Tag: blogging

Deep Thinking about Free Stuff

Today I pondered the good things in life that are free:

A kiss, a hug, honest conversation

A walk in the park, a turn on the swings

Saturdays doing nothing

A nap, a snuggle, a genuine smile

A song, a prayer, dancing in the dark

Warm sunshine on my face

A gentle touch, a kind word, a giggle

Shared tears, shared meals

The scent of fresh cut flowers

The songs of birds as they discuss the day

Now, all this pondering was prompted by a trip to a local office supply store. Did you know that it doesn’t cost a thing to use the hole punch at Staples? Winning!

Peace, people

Haircut Today!

It’s about time. My style is somewhere between

and

Hoping for something more along the lines of

While I’m at it, a new face would be nice, as well. Hers (above) would do nicely. After all, she’s already got the haircut I want.

Waiting on a miracle here, folks.

Peace, people.

Know-it-All

Confession time: I have know-it-all tendencies. I know that’s going to shock so many of my friends. Heh.

Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of a recitation of my knowledge (on damned near any subject barring nuclear physics or microbiology or microeconomics or anything actually demanding years of study and education), and I’m momentarily self-chastened. That is, until the next time I feel the need to hold forth on one of my areas of expertise.

Other times I don’t realize I’ve been a complete and utter boor until around midnight when I awaken from a deep sleep to replay every asinine comment I’d made during the day. It matters not that I was correct in my assertions (well, at least I believed I was correct), but that I’d managed to hijack a conversation and made it about me.

I didn’t make any resolutions at the beginning of this new year, but if it isn’t too late I’m going to do so right now. Any time I open my mouth to insert my unsolicited opinion I’m going to take a deep breath and smile instead. If I forget to exhale, someone might want to check my pulse.

Peace, people.

Exciting Life

Studly Doright and I are spending our Sunday afternoon watching the National Collegiate Cornhole Championship on ESPN. We laughed when we first came upon the broadcast, but an hour later, Studly’s glued to the set. We are certainly easily entertained.

Need a cornhole tutorial? Here’s a tongue-in-cheek video explaining the rules. I tried it once, but a lack of eye hand coordination and a dearth of beanbag throwing skills left me well short of the hole.

https://youtu.be/Sip1Hgyz0K0

Finding Love at the Piggly Wiggly (reblog)

Who’d have thought a lifelong adventure in love and laughter could have begun at a Piggly Wiggly store? I guess Studly Doright and I had a pig as a matchmaker.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2014/07/30/finding-love-at-the-piggly-wiggly/

I first posted this piece in 2014 and had forgotten about it until a long time friend tagged me on a facebook post that mentioned Piggly Wiggly. I commented on the Facebook post and the author “friended” me. It looks like the pig is still bringing folks together.

Idiocy, Bravery, or Neither

I’m suffering from a case of performance anxiety. A few days ago I did something that was either extremely stupid or rather courageous. There’s a fine line between the two extremes where I’m concerned, and I’m sure I won’t know which end of the spectrum my action was on until I can gauge the outcome. Let’s see what precipitated my angst, shall we?

There was this notice on Facebook:

I read it once. Then a second time. “Huh!” I thought cavalierly. “I can do this.”

So without even an ounce of hesitation I sent an email with a link to one of my blog posts. Then I promptly forgot all about it. Until today when I got this email:

Hi Leslie!

Thank you for your interest in reading at our January Literary Salon! We are happy to host an inclusive and open space for writers and artists at all levels of engagement and topic. I would be happy to add you to our reading list for the 17th. It’s encouraged to read for around ten to fifteen minutes, but you’re welcome to adjust that time to better suit your style, content, or comfort.

There was more to the email, but you get the drift. I’ve gotten the okay to share something I’ve written with a group of strangers. Kind of like I do here every day, except they’re going to expect me to read it aloud. Holy cow. Let the performance anxiety kick in.

I know what I’ll read. It’s one of my favorite pieces, but it’ll need to be reworked for a live audience. I’d welcome editing suggestions. Please read the link and then give this girl some ideas!

