Mundane Monday

Mundane? Yes. Unbusy? No.

Work continues to be very hectic, but for now I get a break since football season is over. We start basketball in the next two weeks, so I have to enjoy my brief reprieve.

This is my absolute favorite time of year, and my favorite month, so I was thrilled to sit on the deer stand for a few hours yesterday. Didn't see a thing, but the solitude, sights and smells of nature made me feel refreshed and more in touch with the things I love...the outdoors, beautiful scenery, and simple pleasures.

Finally got B's centerpiece done for her table. She bought an antique aluminum basket during the girls' weekend, and I made her a fall arrangement with flowers we purchased at Everything's a Dollar. It looks like a million, if I do say so myself. I love making pretty things on a budget, it...just...feels...so....satisfyingly....frugal. I guess I'm just a redneck Martha Stewart.

I fell 'off the wagon' and gorged myself on homemade oatmeal cookies last night. I swear, if I ate one I ate 15. I haven't had a sweet-binge in a long, long time. Plus, I almost drank a half gallon of milk along with it. So, I forgive myself here and now. Note to self: must drink gallons of water this week.

Still schemin' and dreamin'...working on a few things that I've always wanted to do. Who knows what lies in my future? So tell me...have you ever, or are your currently pursuing YOUR dream? Holla.

The Followup Report

What can I say?

Food, fun and best of all, friends.

Operation Girls' Night 2 went off as planned, except the Little Debbies went untouched. That's right...for some reason, we just didn't dive into the junk food. I suppose it could be that it's physically impossible to partake of a banana twin and talk without using the Heimlich maneuver. So, we just talked. With the exception of gallons of coffee, and my bag of beef jerky, no food was consumed.

However, we were consumed with all the antique malls in and around said undisclosed location. Here's a hint: If you are broke, and want to go shopping anyway? Go antiquing. Fun. Cheap. Nuff said.

Although we didn't eat a case of junk food, we did partake of some very good meals. Let me tell you about a little ole place called AP's Seafood. If you are ever in the area of Jacksonville, AR, and you want to get the best plate of seafood EVER, go there. Just do it. The last time I ate there was 15+ years ago, and it was kickin' good then. Plus, I snarfed down a huge platter of the biggest and tastiest crablegs I have ever experienced. All I can say is....shazam. I'm sure I gained 10 pounds over the weekend.

To my girls? Thanks, thanks, thanks for one of the funnest weekends ever. And especially thanks for all my pre-birthday gifts. You really do know how to make a girl feel spe-shul.

Final note: The Liverpool Rummy tie breaker will belong to none other than moi, myself, yo, I, me. Just letting y'all know ahead of time so it won't hurt your feelings too badly.

I LOVE YOU TWO CRAZY GALS!

Operation Girls' Night 2

Many of you may be well aware of the First Girls' Night extravaganza that was held earlier this year with me and two of my dear friends. Well it's on again. but this time, there will be no Sex and the City marathon. It will be more of a marathon devoted to two things....

Sleep....and....

Little Debbie Snack Cakes.

It will be held at an undisclosed location somewhere in the central part of the state.

Due to covert ops involving sugary snacks and a coffee pot, the location must be kept secret to protect the innocent. During the operation, mass quantities of girl talk will be exchanged, as well as advice about which method is best for removing calluses from your big toe. Nail polish will be shared, as well as the latest cosmetic breakthroughs which will absolutely make you look ten years younger with just one application.

No men will be allowed on the premesis due to the sensitive nature of the participants. Overworked, stressed and needing a break, those in attendance, however, will be allowed to TALK about men to relieve any stress they are feeling due to the lack of sensitivity displayed by said males.

Ultimately, the goal is for the participants to come away refreshed, rested and recharged. Hopefully, the desired effects will be lasting, and not be wiped out with one thoughtless comment from a member of the opposite sex upon returning home.

Wish us luck, and I'll give a full and accurate account of the operation upon it's termination.

This blog will self-destruct in 10 seconds.....

Hey, Nine-ty

This past weekend, my family celebrated the 90th birthday of my maternal grandmother. Her actual birthday was yesterday, Halloween. But due to convenience for family, we celebrated early on Saturday.

My Mamaw Mable, circa 1935

When I think about the expanse and discourse of 90 years, it boggles my mind. Most days, I am concerned about getting throught the next 90 seconds, much less years. Her mind remains sharp as a proverbial tack. But, in spite of her physical ailments, my grandmother plods on, living, breathing, eating, sleeping, thinking. Herein lies my dilemma...do I really want to live for 90 years?

The fact that my rambling mind is a constant companion in waking hours, and sometimes during dreams, makes me think I don't have the desire to listen to myself that long. I'm just not that interesting...besides, we all know that we will be ultimately alone at the end of our lives.

I have no spouse, no kids...my future is looking pretty, well, blank. Am I interesting enough to entertain myself for the next 55 years?

I can see myself at age 90...sitting in my hoveround (on the front porch), fully equipped with mud grips, heavy duty basket, vee-blade in front, 2" hitch on back...and a shotgun laid across my lap. Of course, I will be wearing a cowboy hat and boots in honor of my father, and will in all likelyhood have a revolver (.44 mag) cocked and ready in a holster somewhere on my person. Of course, I will be in possession of a flask, filled with Jim Beam. I, no doubt, will be keeping watch over my place, just waiting for someone to come along and challenge my authority. I'm sure I will own a hoveround, because my knees are sure to blow about age 50. They will be replaced, only to have them wear out again at 85.

Little kids will be horrified of me, adults will possess a reverent fear and awe of my personage, and hardened criminals will flee in my wake. Of course, no curmudgeon would be complete without a guardian, a companion to watch their back while napping. I think I'll have a brindle gray Catahoula with glass eyes...that should impell sufficient loathing and contempt into anyone thinking about bugging me. I'll feed him razorblades to keep him mean. Plus, no old crusty lady would be such without a herd of cats. They can keep the mice out of my house.

What about you? How do you see your life playing out? Ultimately, I would desire to have a long life, but can I handle it? Can I pull it off and make it fun?
I guess I, like everyone else, will have to wait and see. I have become somewhat crotchety already, so I am bound to be exponentially caustic by then. Oooooo, goody. I can't wait.