Sleepy Time Green Tea

Sleepytime Green TeaWednesday, October 1, 2014

Today I am grateful for Sleep Time decaf green tea. I’ve been plagued lately with the tail end of a cold that left me with a deep, hacking, lose-a-lung cough that has been making it impossible to get enough sleep.   I think the other night I might have slept a whole twenty minutes at a time before been hacked awake.

 

Before you feel compelled to remind me to use a vaporizer, slather Vicks, prop my head up, use the Neti pot, drug myself into a stupor, blah, blah, blah, be assured I did all of that.  Still, when the spasms began there was no stopping them.  I wandered the house during the night like a lemur on the prowl.  I can function reasonably well through almost any surgery or illness. . .as long as I’m sleeping at night.  When I don’t sleep, it ain’t purdy!  Ask my husband.

 

Last night I was too exhausted to put words together. I read something on Facebook about honey and cinnamon combating illness, and on TV there was an ad for Sleepy Time tea.  I had already tried the honey concoction and I had tea in the cabinet.  Voila!  A cure?

 

I brewed the Sleepy Time decaf green tea, dumped in the honey/cinnamon and sipped away. About twenty minutes later I went to bed and slept better than I have in a week and boy is my husband grateful!  Me, too!

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New Shades

phone pix-Hello Mary glassesTuesday, September 30, 2014

Today I am grateful for new shades. My fantabulous, bejeweled, Fearless Fly sunglasses broke for what is probably the last time.

 

My husband, Mr. Glue, fixed them over and over, but now to hold them on I have to balance my head like a ballerina and that isn’t possible so I am declaring them. Time of death?  Too soon.  I could do a eulogy about the fun those sunglasses had with so many people.  It was as if they had a personality of their own.  They almost had a web page.  Everyone wanted a picture with them on, even my mom.  But they’re dead now.  RIP old friend.

 

Time to move on. After an extensive search across many state lines I was still not able to find a duplicate.  One pair came a little close, but only in the same way you can be a little pregnant.  So I changed it up and got purple, with a bow, and whiskers.  They have almost as much fun as the bejeweled ones had.  Little children stop me and say, “I like you’re Hello Kitty glasses!”  I correct them.  “They are not Hello Kitty, they are Hello Mary glasses!”  They love it and I am grateful for the new shades.

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Finished Products

mexican painting bestMonday, September 29, 2014

Today I am grateful for finished products. I finished the painting of Mexico and found a frame just in time to give it to my son and his fiancé at their engagement party last Saturday night.

 

While painting it I kept thinking of the symbolism of door. The esoteric poet inside me thought it was a cool painting for them because they are opening a new door into their future.  Weird, I know.  I always wonder if any part of me has rubbed off on my kids.  Then my son and his fiancé opened the gift, he took one look at the painting and said, “A door?  What is that the door to our future?”  Bing!  Heartprint!

 

They examined it, seemed to love it, then my son said, “Hey, did you change your signature?” I forgot the M for Mary.  Geeze!  “Should I be worried about you?  It’s your name, right?  Your signature, right?”  And I thought he wasn’t paying attention. It was a test.  That’s my story. Don’t put me in a home. . .yet!

 

I’m grateful for the finished product and will throw that other “M” on my signature later, then I’ll declare it done again!

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Old and New Friends

Bucket of new friendsSeptember 28, 2014

Today I am grateful for old. . .and new friends. There was a wonderful engagement party for one of our sons and his fiancé at her parent’s house last night.  They graciously asked us to invite some of our friends who are like family and they also invited their friends who are like family.

 

It is always wonderful to meet new people and find how many things we have in common. I’m reminded of the old girl scout song, “Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold.

 

So I am grateful for buckets of old. . .and new friends. Silver and gold.

 

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Glass House

glass-house-landscapeSaturday, September 27, 2014

Today I am grateful I don’t live in a glass house.   This week I had a little too much time on my hands and a remote control with a new battery.  Not a good combination.  I stumbled upon a show on HGTV called, Extreme Homes.  Wow.

 

There were yerts and trulee’s (look them up) and bunkers and caves and treehouses and whatnot, where people “feel so at home” and live. I saw a small apartment made to look like a palace with added pillars and gold gilding and ugly ornate, plaster flowers everywhere.  Cool for her.  Not for me.  There was a mountain house that looked like a ship and a house in the trees made out of part of an old 747.  Some of these architects could take my trash and make a house out of it.  Pizza boxes for shelves, soup cans for windows and popcorn hulls for texture.  See how trendy I am?

