Too Pooped to Post

Folks, my trip to Houston and back over the weekend has worn me out. I’m taking the day off. Maybe two days, but before I go I’ll leave you with this cute kitten picture:

And how about this adorable puppy in a teacup?

Or this turkey couple?

Which reminds me of a picture my youngest grandchild created in her kindergarten class:

Can you guess what this is?

It’s a turkey in disguise. I’d say this bird should escape the axe this Thanksgiving. Now, y’all have a great day. I’m taking a nap.

Peace, people!

Just Say Ok

Just Say Ok!

While Studly Doright and I were relaxing on Amelia Island this past weekend I had the following text conversation with our daughter:

“Ok.” and “Yep.” were my contributions, and my reward was seeing my daughter’s reaction. So now I’m planning a quick trip to Chicago on the 27th of October.

I’m beyond excited about seeing Les Misérables at the Cadillac Theater, but that’s just icing on the cake. The real treat will be getting to see Les Mis with my daughter on her birthday and our middle grandchild. I’m so glad I typed “Ok.”

Peace, people!

Kindergarten Connection

I was fortunate to have attended kindergarten in the days before it was made mandatory. I’m sure Mrs. Parks, the owner and sole teacher of the school followed a curriculum, but I don’t remember it being a rigorous course of instruction.

My fellow classmates and I played and sang and created small works of art, while learning about the letters of the alphabet and how to count. A few children in the class learned to read that year. I wasn’t one of those children, but I used to tell people that I was. Nothing was forced as kindergarten learning seems to be nowadays.

At the end of that precious year Mrs. Parks directed us in a play to mark our graduation. One of my Floydada friends posted the picture of our class on Facebook this weekend. Weren’t we adorable?

That’s me on the back row. I’m the tall brown haired girl in the pink dress next to the headdress wearing brave and behind the tiny little doll in yellow.

I can still name all but two of my former classmates from the picture. Floydada is a small Texas town and I went to school with most of those pictured until my family moved to Dumas the summer before my senior year of high school. That was a tough move. I thought my world had ended, when it really was just beginning.

There’s really no message in this post, but our youngest granddaughter started kindergarten this year at a small school in Illinois, and I hope her memories of her year will someday be as sweet to her as mine are to me.

This is Harper on Ag day, which she preferred calling “Egg Day.” She’s a great deal sassier than I ever was. Heaven help us all.

Peace, people.

Suggestions?

If you were a smart, beautiful girl, who isn’t into girly-girl stuff, what would you want to receive as a gift for your 14th birthday?

This isn’t a rhetorical question. Our eldest grandchild will celebrate her 14th birthday on September 13. Today is September 7. Surely someone out there has a suggestion. I’m getting desperate.

Here she is with her dog, Toby. 

TMI?

I have a gift when it comes to giving out too much information, a.k.a. TMI. My brain is hollering, “For the love of God, STOP!” while my mouth keeps spouting all the details of my life that are better left untouched, unknown, and uncovered.

 

In the good and/or bad old days if one gave out TMI it often wasn’t a big deal, unless one happened to be in front of a television audience. The TMI didn’t travel far or for any distance. However, today’s social media makes sharing TMI much too easy and in some ways dangerous. 

Take yesterday, for example. My 10-year-old grandaughter started a pet care service. She created a professional looking sign, made copies, and posted them all around her small town Illinois neighborhood. I immediately copied the photo and posted it on my Facebook page. Thank goodness my youngest brother pointed out that it might not be wise to post the phone number of a preteen girl on Facebook, and I promptly deleted it.

Usually, though, my tendency is to provide entirely too much information about myself. Case in point, I typed this post on my iPhone. In the john. Would someone fetch me some t.p.? TMI?

  
Peace, people!

Spending Time with a Ten Year Old Girl

My middle grandchild, McKayla, and I drove all over the Quad Cities yesterday. We picked up her new glasses in Moline, Illinois, ate lunch and painted pottery in Bettendorf, Iowa, shopped for vintage (her word) stuff in Port Byron and Rapids City, Illinois, and enjoyed ice cream in Davenport, Iowa, I think. Thank goodness for GPS!

I was so confused by the time we returned home that I needed a nap. She on the other hand was energized with the prospect of decorating the interior of the vintage dollhouse we found at Birdie Lu’s in Rapids City.

Shopping with McKayla is an adventure. At ten, she knows exactly what she wants and already has a style of her own. Everywhere we went she received compliments on her hair or her dress or her jacket. I’m 58. I’m still trying to develop a signature style beyond jeans, a t-shirt, and flip flops. And compliments are few and far between.

At the same time, she still enjoys her Barbies and doll houses and pretend play. At least we have those things in common. We also share similar tastes in music; although, she actually knows all the words to the songs playing on the radio; whereas, I am reduced to humming and mumbling the lyrics.

I don’t embarrass her yet, even though I count that as an important part of Grandparenting. No matter how hard I tried I didn’t even rate an eye roll. Maybe I’ve lost the skill.

At the end of our expedition McKayla gave me a huge hug and thanked me for giving her an amazing day. It was pretty amazing to me, as well. It isn’t often that someone as clueless as I am has the chance to hang out with pure awesomeness.