suffer irreparable setbacks. I felt as if a pall had been cast over our day, the day we were committing our lives to one another. First by the ongoing trial in the next room, then by the troubles of another couple whose marriage was likely over. Three's a charm was the thought that crept to the front of my brain. I wonder sometimes why this memory lingers in crystalline crispness so many years later. And if it was a glimpse into the future of our marriage. Perhaps an indication that it wasn't built on such solid ground after all. It was snowing outside when we left the courthouse. Big, feathery flakes landed softly on us and the car. The kind of snow that is easily brushed away. Just as I brushed away my doubts over the promise of til death do we part that had been uttered mere minutes earlier.
Friday, February 17, 2017
Pardon me if I've posted this photo of Cullen before. It cracks me up. And today, on the occasion of what would have been the day he turned 53, I need to smile. Back in the days of film and a frugal mom, you only hauled out the camera for auspicious celebrations, and then only snapped a couple of photos. You wouldn't know for probably weeks if any of them turned out well. Or at all. Here the birthday boy was captured just before extinguishing all seven candles with one mighty blow. Happy birthday, Cully. You are loved and you are missed.
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
We're talking about the puzzle, children. Specifically the Sunday crossword. I'm not chastising anyone nor am I cranky. So. I enjoy my Sunday morning routine. I make coffee, I have some sort of treat, a pastry or cookie or sometimes an English muffin with some lovely jam, and put on some music. Then I sit down with the crossword and the accompanying cryptogram. I used to have to brave the weather and cross the street to retrieve my newspaper, but now I access it online. Once I got moved, that paper version was no longer available, so I bought a couple of local papers to fulfill my puzzle needs. Not being happy with those alternatives, I ran across an incredibly cheap online deal for the paper I used to subscribe to. Incredibly cheap. Ten bucks for six months. I then proceeded to be annoyed for six months. I needed to print out the puzzle from the e-version of the paper and the source was blurry and smaller than the hard copy had been. Meh. Better than nothing, right? The six months went by and even though I received the email allowing me access, there was a paywall greeting me when I attempted to log in. So I did what I should have done back in June. I did an online search for the puzzle. And found it. For free! It prints beautifully in a large, clear and legible format. I bought a book of of three hundred plus cryptograms and I was back in business! It's not just that I enjoy the puzzles, I feel like it's brain exercise. You know, that use it or lose it thing. Doing the crossword also gives my right hand something of a workout. Writing a legible letter inside of a tiny box helps retain my fine motor skills, as diminished as they are. Sunday morning is starting to sound like a spa appointment. All I need is a massage artist and and a hot tub. Amazing what you feel you can afford when the crossword puzzle is free.