Awareness Issues: Who’s Clueless Now?

I’m not known for my mindfulness. Frequently I walk into doors, trip over lines in the floor, and manage to poke myself in the eye while applying makeup. I once nearly caught the house on fire by accidentally dropping a load of clean laundry on top of a burning candle. If not for the unique scent of burning elastic, I’d likely be living somewhere other than Doright Manor. And those were my favorite panties. 😢

Studly Doright, on the other hand, prides himself on his observational abilities. And I have to admit that he notices stuff other males often don’t—new haircuts, new eyeglass frames, anything new I happen to have purchased hoping he wouldn’t notice. That old line “This old dress? I’ve had it for ages!” never works on him.

Very rarely will he be out of the loop when something changes in his domain. But when he slips, I’m there to take note.

Just a couple of days ago I heard him say, “Hey, you finally hung the grandkids’ senior pictures!”

“Yes, honey, they’ve been up in the same location for two months now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. A couple of feet from the door you walk through multiple times every single day. Now who has awareness issues?”

Then he reminded me of that time when I didn’t realize he’d shaved off his beard until he’d been clean shaven for a month. In my defense, it never was much of a beard.

And the time I got into the driver’s seat of a complete stranger’s car and wondered why my key wouldn’t fit into the ignition.

And also the time I had a conversation with my own reflection in a mirror. I was a bit drunk, but still…

I guess I remain the clueless one. How could he not notice these stunning young people though? Boggles the mind. Has anyone seen my phone? Oh, right, I’m using it to blog.

Garrett and Dominique

Peace, people?

Fasten Your Seatbelts

Studly Doright and I decided to get away for a couple of days. Our anniversary is on the 30th, so it seemed a good way to celebrate 45 years of marriage. I was going to say “wedded bliss” but that count is only around 20 years. I jest. Mostly.

We left Doright Manor under sunny skies, but about an hour from our destination we ran into a torrential rainstorm complete with lightning and thunder. Visibility was down to about fifteen feet and I had a firm hold on what we lovingly call the “oh shit” handle.

Not even the worst part of the storm…

We’re headed to Jacksonville where we have reservations at the Margaritaville Resort on Jacksonville Beach. Hoping the storm isn’t a harbinger of what’s to come. Of course Studly is sick of hearing me sing “Stormy Weather,” so he might just pull over and kick me out. If you see me hitchhiking on Interstate 10 west of Jacksonville, throw me a towel, please.

Peace, people!

Travel Day

I’m on the road today, traveling to be with friends whose son died unexpectedly this week. I left Doright Manor yesterday and should arrive at my destination in Oklahoma early this afternoon.

There was no time for stopping except for necessary stuff (gas, potty breaks, food) yesterday, but at one of those necessary stops I was delayed leaving by a mother hen and her chicks.

One little chick was under my car, while others were scurrying across the parking lot, but mama gathered all of her babies together and headed for safety. Because that’s what mamas do.

Peace, people.

Half a Cat: A Furry Tail

Gracie is upset that I won’t allow her to go outside on the screened-in porch this afternoon. It’s an 80° day and the sun is shining, but there’s a breeze blowing the pollen around, and my allergies just can handle it.

So Gracie is making do with the next best thing.

That tail starts flicking about now and again leading me to believe there might be a lizard teasing the cat from outside the window. This cat leads a really tough life.

Peace, people!

Love Your Pet Day

Apparently February 19 is the official Love Your Pet Day. Who knew? Here at Doright Manor, every day is Love Your Pet Day. Our Gracie can attest to that.

I’M not tired of playing. YOU’RE tired of playing.
That “come hither” look.
Our own children didn’t have as many toys as Gracie does.
Helping Studly Doright is her favorite activity.

She’s been such a balm to our hearts after the death of our beloved Scout kitty. I was so afraid we’d adopted her too soon after losing Scout, but Gracie had filled a hole in our lives, and we love her so much.

Peace, and love your pets, people.

Haute Couture for the Down and Out

I’m at that stage in life where comfort overrides style every single time. Having said that, I do have a pair of shoes that make a statement, and I wear them almost daily.

The green tile beneath these classy shoes is slippery as ice when wet, and cool even during summer months. So I wanted something with a little grip and lots of warmth to wear around Doright Manor. Of course I bought them from Walmart. They only cost $4.99, and after a couple of wearings the right foot had a blowout. And I love it!

Is it a pimple popping out? A tongue? I’m not certain, but I’m positive you won’t find another pair exactly like them. And that’s how haute couture works.

Peace, people!

The View from My Window

February 12, 2021.

This is my backyard here at Doright Manor. Today the temps were in the mid-70’s, and while rain is in the forecast through next Tuesday, we’re enjoying the gift of pleasant weather today. I know we’re very lucky right now.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re warm and dry. Maybe you’ll have a cup of hot chocolate, or a bowl of stew. At bedtime you might enjoy a hot toddy. Heck, now I’m almost in the mood for winter weather. Almost.

Peace, people!

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

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.

Saturday Morning Thoughts

At 7:00 a.m. it’s still dark here at Doright Manor. There’s no reason for me to be awake. It’s not as if we have cows to milk or chickens to feed, and the cat’s sleeping off her breakfast and snoring beside me. Studly Doright left an hour ago so he could have breakfast at his favorite dive before his early tee time. I could do anything or nothing today, and I’m trying to decide which way to go.

Should I work on editing my romance novel, The Cowboy and the Executive? Maybe instead I should write a bit in the sequel to Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort. What if I ignored the computer today and checked out an estate sale on the posher side of Tallahassee? I could do laundry…No. Or housework…Hell No! Maybe I could stay in bed all day…Nope. The only times I’ve ever done that is when I’ve been sick, and thankfully I’m healthy. Decisions, decisions.

Oh, who am I kidding? We all know the estate sale is going to win. I’ll be careful—masked up and socially distanced—and home in time for a little romance with Studly. For research purposes, don’t you know. After all, I need to do something productive today.

Peace, people.

Things That Go “Hiss” in the Night

A hiss awakened me from a deep sleep a couple of nights ago, and my first thought was, SNAKE! Apparently our cat, Gracie, had the same thought. Together, we crept through the bedroom and adjacent bathroom, tentatively looking under furniture and around corners. After finding nothing even vaguely snake-like, we returned to bed.

Later that morning as I applied my makeup I heard the hiss again. Gracie, who never leaves my side, went into full attack mode. She was going to locate this hissing thing and kill it with her bare claws. But after a lengthy search, we again came up empty handed. This was one stealthy hisser.

Then about midday, while engaged in the fine art of sorting laundry I heard the hiss and this time, it emanated from near by—from the small area where our toilet is located. The water closet, if you will. And, it was accompanied by the smell of lavender.

It was then that I recalled having recently purchased an automatic room deodorizer. That, friends, was the cause of our mysterious hissing sounds. I’m so relieved, but Gracie isn’t convinced that we’re out of the woods just yet.

Always on the job.

I’m glad she’s hyper-vigilant. There might come a day when an actual snake finds its way into Doright Manor, and Gracie will be ready.

Peace, people!