The color on this chart that jumps out at me is cyan. A remarkable thing happened in 1967 as I was living in Houston, Texas, sitting in a Big Boy restaurant with my husband. I was pregnant and it was summer, no air conditioning in our car and every Friday night we went grocery shopping and ate out. I was young, nineteen, and a trip to the store was exhausting in hot humid weather. By the time we got into the checkout line at the grocery, I had to sit down by the side, feeling faint. When we were in the restaurant and waiting for our hamburgers, I spotted a young couple and their baby. The baby was dressed as a girl, had red curls and unbelievable eyes, the color cyan. They stood out as bright as the swatch of color you see above. I was a redhead and I thought, I hope our baby is as beautiful as she. I had a boy with dark brown curly hair đ and no redheads, or cyan eyes.
I woke up to 21 degrees F and went back to bed. Since morning chores done, it has warmed to 34F. Yesterdayâs melted ice has hardened and now slick. It seems my granddaughterâs college break is taking forever to arrive. Iâm not doing any shopping, Christmas or otherwise. I put out a few decorations and will find my light strings but donât think Iâll put up a tree. I wish you all a safe and healthy holiday season!
To die, to sleep, perchance to dream? All I want is to sleep! One night, no dreams, no thoughts running through my head.
To die? Well Iâm not that desperate yet. As a matter of fact I did die once, and before you ask, no, niet, nada. Not a light, not an angel, no pearly gates, nothing. I didnât even know I actually âpassed onâ till I read the doctorâs report of my death. Talk about an eyeopener, literally! A second time I thought I was dying and so did everyone else in the room, doctors and nurses included. That was scary, because I realized what was happening.
This week while family gathered, we were joking around, speaking about the ages of different ones. I mentioned something about Iâll be dead before then, and my daughter pipes up, âwerenât you dead already, a couple of times? Youâll outlive all of us!â We all laughed, and I said, âOh, my, God help us all!â And I meant it. Iâm already getting what I describe as crotchety, proven today by losing patience with my 13 year old grandson. Heâs emulating the âdrive you nuts, but Iâm lovableâ style of his older brother. He and his older sister were here to wrap presents and the day before was horribly busy and tiring. Having only two hours sleep, I was not my usually grandma persona. And they donât believe me if I say thatâs enough, Iâm serious! Because Iâm not usually serious. And they can make me smile even if Iâm mad. Does that make me a pushover?
Back to the sleep. After todayâs wrapping half the day and entertaining the ten year old tonight, Iâm pooped out. A side note, when my first grandson heard that for the first time, he thought it meant something else. See how my mind works? No wonder I canât sleep! I am physically tired. Iâm yawning. Why canât I sleep? Itâs 5:22 AM. Iâm writing this because sleep just wonât come. Hamlet had it easy.
Looking closely he noticed the date, scrawled on the back of the photo, from 1945. This must be his fatherâs book and photo. The date was after WWII had ended. Who could this be? The book was an antique itself, a book of love poems. He didnât know what he should do with it. His dad had passed away and it might stir up bad feelings for his mom. After talking with his wife, they decided to put the book, and photo away in their safe deposit box, the only place his mom would not see it.
The âSeamanâs Anchorâ bartender, secret EPA agent, listened to the creep at the end of the bar near a wooden pillar, which had a microphone and video camera to record any suspicious activity. A favorite drink of the man being recorded was red tea – vodka, tea, and cherry juice, served in a beer mug so he would not be thought a âmermaidâ, (anyone drinking âsissyâ fare). At the bartenderâs signal, EPA government agents would gallop in and make arrests.
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80 sounds like a lot, but fitting in those particular words – definitely a challenge. But FUN!đ¤
Joan hated Christmas shopping. Her husband Pete loved it. He took their children to the markets to find out what they wanted for Christmas and they grew up sharing their dadâs enthusiasm for the holidays. Knowing his wife was tired of all the hoopla about the season, Pete decided to surprise her. He told the children to keep it a secret, but they were too excited. When the five of them stopped in the small local market, they couldnât hold it in any longer. âMommy, weâre going to buy presents! Do you like thisâ, holding a fancy silver carafe.
The Bag Lady 
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