Loose Ends

I enjoyed (🤪) another of my sleepless nights last night, so my brain is devoid of any meaningful content. Who am I? Where am I? Both questions for another day when I’m better rested. Fortunately I have some loose ends that I’ll try to tie together for a blog post.

The first loose end is fittingly about threads. Namely, what’s up with the construction of this garment?

The top photo shows it with the facing tucked in as it should be when worn. Guess who wore it with the abnormally long facing hanging down over my collar not once, but twice? If you guessed me, and who didn’t, you’re absolutely right.

Until a pajama clad woman in Walmart called it to my attention I had no idea this flap was just hanging around back there. And that was the second time I wore it that way. Go figure.

What kind of sadistic ass makes a garment in this manner? What is this excess fabric’s purpose? It’s difficult to position the facing correctly even when I remember to do so. Was it meant as a means of humiliation? A test of flexibility? I may never know. On the other hand, the garment is soft as butter, so I’ll continue to wear the blouse. Would it be permissible for me to cut out the excess?

The next loose end is a cartoon I came across on Facebook. I added the comment, “And this is why we live in a single story home.”

My daughter thought that was way too much information. She’ll be more sympathetic when she’s 62. At least I hope she has reason to be.

The third, and perhaps final, loose end is going to be controversial: I saw the new Mary Poppins and was a bit underwhelmed.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I thought the acting was very good. Emily Blunt was fantastic as Mary Poppins. Lin-Manuel Miranda was handsome and lovable as a London lamplighter, and all of the other actors were spot on.

So, what’s my problem? I found the music lacking a certain spiffiness. There’s nothing in the new film to match the wittiness of “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” or the sweet sorrow of “Feed the Birds.” There’s no equivalent to the bouncy “Spoonful of Sugar” or to the hilarious “I Love to Laugh.”

I could tell they were trying to bring about the same vibe, but I think that might’ve been part of my dissatisfaction. Maybe if I’d never seen the original (9,999 times) I’d be more enthralled by the music in the sequel. It’s still a wonderful movie, and maybe I’ll change my mind. Peer pressure might work in this case. Put your arguments forward.

Thanks for sticking around to the end.

Peace, people.

Maps and Such

I am where I’ve been

Crisscrossed lines on an atlas

Wrinkled boundaries

I am what I’ve seen

Pale postcards pinned to cork boards

Vibrant colors lost

I am what I’ve heard

Boarding calls to distant lands

Dim echoes through time

(All images from Pinterest)

The Last Bear Standing

Monday morning I posted on Facebook that I’d successfully packed away all of my Christmas decorations, joking that even though I’m pretty thorough I’m liable to find one small piece of Yuletide decor hiding in plain sight come February or March, maybe even August.

Well, I’ve already discovered one item that somehow escaped my notice. Yes, it was hiding in plain sight, but it isn’t a exactly small:

My 3 ft. tall Christmas bear was just hanging around in his customary seasonal spot beside the front door. Never mind that I pass by this spot dozens of times each day, I didn’t notice him until a UPS delivery guy knocked in the door yesterday afternoon.

He’s so cute, I almost feel bad for putting him back in his closet with the winter coats and old board games. I’ve never named this bear. How about Yule Brenner?

Now I can say for certain that everything Christmas related has been put away. Well, maybe.

Peace, people.

The Last Bear Standing

Monday morning I posted on Facebook that I’d successfully packed away all of my Christmas decorations, joking that even though I’m pretty thorough, I’m liable to find one small piece of Yuletide decor hiding in plain sight come February or March, maybe even August.

Well, I’ve already discovered one item that somehow escaped my notice. Yes, it was hiding in plain sight, but it isn’t a exactly small:

My 3 ft. tall Christmas bear was just hanging around in his customary seasonal spot beside the front door. Never mind that I pass by this spot dozens of times each day, I didn’t notice him until a UPS delivery guy knocked on the door yesterday afternoon.

He’s so cute, I almost feel bad for putting him back in his closet with the winter coats and old board games. I’ve never named this bear. How about Yule Brenner?

Now I can say for certain that everything Christmas related has been put away. Well, maybe.

Peace, people.