Wished We Could've; Glad We Didn't

After many many many many years, I got to see the "Haunting of Hill House" presented on TV. I and other neighborhood kids were not allowed by our parents, to see it, as there were professional tormentors in the audience. Parents were protective in those days. So we kids devised a night game wherein we would scare 👻🧟‍♂️🧟‍♀️ the movie goers on their way home. Unfortunately, no one came down our street. 

Bill, however, went to it and got large welts on his hands, wrists, and neck that lasted for quite a long time. I said, didn't your parents try to keep him from going? I guess they didn't know.

Valentines Day 2020

Truly a morning I was reminded to treasure the "now" of life. The first glimpse I had of winter,☃️❄️ I admit to thinking, "uh oh", because I was going to drive to pick up the grand kids. But then, I thought, "isn't it beautiful?" The music🎼 from Blue Lake was soft and lovely as a background. Then, taking the scenic route to WMAAA and back with the kids, hearing Naia say something imaginative in the back, and of course, I can't remember what it was, which frustrated Bill when I told him. I think it was about Wisconsin Cheese. 🧀 I told the girls a little of my history living near Madison and often taking the train there,🚉 but they were just focused on the cheese.🧀 Since Bill's back is still in healing mode, I was elected to do the shoveling, yet even then, though not for very long, there was a strikingly beautiful red sunset. Took an extra ten minute walk, since some good Samaritan had done all the front walks on our street. Despite all the stuff going on, there's a lot of love 🥰 in the world. Hope you all had a Happy Valentine's Day.

One Hand Washes the Other

Here's my honesty moment. No, I'm not taking my trip to Iceland,✈️ publishing my story,📖 or lining up gigs.🧖‍♀️ 
In fact, I skipped choir to "pull a cow 🐄out of a ditch" (inside joke we tell each other, because we're Biblical-ly pretty literate, though maybe it wasn't a cow, after all, no, an Ox🐂) 
Today was not my favorite, starting with a common "object" in the house, having gotten plugged, and a husband attempting to get information on who would fix it, falling on ice on an already "sensitive" back, which meant I was the one who shoveled a pathway for our mail carrier,🚶‍♀️ gathered up the trash and took it to the curb. (slow cooked a roast meal, too, but that's what I do) Not complaining. It was rather invigorating under the moon and stars.🌙✨Thi
I just know that one day, I'll be the one who won't necessarily be injured (been there, done that), but I'll need him to be the strong one🦸‍♂️ just the same.
My errands continued into the next day shoveling the driveway, looking forward to shoveling the front walk and taking back the trash to the garage.
Even if you're only a generation removed from the farm, I would say, it toughens you up, like one time, an alcoholic repairman simply took the bathroom door off and left us without a door for quite a spell.  So, I pretended I was back on my uncle's farm in the outhouse🏘 looking over the 1/2 door out at the field.  I used this as yet another coping skill when the human waste kept piling up, pretending yet again that I was in the outhouse and its natural aroma, and it does turn out that when we get this toilet fixed, we just may have to  flush it 10 or 15 times.😄😁😆😅😂🤣

Masquerading Pop

Bill prides himself in reading labels unlike his wife, who glosses over them and sometimes, comes back with the wrong stuff. So, thinking he'd gotten himself some Popcorn,🍿 he was truly repentant that he'd gotten "Puffcorn". 🌬 Luckily for him, who could not eat it without gagging, I tasted it and loved it. I do see, that I'd better limit the intake, as it has all the calories, and likely none of the health benefits.🌽🌽

P.O. Time to Rethink this Policy

Event of the day, since there weren't too many, other than hassling with people on the phone. One of the hassles was telling the P.O. 📬 I shouldn't have to pay $10.83 for a package📦 sent. It had been sent in the media📘 mail, paid in full. The guy was trying to tell me that the box may contain a yearbook, which I didn't know how he might have known that, (I didn't), and the yearbook would have writing on it, disqualifying it as media. I retorted there's no such thing as a yearbook without writing on it. And as for books, we write all over them when we read them, ✏️🖊 so this is nuts! He gave in, this one time, as if I was a naughty kid,🧛‍♀️ or maybe a "confused" senior citizen,👩‍🦳 which is kind of the same thing.