Does anyone else feel a sense of lightness since the Biden administration took over from the previous potus? Are you sleeping better? Enjoying ordinary stuff that you feared was gone forever?
I know I am. Good, eight hour nights of deep sleep. No more high blood pressure or indigestion. As God is my witness. I’ll never take this feeling for granted again.
Peace, people.
Shoulder sent me to the chiropractor today. We’ve been working on giving me some range of motion without making me howl in pain. At the end of the session Dr. Cal (who kind of reminds me of Matthew McConaughey) sent me to a walk-in orthopedic center. There, they x-rayed my shoulder, determined that I have some arthritis, bursitis, and maybe even other “itises“ yet to be named.
The orthopedist gave me a shot of cortisone and hopefully that, along with continued physical therapy, will help me get back to my normal wacky activities. All this pain—has resulted in my gaining five pounds, and it’s ticking me off.
I’ll be more chipper tomorrow. Oh, if you need something to read on this cold February weekend, might I suggest a couple of books? Suitable for Framing, a cozy mystery by Lori Roberts Herbst and my own novel, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, a quirky road trip story set in east Texas. They’re both available from Amazon and as an ebook on Kindle. And the reviews are really good. It’d probably make my shoulder feel better if you bought the books.
Ah, the things I can’t remember:
What I had for dinner yesterday.
The name of the little doohickeys that cover the valves on my tires. I had to pantomime yesterday while having my car serviced.
At least once a day, where I last put my phone.
How to knit. I once knew how, but now I don’t. Apparently knitting is nothing like riding a bicycle.
How to dance the Macarena.
The last time I had real cheese. This one made me cry. If only I’d known it was the last time, I’d have savored every single bite.
Similarly, I can scarcely remember what a Dr. Pepper tastes like. All I’m certain of is that it’s nothing like cheese.
How to diagram a sentence. I once was skilled at this task.
Names. Faces. It’s awkward when I have to ask my husband, Studly Doright, to wear a name tag.
How to play a saxophone. I was never a great musician, but I miss the camaraderie of band. I wonder if I could join an air band…
But I do remember most of the dialogue from Star Wars, A New Hope, and all the words to The Heart of Rock and Roll. I know John Cowsill’s birthday and Studly Doright’s social security number, as well as my own.
I remember the day I realized I couldn’t marry Elvis Presley. Not because of the immense age difference (I was five; he was in his twenties), but because my name would then be Leslie Presley.
I remember how it felt to hold my babies for the very first time. That new baby smell is still fresh in my mind. And I remember all five of my grandkids’ birthdays. Sometimes I don’t remember how old they are, but at least I get the date right.
Going to high school football games in late November when it was so cold I couldn’t feel my cheeks, but loving being squashed in between the grownups in my life, pretending my hot chocolate was coffee just like they were drinking.
I remember saying “I do” and meaning it, even though I didn’t really understand the commitment I was making at the time. Does anyone?
I remember my mom’s smile and my dad’s laugh, and honestly, what else matters?
Peace, people.
My esteemed husband, aka Studly Doright, and I only discovered Netflix a couple of years ago. Yes, we were living in our own special version of the Stone Age, but now we have seen the light. Not only do we enjoy Netflix, but we’ve also dipped our toes into the Disney streaming service and Amazon Prime. We feel enlightened.
Here are some of our favorites and the ratings we’ve arbitrarily assigned them in no particular order:
Godless ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Hell on Wheels ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Schitt’s Creek ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Ranch ⭐️⭐️
Arrested Development ⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Mandalorian ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Shameless ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Ozark ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Peaky Blinders ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Witcher ⭐️⭐️⭐️
We tried watching The Good Place, but it felt too contrived.
Currently we’re enjoying The Wire. It’s really good, but I’m hesitant to rate it just yet.
What’s in your watch list?
Peace, people!
Studly Doright scared the crap out of me on Sunday morning. I was busy working on edits for The Cowboy and the Executive while my husband was supposed to be playing golf. There I was, my head buried in the task of revising and rewording the first five chapters of the book when he came around the corner of my office and uttered the scariest of words— “Boo!” It’s a miracle I didn’t have a blooming heart attack.
His golf game was rained out after only nine holes of play, so I guess he had nothing better to do than frighten the love of his life. Of course, if the situation were reversed, I’d have done the same to him. We have equally warped senses of humor.
Once my heart rate settled down, I finished my work while Studly got down to the business of enjoying a nap from the comfort of his recliner. His gentle (ha!) snores soon filled the halls of Doright Manor. He’d flipped the television to one of the old movie channels and to my delight the 1947 movie, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir was just beginning.
Now, Rex Harrison knew how to scare a lady properly. Not a single “boo” was uttered. And oh my goodness, was there ever a prettier leading lady than Gene Tierney?
I spent part of the morning and a chunk of the afternoon watching this wonderful old film. Do any of my readers remember the television series based on the movie? It was one of my favorites, but nothing compares to the film. I wonder why someone hasn’t done a modern remake? I’d watch that.
Oh, I’d forgotten that Rex Harrison’s character is a literal ghost writer in the film, and Gene Tierney’s character is his scribe. They bicker over word choice and what to include or omit in the book —just as my editor and I do. The whole scenario was comforting. As I watched, I wondered if Studly could be my muse. Then he snored, not so gently, and I decided that was a big NO.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 