So, I’ve decided to get organized and make this blog a bit more interesting and cohesive to read. We’ll see how long it lasts.
Starting sometime really soon, maybe today, Mondays will be (dun! dun! Duuuuuunnnnn!):
Memory Monday!
Generally speaking MM will consist of rambling memories. They may be mine. They may be someone else’s. They may be yours. They could be something that will happen in the future. But they WILL have to do with Memories.
Moving on from there we will have:
Wackadoo Wednesday!
Wackadoo is sort of hard to define. Which is awesome. It means I can pretty much write whatever I want. But I’ll try to make it bizarre, as befits anything Wackadoo. (Those are frosted feet, by the way. I know.)
Then the week will wind down with:
Food Feats Friday! (not to be confused with the Frosted Feets above)
(There was a host of horrifying pictures I could have put up for this, but I restrained myself. We’ll pretend I have the capacity to make that chef-defying dish above. We ate it at a lovely little re$taurant in Park City. I’ll go back. $oon as I publish my book and make $ome money.) On Fridays I will cook stuff. Or rather, I will post about cooking stuff. Whether it is a divine epicurean fantasy or a complete disaster, on Food Feats Friday! it will go. With pictures.
The rest of the week will be simpler. Maybe lovely pictures. Or weird pictures. Or lovely little quotes. Or disturbing little quotes. Or POETRY! (don’t be scared). Or even just a sweet, sighing little break. But probably not. I’ve got too many wackadoo memories to nosh on not to write about stuff.
Like this one:
So it was a beautiful Sunday (yesterday) and my friend came to visit. Life’s been hard lately (read: the last 6 years) but she’s doing fab-u-lously and she looks it. Gorgeous. She fights like a lioness but deals every day like a lamb. I hope to be like her when I grow up.
Anyway, we had a lovely chat and I told her how great she looked, and she said she was peaceful and happy. We hugged. She left.
Then she called me.
She had been driving up the hill from our home and saw an elderly gentleman–maybe in his 80’s–walking along. Looked like he’d been to church: nice button down shirt, dress pants, polished shoes. He was healthy too. Straight of back and walking briskly up a fairly gnarly hill. So my friend thought how wonderful that was and decided to wave–you know, spread a little of her new-found peace and cheer. She lifted her hand. So did the gentleman. She waved.
He flipped her off.
(That shouldn’t make me laught, but . . . Bwaaa hahahaha!)
Maybe he was walking up that hill because he was locked out of his house. Or he was walking off some steam. Or possibly he’s from a culture where raising the middle finger is a blessing of hope. Whatever it was, I hope he found some cheer at the top and folded his finger back in. ‘Twould be sad if he sprained the thing spreading all that hope.
🙂
I think that's called "pointing the finger of scorn" in the scriptures.
Hahahahahah!