A FINE AND LINGERING SCENT

Nosey Delights - From the yeasty warmth of freshly baked bread to the clean, summery haze of lavender flowers, we all have favorite smells we find particularly comforting. What’s yours?


There was a time when I baked bread. The smell would bring friends and neighbors lining up at the kitchen door to get a hunk off a warm, newly baked loaf. I was a good baker, but one day I got tired of spending ten hours to bake 4 loaves of bread which would be consumed by my pals in about 10 seconds.

empty chairs

I used to love the smell of new-mown grass, but we have no grass here, just crabgrass, weeds, rocks, and woods. And though the smell of freshly mown anything is good, weeds and crabgrass don’t have quite the same kick as grass.

I suppose my favorite smell these days is the scent of supper being cooked by someone else wafting from the kitchen. Someone who isn’t me.

It’s the smell of a night off from the kitchen. It is yummy and I can’t get enough of it!

Image

TEST SHOTS: CEE’S ODD BALL PHOTOS – WEEK 20

Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: Week 20

The oddest photographs are the ones I take when I get my hands on an unfamiliar camera and want to see what it will do. Anything becomes fair game for the lens. And I do mean anything.

72-SummerWindow-TestShotsZS25_27

All of these were taken in low light. And from the recliner. Talk about feeling lazy! It also was a fair test of the telephoto lens in moderately low light.

72-Oddball-TestShotsZS25_07

Who will be the first to throw away the dead flowers? I hate throwing them out, so I wait until Garry gets me a new bouquet. No flowers this week — or last week — so it’s still waiting. It has become a contest. Who will break first? Probably me. Garry can ignore it forever.

18th century Japanese porcelain cohabits with 19th century Italian blown glass.

18th century Japanese porcelain cohabits with 19th century Italian blown glass.

How close can you get without getting out of the recliner? Pretty close.

Who will clean that window?

Who will clean that window?

No one is willing to climb a ladder so the window will never be clean. I think of it as life’s natural bokeh.

A KITCHEN-CENTRIC SHARING OF MY WORLD

Share Your World – 2014 Week 26

Is your refrigerator, organized or a mess inside? 

Our refrigerator is an organized mess. Organized loosely, mostly by the height of the shelves. Tall stuff (mostly liquid) on top. Short stuff in the middle. Tallish stuff, veggies, fish, cold-cuts, whatever on the bottom shelf and in the pullout baskets.

Sometimes, what’s in those pullout baskets has been there too long. Forgotten veggies have morphed into pulpy messes. Meanwhile, leftovers from who-knows-when lurk in the back, covered with strange fuzzy fungi and now beyond identification. Yoicks.

If you could be famous for one thing, what would it be?

It certainly wouldn’t be my housekeeping, athletic prowess, or skill with arts and crafts.

marilyn selfie

So let me suggest, as a writer and photographer, that I’d like to be known as a pretty good writer who also took some nice pictures. That would do it for me.

What one thing have you not done that you really want to do?

You mean — ever? Or recently? Because I’ve done most of the things I wanted to do. Some of them I wish I had the wherewithal to do again … but my life has been full and interesting. Looking back, I don’t feel deprived. Poor, yes. Deprived, no.

Where do you eat breakfast?

A better question would be “Do you eat breakfast?”

To which I would have to reply “Define breakfast.”

I definitely drink coffee. With fervor and great enthusiasm. I don’t drink coffee all day, but first thing in the morning, coffee makes the wheels go round. The smell of it, the taste of it. The heat of it. Ah coffee.

And I eat something with my coffee. A protein bar. A small piece of pastry or a cookie. I don’t get serious about real food until lunch. Before then, I’m in coffee mode.

Don’t even think about telling me I should cut out caffeine. Not a word.

Mr. Coffee

Gallery

ORDINARY PLACES, EVERYDAY THINGS

Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: Week 18

Among the pictures I take, there are some — such as these — that make me wonder why I am bothering, especially because there’s no obvious story, nothing particularly beautiful. Except that these are things and places that are part of my everyday world. Where I shop, how I live. I often find them beautiful. Maybe this is my way of trying to show you the beauty I find in the more ordinary places.

