They have arrived, took sister Mary, and left!

Here are the culprits! This is Dorothy and Mike Flory. They live in Shawnee, Kansas. They both work and have strange hobbies. They have cows for pets and a farm for a hobby. It is calving time on the farm and with this weather, they keep pretty busy overseeing the birthing process as well as having full time jobs! Then to take time out to run out here and pick up Mary, my hat is off to them!

They arrived Saturday night, ate supper, slept, ate breakfast, loaded Sister Mary in the car and away they went! Now I am alone. Well, not really alone since I do have Bret, Daisy, Elvira, 10 geese, and 23 ducks, but I have nonetheless, lost my buddy.

And here is Sister Mary, all ready to go. She even has her purse hooked on her arm. Maybe they are going to stop and do some shopping! I do not like to shop, so we did not do that while she was here, except when we did it for survival.

Having Mary here was a definite treat, and a diversion to say the very least. You have to look back on our childhood to realize what a learning experience this really was. Mary was always the "pretty one". Dorothy was the baby, Donna was there, Jake was the boy, and Josephine was the oldest. I came in between Donna and Jake, so that made me the "middle child" and you know what the middle child was good for--nothing.

Middle Child Syndrome is what it is called. I am not a leader and not a follower, just kind of there. Or at least that is how it should have worked. But in our family, Josephine married and left very early, Jake attached himself to a farmer and then forged a new birth certificate and joined the Army when he was barely 16 and was never there. So, I then became the leader. Then I left.

But back to the relevant part. Mary and I were never very close. She was closer to Donna. Then she married Tommy when she was 13(?) and he was 15(?). Think that is right. They remained together and lived happily ever after until he passed at the early age of 52. So when the opportunity arose for her to come spend time with me we jumped on that. You really get to know someone when you set and talk for hours. We have a lot in common. We both lost our mother, both lost our husbands, both have grandkids, went to the same grade school. And on and on. Lot more than I thought. Might have to do this again someday!

But for now, I will savor the weeks we spent together, knowing she is safe at home with her family checking up on her. Guess I will plan a trip to Wichita, Kansas as soon as the snow melts!!

Button up your coat!

I heard some one say "Button up your coat!" That started me thinking about the way we talk and I realize a lot of it hearkens back to the olden times. Like "Button up your coat." If you think about it, that is the correct way to button because you can start at the bottom with the buttons matching and it will button straight. If you start at the top, you really can not see to match them and when you get to the bottom, sometimes one side hangs down below the other.

"Put that book down!" would seem to mean that it should go on the floor as that is the location of "down." We need to be more specific with the kiddies. "Place the book on the table." Now you may wonder, what got me off on this tangent. It was the trash.

I told Bret, "That trash needs to go out." Seems like a harmless statement on the surface, but I could see his wheels turn. So I amended the statement, "That trash needs to go out and you need to be the one to take it out (then I added) to the barrel that is located by the carport and you need to open the lid and place it inside and replace the lid then you need to walk away leaving it behind." I think he did it on his way to work.

He used to be so cute! What happened? Where did I go wrong? I never whacked him in the head I don't care what you think! The last I remember he was a tiny boy coming to the door with both his hands clutching something and saying "Let me in! I have too many hands!" Now he just gives the door a kick and comes on in. Well, at least he has learned to fend for himself!

Well, that is it for the day. Got to go do the Java Automatic Update so it will quit flashing at me. Enjoy your day, and think carefully about all you sentences. You could start a world war!!

It is my nap time and your point exactly?

Yesterday I missed my nap! I was very busy since I had to take my 90+ friend to the doctor. She does not drive any more. Well, personally I am rather glad about that. Hope I can give up my license long before that. Actually, I could throw that sucker in the pile right now and we would probably all be better off, but maybe not.

Back to the crux of this blog today. When the clock starts pointing to 1:30 or 2:00 o'clock, my little mind starts looking for a place to lay the body down for just a few minutes. Just a short nap, you know. Nothing that drags on, that is called bedtime and that lasts for 8 hours. I figure it this way:

I am pushing 70 and I am not going to miss out on much if I have a short nappy poo. I just lay there on the bed with the telephone right beside me, because we all know if I don't it will ring, but if I do it won't. That is called Karma! I work hard when I am awake, so after this many years, if I selfishly want to take 30 or 40 minutes for myself in the middle of the day, I think I have earned that right.

Now I know realistically I am wasting time. I have been doing the nap thing for probably 6 years. At 30 minutes a day for 6 years that comes to 65,700 minutes which becomes 1,095 hours which becomes 45.625 days, which becomes 6.52 weeks. You know, now that I figure this out logically, I am wasting a lot ot time laying on my duff!

I could get a lot done in 1,095 hours. And sometimes the nap is a little longer. OMG! Talk about wasting time! I could get a lot of weaving done. I could cover this house in blankets. Ok, here is what I will do; I am going to start taking a nap every other day. I will nap on Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday. That will free me up to hit the garage sales on Friday and Saturday!

You know, I am kind of glad we had this little talk! Wait, we did not have a talk. I am talking to myself! That is what a blog is, I think. They call it journaling, but it is basically talking to myself! So if I give up the napping, I will have more time to talk to myself. I sure feel better about life now!

Sign my widget over there so you can be a follower. I might actually say something some day and you wouldn't want to miss it, would you? I want to have at least 11 followers by the time I croak! And remember, There is a big difference between a follower and a stalker!