Studly Doright and I hope that 2022 will be a year of peace and love for you and yours. Thank you for enriching our lives with your insights, your humor, your wisdom, and your unique perspectives on life.
With love from David (Studly) and Leslie (Nana) Noyes!
Facebook often recommends products and fashions that might be things I’d like to have. I’m beginning to think they don’t know me very well.
I was away from Doright Manor for two weeks. During my absence Studly Doright took excellent care of the cat, did some laundry in interesting ways (Wash one’s nice shirts with the towels? Sure, why not?), and kept the house in surprisingly good condition.
But he didn’t do any weeding, so on Monday I took it upon myself to tackle some of the more offending weeds in the front yard. I’d just finished one section and turned my attention to an area on the side of the house when a vigorous rustling among fallen branches brought me to a complete stop. Snake? Lizard? I held perfectly still until this guy erupted from the detritus and scooted up the bricks.
My brain said “skink” and I mentally patted myself on the back. Not too long ago I’d have just called him a lizard, and while that’s perfectly correct, skink is more descriptive. He’s a five-lined skink to be even more specific.
Skink and I parted ways with neither being harmed by our encounter. I pictured him hurrying home to Google, or whichever search engine lizards use, to look for “humans“ and patting himself on the tail for immediately thinking “female.” We’re all on a learning journey, after all.
My beautiful friend, Connie, posted this piece this morning. I hope you’ll send her some love today. Peace, people
Friends, I debated long and hard about sharing this information on my blog, but my thoughts are all tangled up right now and maybe this will help me sort them out.
As many of you know, our grandson had an appendectomy last Monday. He wasn’t improving as expected and they took him back into surgery on Thursday to have a look around. They drained some fluid and inserted a drainage tube. Afterwards he felt better and we thought, “yay!”
Then this morning my daughter received a call from the surgeon. They’d found something called a neuroendocrine tumor in Garrett’s appendix. And it was cancerous. That damned word.
So, right now they’re letting Garrett’s post-op swelling subside. They’ll do some diagnostic tests to see what other organs might be affected, but it’s a given that they’ll remove his gallbladder in a procedure yet to be scheduled.
Prayers are welcomed. Good vibes appreciated. Our Garrett is a super smart, exceptionally kind young man bound for great things. We’re going to tackle this damned word and beat it.
I received a message on Facebook today from a guy who seemed interested in buying my book. I directed him to Amazon, then he came back with this:
Can anyone explain why someone would think this is all right? Then he had the nerve to say, “I hope I didn’t offend you.” Weird.
My beautiful and talented friend, Shehanne Moore, made one of my dreams come true when she allowed me to interact with the hamstah dudes. What an honor! —Leslie
Here’s the blurb from the back cover: “How well can a wife ever know her husband? Paula Arnett would swear she knows everything about hers, that is, …When Leslie Met the Dudes
A friend on Facebook posted this ad on her page today. I laughed for a good five minutes and then promptly stole it so my friends on WordPress could have a good laugh, too.