Update on Christmas boxes

I talked to my daughter and she relayed how proud the grandkids were when they brought their Christmas boxes to church. "They marched down the aisle holding them proudly, and then stacked them onto a tower of other boxes. They thought they were so amazing." 

Everything was fine until they got in the car after service. It was then that Antonia began to sob. They finally figured out what she was saying, "You forgot my present." 

Evidently, she didn't understand that she had to leave it. After it was explained, she was fine. But, hey, she's only 2.

Plays, some of my favorite things

For our anniversary Russ took me to see a play. I love everything about live theater, the seats, the sounds, the costumes, the energy.

 What I enjoy the most is the mistakes. There's nothing quite so fun as watching the clever way that the actors recover if they forget a line, trip on stage, or if the prop door doesn't open. I don't know if I could be so skillful. I'm afraid that I would probably burst into laughter. That tends to be my operating mode when I'm embarrassed.

 Witness someone trip and fall on their face? I'm there holding my sides. 

Enduring a class for continuing ed credits? Some remark made by the instructor will be misconstrued by me and I'll be hiding a smile. 

Let's just say that there are some of my co-workers that refuse to sit by me during lectures. They don't want to end up laughing.

 And me? I'm looking for a mistake. There must be one. On any given day, I make several.

Line dancing

At the end of October I held a small (4) dance instruction class for my nieces. I had gone on the internet and found a dance set to some Alan Jackson music. It looked doable if I took out a few spins. I am not a spinner. 

Over the next 3 weeks I found myself working through the steps while I sat in my recliner, ate at the kitchen table, worked at my desk, and waited at stop lights. 

 How do you say obsessed? Anyway, the night for the dance came and we did it!!! They actually learned two variations and we ended up dancing for about two hours with a nice break for pizza, salad, soda, brownies, and ice cream.

 I'm ready to teach it to anyone else who'd like to learn. I can see a future event with the whole room moving to "Walkin' to Jerusalem". Let's dance.

Bumper stickers

I don't have bumper stickers on my car. I don't want to offend people that might perhaps become my friends. 

Have a sticker complaining about other drivers? That'll be the day that you run a red light or rearend a fellow traveler. 

Pro-life, pro-choice, Republican, Democratic, redneck? As soon as you label yourself, you become associated with every extremists that is giving your cause a bad name. 

While driving recently I experienced someone misreading a bumper sticker. They read, "I love ME," then commented, "Boy, that person is pretty self centered."

 My reply, "I think it means I love Maine." It did, we laughed, and that's why I don't have bumper stickers on my car.

Changing seasons

The season is changing again and we are getting to the point in life where there is no yardwork. The leaves are raked, the flowerbeds are put to rest, and for a short time it isn't snowing. I think most of marking time here is dependent on yardwork. 

 I wouldn't trade the changing of the seasons though. Putting on warm socks, turtlenecks, sweaters, and warm pants is comforting to me. 

 Don't let that be confused with how I feel when spring approaches. Then I can't wait to go barefoot, hang up the winter coats, and yes, even mow the lawn. 

This is the thankful month of life, this month of November. Look around and be thankful, it'll brighten the grey skies.

Death and Kids

Last May, my grandchildren's paternal grandfather died. Over the last year they have had numerous visits to his home and watched their parents and aunt sort through the household items and personal affects. They have witnessed many conversations on where and to whom things should go.

 One day I was in my bedroom and my granddaughter at 2, spied my necklaces hanging on a rack. I took them down for her to look at. My 7 year old grandson ran in and called to his 5 year old brother. "Domi, come here. Antonia, look at the necklaces. Pick out what you want for after Monya dies!"

Don't Forget Your Shoes

The grandkids and I went shopping for school supplies on Friday. I offered to take them out for breakfast, but since they think I make the best eggs, they opted to eat here.

 Getting three kids, street ready a

nd presentable, took some time but we were finally ready to head out. Karl, 7, set the lock on the door. They all grabbed a bottle of water, and while I was hunting for their shoes, I commented, "We can't forget your shoes. Where are they?" "In the car," the boys chorused. That's when Antonia pointed and ran into the livingroom. I followed to see her picking up her sandals. Pretty smart for 2. 

We hustled out, I closed the door, and began to load them into the car, adjusting car seats as needed. I tossed my purse into the front seat and looked down, no shoes. Pretty inept for 54.