A few weeks ago, Paul, laden down with grocery shopping bags having done all of the week’s shopping because, evidently, I “can’t be trusted to bring home anything else than cold beer and frozen pizza with the bounding enthusiasm of a Golden Retriever”, became frustrated with trying to keep a hold of everything and turn the doorknob at the same t
I'm Just Saying
After appealing to prayer warriors on FB to send thoughts and prayers to our old truck, in the end we realized that the most compassionate decision we could make was to put it out of its misery and to let it live on by donating its V10 engine to those in need.
Paul is currently beginning his second week of leading a tour of historic rose gardens throughout England, and the rest of us, state-a side, are following along with the daily photos he is posting on social media: Sissinghurst, Mottisfont Abbey, a lunch and wine tasting with Lord Throckmorton of Coughton Court...
This is how old I am’, I thought, as I maneuvered my shopping cart around a display of flip flops and just missed an orderly line of patio umbrellas, ‘I remember when grocery stores only sold food.’
Driving home after a speaking engagement, it was a beautiful evening and I lowered (no one says ‘rolled down’ anymore, have you noticed?) the windows to take advantage of the cool night air and the scent of mown fields that poured past like a green river.
Pauuuuuuuullllllllll!” I screamed, hands on either side of my mouth, as loud as I could.
“I’m right here,” Paul said needlessly.
“Not you,” I replied, and taking another deep breath, shrieked, “Pauuuuulllllllll!”
I don’t like to think of myself as one of those people who, in order to fill some soulless void within themselves, purchase new things as a distraction from what they consider to be the emptiness in their life.
You know when you’re googling ‘dog reincarnation’ that you either are dealing with insomnia (I was), or some highly interesting, if not entertaining, events have been occurring.
I’ve always said that columnists that resort to using lists in their weekly musings are being lazy and not putting in the effort to dig deep to find something new and interesting to comment about.
I haven’t slept that great this past week, so you’re getting a list.
Why do you do it?” Paul asked, after inadvertently finding me standing in the kitchen with my eyes shut with arms crossed over my chest, wobbling about with one foot held off the floor. “Why do you read these on-line medical things that end up scaring the hell out of you?”