Category Archives: Humor

Mothers are precious- Happy Mother’s Day

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Just saying. . .I enjoyed these quotes about Moms. . .Happy Mother’s Day, Claudia

Keep it alive

WQ #19: May 10: MOTHER’S DAY/ROYAL PURPLE

Logo by Donna @ Retirement Reflections

Sweet mother

I remember

Your scent vaguely

Your face dimly

Yet in my heart

You’ll always stay

Forever young

Forever present

I am that mother

Always ready to impart wisdom

My daughters are wonderful moms

Yet they listen to my advice with patience

They may follow their own inclinations

But they do recognize that I’ve been a mother longer

Want to share – go to mom

Want to learn- go to mom

Want a hot meal- go to mom

Want a shoulder to cry on- go to mom

Want to have fun- go to mom

Mom is always there to give support

She can be whatever you need at the time

➰➰➰

In response to;WQ #19: How Appropriate is Royal Purple for Mothers?, hosted by Marsha

#Keepitalive

#WQ

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Why Do the Things We Do

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What Day Is It?

Today is Saturday, May 13th , the one hundredth and thirty-third day of the year. We’ll be half way through 2023, on day one hundred and eighty-two; and there are forty-nine days until we reach that milestone, July 1st..

Why these snippets of information are important to me, I’m not sure. Never the less, every morning before getting out of bed, I mentally review the date, the day of the week and things I must do.

Does anyone else do this?

This morning, I smiled, grateful for no have to list. No doctor’s appointments, pick up this, return that, or stopping by. Which meant, no; where did I park the car, leave my cell, or oops, I left my credit card and bags in the car.

Why not head to the beach? Because, I can’t take the sun, the water’s still cold, and there are no lifeguards.

 Instead, we watched the movie The Summer of 42, on TCM, at 7am in the morning. Both of us had been awake since 5.

Why do I care about forty-nine days from now and the year being half gone? Well, we know time will start to fly after July 1st., and the holidays will be here and gone. Blink and it will be 2024, and we’ll all be another year older.

I have been working on my first novel for ten years, and have a zoom session with the editor/publisher and illustrator on Monday. There will be many must do lists in my future and hopefully some fun.

But I feel the days slipping away    

                                                                                      . . . just saying

P.S. Optomobility update; The eye doctor prescribed eye glasses with prisms to correct my walking cock-eyed. I’ve never heard of this cure. Have any one else?

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No Time To Write

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Optokentic and Optomobility

It’s true . . . I really don’t have time to write.

Today, the one hundredth and twenty-fifth day of the year, is a typical example.

Having slept well, I woke chipper and chanting, thank you God. Then, prepared coffee and my favorite breakfast, an English muffin with cherry jelly. I gathered my phone; computer, clipboard and the right pen and pencil, and sat outside to enjoy the morning air and Wordle.

On the first attempt, I had 3 correct letters, none in the right place. One hour later, I had 3 letters in their right spot, but was still missing two correct letters. So, I asked my husband for help. However, we were interrupted when a pint of blueberries fell to the kitchen floor. Sweeping them up was like playing blueberry pool, and yes, I rinsed and put them in the box. None of them had been squashed.

 I can’t remember what time it was but, a downpour occurred, and I scurried outside to retrieve my phone, computer, clipboard and right pen and pencil from being soaked.

I was frazzled and hadn’t brushed and flossed, yet.

Do you own a toothbrush recommended by your dentists with a timer? I live in fear of his eyebrows being raised on my next visit.

Another reason I don’t have time to write is doctor’s appointments.        

For years I believed Vertigo and/or sinus infections were the cause of my incurable balance issues. Turns out, it’s not just vertigo that causes my wobble walk, but Optokentic and Optomobility.

What is that?

To put in layman talk . . .dancing eyes. I my case, it’s my right eye that flutters and sends a mixed message to my brain. Consequently, my legs don’t know which way to go.

The cure? Watching Youtube videos of strolling through a grocery store or Muir Woods, without moving my head.

I am optimistic there will be some relief.

The last reason I don’t have time to write?

I have an editor/publisher for Morningside Drive, the novel I have been working on for ten years!

                                                                                    

                                                                                      . . . just saying

P.S. I hope things are going well at your house.