 

One had no steps, but ramps everywhere with no railings. Talk about a liability waiting to happen.  I could make a fortune off of my own homeowner’s insurance.  I got vertigo just watching the program on TV. . .from a solid chair. . .not a rocker.  It looked like it was made out of angry stiletto’s with a macabre, sadistic attitude.  Or maybe that was just the architect.

 

I’m odd, yet most of these places are too odd for even me. I’d love to visit them but no way would I want to live in them.  Especially the glass house.   I love nature.  I love my house.  I love windows.  I love walls.  I’m fond of doors on the bathroom.  I have no desire to commune with a squirrel, bears and deer while I’m sitting on the pot.  Remember, I’m all done camping unless it’s in a Holiday Inn.  Glass house folks are whacky.  There, I said it.  Send me a rebuttal letter.  All I see are poor birds smashing themselves trying to fly through the house.  Ick.

 

The owners of glass houses go ooohh and ahhhh over how much sun comes in their homes all day long. I had a power surge and needed to be dipped in ice water.  They marvel how great it is to live minimalist, which I guess means you don’t have any crap at all except one tall vase of perfect gladiolus, which is the only color in the whole place, except for the “nature” that oozes in from all sides from three story windows.  No paintings.  No color.  No thank you.

 

If I lived in a glass house how could I put my shirt in the washer, get distracted and eventually walk to the bedroom for another shirt? Where would I put all of the junk from my basement if I tried to live minimalist?  Where are their books?  Their box of tissues?  Their remote control?  Their nail clipper, dental floss, pens for the easy puzzle and pencils for the hard ones?  Don’t they have a phone or a pillow for their aching back?  I don’t trust a house without a dish rag!

 

I love big windows until I have to wash them. I don’t like closed curtains either but when the new stop light blinks across the bed, like a lighthouse. . .every 20 seconds. . .(yes, I counted one night, all night). . . enough!  No minimalist for me and no glass house, either and I am grateful.  I’ll take my modest amount of clutter, my soft, brown woods and the textures of my travels surrounding me any day!

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Book Club

Book ClubFriday, September 26, 2014

Today I am grateful for my book club. I have always been a reader but reading books for my book club has taken it to a different level.  I am reading things I never would without them.

 

The Four Seasons Book Club was started a billion years ago in a neighborhood that I never lived in. I was included because a friend invited me and so was another member who is also not in the neighborhood. Four seasons?  Because we literally meet four times a year.  At the onset we all worked long hours so a monthly book club was just too much.  This seemed doable, yet sometimes, though several are retired now, we still struggle for dates when all can make it.  The list of books we’ve read is astronomical. So are our opinions on the books.  And everything else.

 

I remember a particular “fight” over The Great Gatsby with one awesome book club member who is no longer part of the group. . . but not for that reason. Life changes took her in another direction and I miss her every day.  I hated Gatsby.  She loved it.  The heated, yet respectful discussion was awesome.  Nothing like a good “discussion”.

 

We have one who is often still reading the book in the car seconds before book club starts; one (me) who reads the book as soon as we pick a title and then doesn’t remember anything about it by the time we discuss; one who reads it on the kindle; one who reads it but doesn’t always finish before book club; one who doesn’t say much; one who says a lot. And by now, if they are reading this, they are trying to figure out which one they are.  All of them. . .at any given moment.

 

We’ve been a good support system through marriage, job changes, loss of jobs, divorce, care of elderly parents, death of parents, growing children, colleges, marriages, grandbabies, you name it. We’ve been there discussing it all.  Oh, yeah, and books, too, and I am grateful.

 

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Homemade Veggie Soup

Veggie SoupThursday, September 25, 2014

Today I am grateful for homemade veggie soup. When I woke up this morning I wanted veggies, but I didn’t know which ones.  I also wanted soup, but I didn’t feel like eating the one I made the other day for book club.

 

Sometimes indecision produces the perfect result. I threw every kind of veggie I have in a pot and made veggie soup.  Don’t ask for the recipe because there isn’t one.  It’s dump soup and I will be grateful when it’s done.  I hope it heals me.

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