Posted tagged ‘crooked pictures’

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

April 6, 2013

My house was cold when I woke up this morning. I needed socks. Without warm feet, I’m doomed to feel chilly even in slippers. I felt a bit of a nip in the air when I went to get the papers. Gracie was quickly out and quickly back inside. She and the two cats are having their morning naps. After all, they have been up all of three hours.

I wonder who first decided toast was for breakfast. I toast sandwich bread too but mostly I don’t, except for BLT bread which demands to be toasted. I always toast my bread for breakfast so a toaster is a must in my kitchen. Was toast happenstance or a brilliant idea? That’s one of the mysteries of life. I hate crooked pictures. Why go to all the trouble of locating the right spot, finding a nail, hammering it onto the wall and then hanging a picture you totally forget about? Pictures by their very shape need to be straight. I don’t mind an unmade bed. I like a made bed better, but I’m okay if it’s unmade. I think that’s because I don’t go upstairs enough to be bothered by it. Sometimes clothes sit in my dryer for a few days or even a week until I do laundry again. Folding it and then bringing the laundry up two flights is one of my least favorite chores. The laundry rush used to happen when I ran out of clean underwear, but that’s no longer the case. I bought plenty for my trip to Ghana so the laundry can sit in the dryer for a while. I don’t care about wrinkles. No where I go has a sign which says shoes, shorts and no wrinkles. Dirty dishes in the sink drive me crazy. I wash them by hand every day as I don’t have near enough for the dishwasher, and I want my favorite coffee cup every morning. I hate bad grammar being spoken on a TV series. It perpetuates the downfall of the English language. I care, but other people don’t. I get the line,”You understood it, didn’t you? That drives me crazy. If a song is sung off-tune, I can still hear it. Is that enough?

I have to go out today. Gracie and I have a few errands, but I’ll have to wait until later this afternoon. I’d hate to disturb her nap-time.

“His socks compelled one’s attention without losing one’s respect”

September 26, 2011

Today is perfectly beautiful. The sun is warm without being hot, the sky is blue and there is a slight breeze. All week the temperature will be in the low 70’s. I doubt it gets much better than this.

My right arm is peeling, a souvenir from my Ghanaian journey. On the way up-country to Tamale, I got quite the sunburn. I told Thomas, my driver, I had to sit backwards all the way to Accra. He told me I would be uncomfortable.

Every now and then I run into a day when I have absolutely nothing going on in my head. I stare out the window hoping for some sort of inspiration and am usually disappointed. The neighborhood has a barking dog at the moment, and that’s the only excitement, and I’m stretching the meaning of excitement by even using that word. I guess this will just have to be a stream of consciousness day.

When I was young, the tops of all my socks were stretched and hung down near my shoes. My mother told me not to pull on the tops to put them on my feet. I never listened, and I really didn’t care if they were stretched. I’m not even sure if I cared if they matched. I have a friend who only wears white socks, the same kind of white socks. He never minds losing one sock.

I can sew on a button so it stays on. Sometimes I sew it so well I can’t get it into the button hole. The button has no give. My clothes can be wrinkled or faded, but I won’t wear shirts missing buttons. I even have a box of buttons so I can through and try to match the missing one. I don’t sew anything else.

Crooked pictures drive me crazy as do candles leaning to one side or the other. The rug in the living room is an area rug. It came from Turkey, and I love it for its figures and its muted colors. I have this thing about the sides being placed exactly the same on each outside board. The dog is prone to bringing her toys to that rug and play on it. She also brings a biscuit to picnic on the rug. Both things drive me crazy, but I allow them and then go back and clean up and move the rug so it is even. I figure it’s a small thing in the realm of things.

I don’t always make my bed. Strangely enough I did when I worked, and back then I left for work by 6:20 each morning. I think the reason I don’t now is every day has the potential of being a nap day, and I’d hate to mess up a well made bed.

Well, it’s time to finish. My heart is pumping. Two dogs are now barking, and Gracie is going out to investigate. I’m not sure how much more excitment I can take!

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