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Obsession or Procrastination

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The Days of My Life

Is decluttering an obsession or a form of procrastination? Regardless, there is no time for writing. Here’s my latest pastime, finding a home, not mine, for the perfectly good items I no longer use or want. Like; a Garmin, or the shower head that was replaced, or curtain rod brackets. I save the plastic containers strawberries and other food items come in. I can see what is in each box and they snap shut. But, do you know how much effort and time goes into removing the old labels? There was no time for new labels. That’s on next’s week to do list. I probably won’t have time to write. Besides it was garbage day.

I am preoccupied with getting my house in order, i.e., fixing the outdoor water spigot that spits water in my face when turned on, or replacing the entrance way light bulb twenty feet above ground. Do you know anyone who will come to my house with a ladder? I am willing to pay.  

Is it anxiety? Some people take a pill, and that is fine. I scrub, run the sweeper, and organize. I want the towels folded just right and my underwear stacked by color in the dresser. My life is about tidying-up, and how did get to be so?

Perhaps it’s about control. The world has become chaotic. We wake up to another mass shooting, unprovoked invasion of countries, and weather disasters.

I want hospital corners on the bed and the pillows fluffed.

                                                                                     

. . . just saying

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De-cluttering

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The Days of My Life Series

One night last week I could not sleep. Well, that is not totally true. I slept until 4:30 am and could not get back to sleep; probably because the handy-man was coming to install more shelving in the closets. So, I got out of bed at 5:30am.

Since I was up so early there was time to do the daily Wordle, before emptying the closets. I am hooked on the word game. Now I have something to look forward to in the morning. However, I debate whether to press play before my first cup of coffee, or wait until later in the day. Once it is done, the thrill is gone. . .though the satisfaction lingers. My friend, Pat, said she has gotten out of bed at 12:01am to play. Sounds like an addiction, that might be called wordling.

Please, tell me your thoughts and Wordle techniques.

Let me go back to the shelving, which cost more ($500.) than the labor, but was well worth the expense. Now I have every single cleaning product in one place. I know where my winter coats are and an extra shelf in the primary bedroom for storage. The garage attic, although pathetically small, is empty. I still have stuff to get rid of, like six boxes of photo albums. Nobody is dying anytime soon, but I don’t want my clutter to be someone else’s headache.

                                                                                      . . . just saying

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Out With the Old in With the New

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The Days of My Life Series

Today is the 72nd day of the year. Can you believe it? My draft of this post was written on January 1st., with a commitment to post at least once a week. However life didn’t go as planned. It’s a mystery as to where and when I lost control. February flew by with little to show for it and is a blur. Perhaps it was the shower curtain rod that kept falling down in the guest bathroom, the bedroom wallpaper curling off the wall, or the bedroom shade that collapsed leaving us exposed. Duck tape failed to solve anything. Maybe because we frequently need a magic wand to get the automatic garage door open, or that I got COVID after being fully vaccinated, and I’m not going to mention other health related stuff that consumed my time and energy.

The original post is below. Welcome to the days of my life.

We all can agree 2022 was one heck of a year. Combine that with the previous pandemic years of hibernating, well. . .I want to break out and tidy-up. So, it is out with the old and in with the new.

First step was to get rid of and rearrange furniture. I listed a couch and wooden file cabinet on Nextdoor, moved the dining room table to the breakfast nook, and ordered a new dining room table.

Now we have a dance floor until its arrival.

The 20 plastic carriers hidden in the closet have been reduced to 10.

But what do you do with that stuff? Framed college diplomas, wedding and communion picture albums, football trophies, baby teeth and dried up leather baby shoes, a box of flower vases, that were never unpacked, etc. It is time to say goodbye.

And then there is the stuff I am not ready to say goodbye to.

Like the card below.

My friend Liz, made Bob’s 60th birthday card, fourteen years ago.

She and I have been friends since we were thirteen.

I can’t throw out a find that represents our lifelong friendship.

This treasure will go back in my closet.

                                                                                      . . . just saying . . .welcome to the days of my life

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Christmas 2022

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Photo by Lacy Darden on Pexels.com

Christmas 2022 Poem

The Day After Christmas

It was the day after Christmas the presents unwrapped. The plants nestled and covered. . . taking a nap.

