And his sister. We watched the graduation live online, but couldn’t pick him out from the hundreds.
He looks a bit shell-shocked, doesn’t he? 😉
We’re very proud, obviously, and praying for only good things in his new career. ❤
And a Funny Story
Look at my pretty babies! Growing out of their makeshift pots like fledglings falling out of nests…
Rocks are so chaotic, don’t you think? Seen from the street they might give a uniform appearance, but up close, it’s like a stony holy war.
Okay, here’s the story, more silly than funny. I’m still painting. (And yes, still on the first room. Go ahead and laugh. We’ll talk when you’re 60.) Everything is done in the master bedroom except baseboards.
While the bed was pulled out last week I painted the baseboards in that area, which included caulking. Now… I’m a very neat painter, but caulk? It gets everywhere, as if I simply open the tube and start spraying it with childish abandon… AND, instead of putting gloves on, my hands were nekkid. Of course. Well, it didn’t take too long for my right hand to be completely covered in caulk. And it freaked me out; that stuff just doesn’t want to come off! If only my store had Lava, but I can’t find it around here.
Dawn and Bartender’s Helper proved useless, so I ran into the bathroom and found some face wash… the kind with little beads to help exfoliate dead skin. Ew. So I’m washing… and washing… and the stuff’s not budging! In fact, the damned beads had stuck to the caulk, so now it looks -and feels- like I’m wearing a beaded glove.
Acetone saved the day, but how surreal there for a minute…
So Far This Week
When I first started blogging the posts came frequently because, honestly, there was some over-sharing. But like all bloggers, I finally realized that nobody wants to hear about breakfast or see pictures of iguanas riding the dogs.
This is my week so far…
Monday
Last day of cleaning the house. Yes, it took all weekend and then some. New houses are remarkably easy to clean and keep that way, but old houses are never really clean. Trust me.
I also met a new cat out in the driveway; a young-ish orange tom. He was pretty scarred from fighting, one paw was hurt and yes, he was on the lean side. After a pleasant chat and pet I walked away. Then he haunted my dreams for two nights. It’s hard to walk away, but if I became involved with every animal that needs help… really, just keeping up with YsD’s needs is becoming ridiculous.
Tuesday
I splashed 8 different paint colors on the master bedroom walls. The man and I don’t agree on any of them. He thought Ultra Bright White appropriate for the closet, but drew the line at blowing out his retinas first thing in the morning – if he could even sleep in an all-white environment. That’s vaguely racist, isn’t it? Well, maybe in today’s world.
Shaved Badger’s butt since she had the Big D for a few days and ohmygosh if I had to bathe that dog’s hind end one more time… It takes two full inches to get from the fringe to the hole, if you’re wondering. I knew you weren’t.
Wednesday
As WWIII approached I drew my battle plan; early dinner, thorough walks and televisions on loud. It wasn’t too bad, but c’mon… when it sounds like mortar fire is coming from mere feet away and your house shakes from the blasts… not too much helps. I sincerely hope there are no combat vets with PTSD issues living close to the ‘festivities’.
Thursday
Though the walls demand the *right paint, the need to run to Home Depot is negated by 100° temps. The plan is to remain cloistered, all drapes/blinds drawn like we’re hiding from the Feds. The only obstruction to peace has been the Amazon deliveries. No, I cannot go to WalMart like normal people. Meds would probably help with my overreaching introversion, but I don’t like going to doctors. Ha!
Worked out for the first time in weeks, though. When painting, i.e. ‘really working’, I tend to let the regular stuff slide. As long as the body moves around enough, it’s alright. That’s just a guess, though.
Wonder what tomorrow will bring?
*After a dozen not right paints, I’m willing to roll those walls with just about anything…
Canna Bloom
It’s going to be a good day.
Oh, I took this looking out my bathroom window. I wanted something pretty to look at…
Whiteout
I painted the master closet (yes, this is how small the master closet is; can you imagine the matchbox that is the guest closet?) Ultra Pure White and this is pretty much how it seems when I go in there.
Took me all weekend, which is more a nod to my age than anything else. It was only a prelude, though, because I plan on painting the whole house.
Should be done by this time next year. Ha.
Silver
It’s our 25th Anniversary today, Arthur and I. There’s so much I would/could say, but let’s leave it at this:
I’m very grateful to have been married to this good man for the last 25 years and I’ll take as many more as the Lord will give us.
Loving you always…
During Alberto
Tradescantia pallida, more commonly known as Purple Heart… and since I always post the first Crinum lily of the season… lily with Bree in the background. In people years the old girl is 83.
You can’t kill crinums. I pulled the entire bed up after Irma… about 60 of them… and threw the ones I wanted to keep in another bed. Not planted. They lay there dormant, looking door-nail dead, until I planted them again this Spring. Miraculous.
Alberto has been dumping massive amounts of water on us, but guess what? It’s monsoon season anyway. For two weeks before Al got here we were inundated every day. Fortunately we live on a sandbar.
I Call Them Littles
Daisy hunts and Badger shows the few teeth she has left. Sometimes I call her ‘Toofers’. Ah, the names we have for our dogs…
Voices
I hear voices; the murmurs of experience in my head when push comes to shove.
When taking a pill I always hear my Mom say “It’s good for you!” which enables me to swallow. For some odd reason. (Yes, I’m 60 years old!)
When I’m sick I drink plenty of fluids because I hear my friend Bonna say “Drink fluids! Hydrate!” She never put up with my bullshit and I believe she’s such a good mother now because she had to half-raise me.
And I hear my sister-in-law when my gut is bloated and gassy at 3:00am. “Don’t you have any Gas-X?” My internal reply is invariably YES to her answer “WELL??”
TMI? Here’s more. Bloated and gassy used to be my normal routine. That and miserable diarrhea. THEN I remembered my doctor’s mantra – “Get rid of GMO’s and Gluten”
So one month ago I cut gluten and lactose out of my life. Surgically removed them, more like. It was difficult; I dreamed about donuts for two weeks.
But the first day -well, the day after I started- I felt 1,000% better. I know, but the difference between totally miserable and totally wonderful is so far apart. I was me again! All my energy was back!! My stomach went flat and I could digest again! Over TEN pounds fell off the first week!
And I tested negative for celiac disease.
The internist talked to me for five minutes and proclaimed “You have IBS”. No, I don’t. I may have felt like it for a time, but he can take that crap down the road. There are people out there who really suffer from it and I’m sure they don’t appreciate it being some sort of catch-all just because Dr. Do-Little doesn’t give a shit.
So, hearing voices might be a crazy thing to do, but I’m not giving up on them any time soon. I may even add some. 😉
pamibe 