'Tis the season to gorge on goodies, beverages, delicacies, presents, and decorations, etc. Wait...why presents and decorations? I know, I know...gorge, by definition, means fill oneself with food. Duh...but it's okay sometimes to stretch thoughts and make words work, right? As an empty nester, and a woman over the 52-year mark (why not just say 53?… Continue reading A gorge of sorts (oh, and some houses…)
Author: Shelley
Letting my quirk out one post at a time.
Our saintly-cheeky cat – jokes on us
Our cat Tizzie is truly a devout cat. She is pious enough to stay quiet most of the time. As a cat who knows what cats should be like, she sits in her saintly manner often. But, she another side to her where she prefers to perch herself in a cheeky cat-like way throughout our house. She… Continue reading Our saintly-cheeky cat – jokes on us
An alarming relocate morning
What the heck is that sound ringing in the middle of my girlfriend's boyfriend's guitar solo? It doesn't go with the song? Why is it still playing? Oh crap, is that the alarm clock? Ringing at 3:45 am? I'm sort of awakened from my dream, but close my eyes again and start to drift off.… Continue reading An alarming relocate morning
Laundry patina has come a long way baby
I remember my grandma using our 1900's Cream City copper kettle when she was doing laundry. I was pretty young back then, but old enough to notice the level of depth doing the laundry represented. Imagine having to soak your clothes in a copper tub, use a washboard to scrub the clothes (not too hard,… Continue reading Laundry patina has come a long way baby
A stretch of the Christmas tree arrival
When I was little, the exact date of the arrival of our Christmas tree was always an unknown. Being influential at that time, I came to understand the appearance of our tree would be a mystery of sorts - stretching out well into December. We'd end up with a tree eventually, but rarely as soon… Continue reading A stretch of the Christmas tree arrival
A bubbling up of ‘I should’ve know better’
At my age, I should know better. About a lot of things. Like knowing when to keep my mouth shut or speak up; when to say 'no' to one more beer; when to close up the bag of chips before I regret the puff factor showing up the next day, etc. You get it. My… Continue reading A bubbling up of ‘I should’ve know better’