Friday, June 08, 2018
Today I am grateful the day is almost behind me. Sheesh! Some days I wonder if my entire being is in retrograde like the planets. Don’t worry, it was nothing serious, but if you add up the drops and spills and foo-pah’s (I know it’s not spelled correctly) it can grate on even a positive persons nerves. Like me.
Before I go any further in this missive, I’d like to thank you all for the wonderful birthday wishes. I’ve read almost all of them and work on more any chance I get. Onward and upward, or should I say downward? I’m only gonna hit on the high spots because you have a life and better things to do.
I baked a rhubarb cake last night to take to the YMCA this morning as a birthday treat. We ladies who do water aerobics sit around and gab over tea or coffee after class and invariably half of the Y saunters past to eavesdrop and/or scrounge goodies. It’s fun.
This morning I carefully cut the cake in even pieces, popped the lid back on and put it in the bottom of a large cloth bag along with plates, forks and napkins. Then I set it on the counter near my purse, next to my swimming suit which I was taking into the living room when I had my breakfast along with Good Morning America. I know. I live a wild and crazy life.
I arranged my tray like always and tweaked my pinky through a strap on the suit like always, turned like always and headed out. Except it wasn’t the suit. It was the handle of the bag with the cake, which got a mind of its own, did a two-and-a-half-flip-with-a-twist, like an Olympic ski jumper and landed face down on the floor. I said, “Goodness me, whatever will I do now?”
When I picked it up, being careful to at least keep the lid on, I was not happy. Inside all of those nice evenly sliced pieces had shifted to one side and overturned like dirt on a construction site. I pasted it back together as best I could, finished my breakfast and got dressed with that swim suit on under my clothes.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with this shirt today,” I said to Himself, tugging at the neckline. “It’s choking me and feels weird!” He said, “It would probably feel better if you turned it around. I don’t think the sparkles are supposed to be in the back.” I told him about my earlier episode with the cake and he said, “If everything in your life went okay, you’d have nothing to write about.” Tru Dat!
After the Y, I had to fly in the door and change clothes before having lunch with friends and then participating in a presentation mid-afternoon. HABAND just delivered my new white pants and they fit! Guys, you can leave now if you want, but if not just bear with me. I had on colored underwear and since I am neither Madonna, nor Miley Cyrus, I had to change them she they wouldn’t show through. But most of my tightie-whities were already in the laundry. So I dug to the bottom of the drawer, holding up a pair while trying to do the hip-size-versus-panty-size-versus-can-I-even-get-into-these math.
They went on. But the waist was tight. Would I be able to stretch the elastic a little? Oh come on, ladies, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Especially if you are of a certain size, like a real person is. Who hasn’t stretched a T-shirt or sleeve? Or panties? So I shoved my thumbs in and put on the pressure. . .alot. . .until they ripped right down the side seam. . .four inches! Since I was out of white panties and time, I wore them anyway.
Though it doesn’t happen often, I once again have to admit Himself was right about something. If I didn’t have the life I have I would not have any stories to write about. At all! FYI – The cake was still great; I managed to put the shirt on correctly at the Y; and I’m washing those torn panties. Who knows when I might be in a crunch again and need them? Besides, they were very comfortable. And you’re welcome.