Doing the best I can with what I have
I’d forgotten about this piece! We haven’t been out in our kayak for awhile. Maybe it’s time to try it again. Maybe not.
https://nananoyz5forme.com/2015/02/13/rowers-remorse/
The photos below were taken well after the post was first published. Those adorable girls are two of our five grandkids, McKayla and Harper, near our little lake.
Okay, despite the title of this post I feel compelled to write something.
On Thursday morning Studly Doright and I had the following text exchange:
All he needs is milk and pot pies. All I need is eight hours of sleep. I don’t even like milk or pot pies, but if consuming either meant I could sleep I’d buy large quantities of both.
Having slept very little on Wednesday night, I figured I’d sleep soundly on Thursday night. Wouldn’t that have made sense? I must have dozed off for a few minutes after we went to bed last night. A bit of drool on my pillow was proof of that, as well as the reason I woke up. There’s nothing like the feel of cold, wet slobber on one’s cheek to bring all the senses alive. Ick.
I couldn’t go back to sleep after trying for an hour, so I took my book and went to the sofa in the den thinking that reading for awhile would soon make my eyelids droop, and I’d fall asleep mid-sentence, awakening renewed and refreshed. Nope. Never happened. I finished the entire book and was so wired afterwards one would’ve thought I’d consumed multiple cups of espresso during the night. It’s a good thing I’m retired. This could be a long day.
Here’s a clip from the Mary Tyler Moore Show. I could’ve used Mr. Grant’s help last night.
Peace, (yawn!) People.
The prep work I did for Disney Princess Trivia at The Brass Tap in Tallahassee didn’t help our team much on Tuesday night. I’m not sure where the “Hot Mommas” (yep, that was our team name) ended up, but we were way closer to the bottom of the roster than the top.
We had ten members of our Tallahassee Women’s Social Meetup group show up for the event, including some first timers. There was a good bit of giggling and camaraderie involved, so the gathering was a success even if we didn’t place in the top three. Or the top ten. Maybe not even in the top 18. And there were but 20 teams. Sigh.
Not all of the questions centered on Disney royalty. There were music questions and ones pertaining to general knowledge, as well. We had some knowledgeable folks in our group, but we just never could surge to the top. And I have to admit I was part of the problem.
I turned to the Duckside. I know, I know. It’s hard to believe that I could be a hindrance rather than a help, but twice last night I was so certain of my answers that I convinced the team to vote with me. You’ve probably guessed that both times I was wrong.
Just call me Goofy.
On a side note, I’d never been to The Brass Tap before last night, and I was thoroughly impressed. The food was really good for bar fare, and the wait staff was amazingly efficient and friendly. Next Tuesday the trivia theme is the tv series, “Shameless.” Since I’ve never watched a single episode I think I’ll pass, but The Brass Tap is definitely a venue worth revisiting. I’ll just wish upon a Star before the next event.
Peace, people.
When one of your favorite authors corresponds with you on Twitter. Eeee!!!!
I’m calling this one, “Fan Girl Geek Out.”
Tonight (Tuesday) I’m hosting a Meetup group for a night of Disney Princess Trivia at a Tallahassee bar. Normally I feel fairly confident in my ability to compete in trivia contests, but I’ve kind of skipped out on some of the more recent Disney princess movies.
I’ve tried practicing for the event by taking online quizzes, but I should have watched the movies when I had the chance. The only answers I’ve gotten correct so far deal with Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty. Everything else is pure guesswork.
I have learned a few tidbits from practicing online:
Now my head hurts, and I’m suffering from princess overload. I’m even beginning to see dwarves hiding in every corner. Prince Phillipe, hurry and save me from Ursula before she turns my mother into a bear and cuts my hair with my dad’s sword. I have a bad feeling about this.
Peace, people.
I just earned this mark on my big toe:
When I sat at my table at a local restaurant, my foot slid underneath the raised table leg. I thought I’d severed my big toe, it hurt so bad.
I’m titling this one, “The Klutz in Me Honors the Klutz in You.”
Why is it that some folks are blessed with a natural grace and others, like me, are natural born klutzes? Is klutziness genetic? Or is it environmental? One thing’s for certain, klutziness is hazardous to one’s health.
I’ve fallen down stairs. I’ve fallen up stairs. I’ve slipped on wet bleachers and slid on my bottom from row eight all the way down to row one. I’ve fallen out of a bus and into the snow. In one week I slipped on ice two days in a row bruising my left knee on the first day and the right one on the second. I’ve fallen in various kitchens three or four times over the years. Is it any wonder I dislike cooking?
As a kid I fell out of bed on a regular basis, and I’ve exited a tree ass first on occasion. Once I was knocked into the middle of a Tilt-a-Whirl carnival ride when the car I was exiting swung around and sent me sprawling. I hit my head on one of the support bars hard enough to see stars circling alá Sylvester the cat.
I’d like to think I’m resilient, that I take a licking and keep on ticking. The truth is, I’m so astonished that so far none of my escapades have led to injury or even death that I can only assume I’ve been living a charmed, yet clumsy life. It’s a good thing I’m not a cat. If I were I’d be all out of lives.
Peace, people.
Here’s another of my favorite klutzy scenes. I give you Ross and the leather pants from Friends.
Odd, this staid woman
Who relished wild abandon
In nature only
Her ordered life calm,
While her garden ran amok
No rows, tangled vines
From pleasure abstained
Nary a drop of spirits
Her drunken plot raved
As I was shaving my legs this morning I managed to nick the tender area of my inner ankle bone on not just one leg, but both. Not gonna lie, I cursed. One of the cuts bled on the rug as I limped over to the cabinet for a bandage. I cursed again.
As I straightened up from cleaning the spot of blood on the rug, I conked my head on the cabinet door that I’d carelessly left open after getting the bandage. Now I have a bump on my noggin. I was laughing too hard to curse this time. Given the law of averages I’d have to say I’m safe for the remainder of the day, perhaps even the rest of the week, but I’m not taking any chances. If you need me, I’ll be in bed.
Here’s one of the funniest klutzy scenes of all time. Enjoy!
I’m not going to write much today. It seems that I worked myself up over something I manufactured in my head. I didn’t sleep at all last night wondering what I’d done wrong, who I’d ticked off, and how I should make amends, only to discover that I’d misread the communications that precipitated my presumptions. I jumped to some wrong conclusions and landed ungracefully on my face.
Sometimes I forget that I’m not the center of the universe, you see. I’m not responsible for all of the good in the world, nor am I the cause of all that is foul. I’m just an almost 62 year old woman who is blundering along in this life. Usually I can avoid unnecessary drama, but occasionally I’m a veritable factory of the same.
The sad thing is, jumping to conclusions doesn’t burn any calories. If it did I’d be able to fit into my size 7 wedding dress with room to spare. Here’s to trying to do better.
Peace, people.
