The other day for my Dear Ones e-mail friends, I sent out the fully copied obituary for my friend Ruth. I was still feeling some shock that she was gone so fast, it was just a couple days after the regular Needlework Group meeting and I had hugged her Good-bye then.
I got on the school district SubFinder computer schedule and made myself Unavailable for the day of her Memorial Service. Another friend from the group and I sat together on a wooden pew in a large church building which still has a very active membership list.
During the cookie and lemonade reception in the Fellowship Area, everyone at the table agreed that playing cards with lifelong friends on Friday evening, then leaving this world quickly because of a massive stroke on Saturday afternoon, well, there are worse fates to deal with when reaching an age of 78 years.
In Ruth’s Will, all her yarn and accessories was a bequest to the Senior Center. I was asked to help do some organizing work in the yarn storeroom, so I got on the TA Sub Schedule again and made myself Unavailable one more day.
Seems like earnings for my treadmill machine needed to be nudged aside when duty and friendship calls.
Moving right along for the rest of the weekend:
Did you watch NUMB3Rs on CBS-tv last night? Husband and I were all settled in with our popcorn and root beer.
I’m glad the writers didn’t send away or kill off Agent Colby Granger, but I’m relating to how much work he’s gonna have to do to get back into good grace with the other folks.
We decided to try a different place for breakfast this morning. Kep’s Country Kitchen across the parking lot from Big K-Mart. The scrambled eggs were good, the sausage so-so, the glass of cranberry juice wasn’t worth the difference in price. The waitress is someone who worked awhile at another breakfast place, and made us feel right at home.
MY main complaint is that the coffee creamer, though in liquid form, was of the non-dairy variety, and it took oh so many little containers to get the coffee the proper shade of tan.
I much prefer full dairy half-n-half.
We stopped at a yard sale on the way home. There was a storybook of Little Black Sambo, the same I had when I was a little girl. I snapped it up, of course. When it came time to pay, the grandma hostess said she had to renege—that book is very rare in these politically correct days. She said her daughter did not realize what she had there, priced at only 25c and all.
I didn’t want it for re-sale on e-bay, I just wanted a reminder from my childhood.
Ah well, we win some, and lose many more.
This afternoon, Husband cleared a large area in the garage by taking a bunch of stuff to the hazardous waste drop-off site. It’s nice to know that two containers of old gasoline drained out of the VW are no longer 6 feet away from my bicycle. And the smell has improved in just one afternoon.
There’s been a bag of apples resting by the leg of the kitchen table for about two weeks. I finally got around to peeling and coring and cooking down into applesauce. My dutch oven pan is about 3/4 full. I think I’ll freeze two containers, then the rest can stay in the fridge for yummy eating.
Son Chris came out of the bathroom shouting
“I just wanted a close shave, not a self sacrifice!”
I believe that’s a quote from Bill Cosby, but my heart leaped to my throat knowing that my baby boy is shaving, actually has done so for years, and he’s got a date tonight. In Urbana.
Which means he’s driving my car an hour on the interstate. I’ll have to use his for any errands here in town.
In many ways, I find it more difficult to be a mom when my sons are taller than I am.
Hey, I have the house all to myself! Even the cats are outside.
I think I’ll put on some Donny Osmond tunes while I fold laundry.
~~love and Huggs, Diane