We stayed in pajamas relieved only three gifts go back,

Then what to my wondering ears did I hear, “didsomeonejustshout?”

Confused, I responded, “what are you talking about?”

Bob repeated, “didsomeonejustshout?”

I hollered back.

To which he exclaimed, “WEDNESDAY…THE…GARBAGE…GOES OUT”

Merry Christmas to all!

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

 Wishing you a happy and healthy New Year

. . .Claudia just saying.

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No Worries Hurricane Ian

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Photo by lucas andreatta on Pexels.com

Please don’t think I’m being cavalier with the title. Tampa, the West Coast, and Central Florida will be impacted. Thankfully they are preparing and ready to evacuate. We live on the east coast of Florida, between St. Augustine and Daytona Beach, in new construction. Our outside walls are cinder block. The house has few windows. Building codes do not permit windows (tiny panes of glass) on garage doors.

We won’t evacuate, there isn’t any safer place within driving distance.

We will probably loose electricity and not able to cook the food that is defrosting in the freezer and refrigerator. I’ll freeze 16 oz bottles of water then put them in the refrigerator so things don’t rot, if we do. 

We will need flashlights and candles to see after 7pm and the toilets will not flush. I’ll be prepared by filling up the bathtub with water ahead of time. One bucket of water will flush things down.  

We won’t open the windows. The air inside will be cooler than outside despite no air conditioning.

All outdoor and furniture will be brought indoors. Last time our living area resembled a hotel lobby with seating for twenty-four.

I believe we’ll be okay and pray the rest of Florida and the surrounding states will be as well.

. . . just saying

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What’s In Your Future?

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Photo by Maksym Tymchyk on Pexels.com

A Tiny House

I’ve heard (can’t remember where or by whom), that the trouble with aging is we think more about the past, worry about the present, and think little of the future. At my age, seventy-four, even in the best of health, the next ten to twenty years will be entirely different than the past twenty. It’s a different time in my life and I can be grumpy and mad, or think about the future.

Recently my horoscope said, “You have to go to where the light is.”

I live in Florida. There is plenty of light and wear sunglasses to take out the garbage.

The advice, by Holiday Mathis, who writes the syndicated daily horoscope column for hundreds of newspapers, is the author of several books, and a multi-platinum songwriter (her songs have been recorded by Miley Cyrus, Emma Roberts and others), made sense.

References to moving into the light, implies embracing spirituality.

Perhaps I should attend church more.

Moving into the light suggest death or afterlife.

I’m not ready to die, but. . . maybe I need to avoid route 95 and look 20, instead of 10 times, before backing out of a parking space.

Although. . . It could mean; avoid negativity and surround myself with bright cheery people, places and things.

If I close my eyes and dream about the future, what do I see? A tiny house with lots of windows and a river view. The above picture doesn’t truly capture the picture in my head. I’m thinking more like this.

. . . just saying

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Where Are You Going?

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Photo by S Migaj on Pexels.com

My brain is fried.

I simply cannot think, not that there is anything wrong with that.

Bob and I have “Binge Watched” Virgin River.

Now that we are finished, I’m in withdrawal and miss Doc and Mel every day. We haven’t a clue if or when season five will be release, and I worry about Preacher when I go to sleep, and pray Jack isn’t alcoholic.

Meanwhile, I introduced Bob to Frankie and Grace. It’s in its thirteenth season so there will be lots of binging, and no worries about Jane Fonda; she knows the best plastic surgeon around.

Today I thought this is ridiculous, and grabbed a book that wasn’t a book club selection.

Sacred Contracts Awakening Your Divine Potential by Caroline Myss is a heavy read. Forget fretting about why we are here. The spiritual path to wellness and a happy life is purpose and Myss has a processes to get us there.

My head was spinning from the Acknowledgements and Appreciation sections, but I pushed through my lack of comprehension to read page one where things started to make sense.

Myss, referenced Howard Thurman, a late theologian, mystic and Harvard professor who had two questions he said to ask ourselves.

“The first is ‘Where am I going?’ and the second is “Who will go with me?”

Now, that’s what I’m thinking about.

Travel!

So, where am I going?

Well . . . I’ve visited the White House at Christmas before, but want to go again.

Who will go with me?

I’m unsure.

This is a link to my December 2012 visit, A White House Christmas

. . . just saying

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