The parking lot at the grocery store. I should point out it is also the parking lot of the bank, the local Chinese restaurant, Dunkin Donuts of the cockroaches, and my hairdresser — even though most of our visits are grocery-related. And of course, my kitchen with the morning light shining in through the top of the dutch door.

oddball

IT’S YOUR FAULT. YES, YOU!

Sleepy Time - More and more of us go to bed too late because of sleep procrastination. What are the nighttime rituals that keep you up before finally dozing off?


I blame you, WordPress. Until I started blogging, I’d go to bed, read a bit, then clutch my pillow and be off to dreamland for a few restless, miserable hours. Now, I have to check (and recheck) my blog. See how today’s offerings look on three differently formatted devices (tablet, Kindle, small computer). Find the typos. There are always typos because I am The Typo Queen and no one can put more typos in a small post than I can. If typos could be made an Olympic event, I would have a gold medal — but I digress. What was I talking about?

Oh. Sleep. The whole “bedtime procrastination” thing. I don’t think we could be classified as a bedtime procrastinators because we have no schedule. As retirees, we rarely need to get up at a particular time. Unless there’s something on the calendar. The only other thing remotely time-sensitive is trying to shop for groceries on Tuesday when the supermarket gives its senior discount.

75-Parked-46

Personally, I think they should give us a discount every day. Tuesday is a mess of scooters, walkers, and bewildered people trying to remember why they are in the bread aisle and if they are lost or truly need bread. And where’s the list? They can’t find their money at checkout and are frequently confused as to where they left the car. Since we aren’t that far behind them, mentally speaking, we wait patiently as they work their way through the equation of life. Soon that could be us. I’m willing to bet this is unrelated to the hour at which they went to bed.

Hopefully, we won’t be stuck behind them as we exit the parking lot. They drive so slowly. If we had a manual transmission, we’d never make it out of first. They have to compete with the other slow, bad drivers who are decades younger. The younger folks can’t drive because they are too busy. Texting, talking on the phone, adjusting radios, yelling at kids (husband, dogs, themselves) while swerving all over the road.

It’s a nightmare out there and it has nothing to do with getting enough sleep, although it is possible that some of the slowest drivers are taking a nap, don’t realize they are at the wheel of a car and supposed to be moving.

Have I forgotten anything? Where’s my list?

Image

ODD BALL PHOTO CHALLENGE – WEEK 14

Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: Week 14

I took this weeks’ oddball photos today. In my kitchen and on the deck. Just because.

My froggy sun dial on the deck.

My froggy sun dial on the deck.

Gone. We had it for dinner.

Gone. We had it for dinner.

The coyote cookie jar howls when opened.

The coyote cookie jar howls when opened.

PESKY PIXIES – BE WARNED!

One of these days I’ll catch them in the act!

This is not the first time our house pixies have hidden my belongings.

My favorite necklace disappeared for two years, eventually reappearing at the bottom of Garry’s sock drawer. My favorite bracelet vanished, appearing a year later inside the piano bench. My binoculars left their shelf, materializing after some months in the back of the kitchen cupboard. Behind the oatmeal.

pixies-playing

Most recently a pair of elegant onyx earrings vanished for months until finally, I ordered a pair of replacements. When they arrived and I went to put them in my jewelry case, there were both earrings … right where I had looked hundreds of times. Darn pixies!

I consulted the wise woman in my life — my best friend. She agreed. Pesky pixies did it. There was no other possible explanation.

Pixies are not evil, but they are mischievous little pranksters. They sneak around at night and hide things in strange places. More to the point, they hide my things. I have been patient with them. Good-natured. I’ve kept my sense of humor through years of criminal pixie activity.

But now, they’ve gone too far. Today I went to get dressed and all my bras were gone. The stretchy sports bras I wear around the house under tee shirts are where they should be, but all the nice ones from Victoria’s Secret are gone. All of them. The white ones, the beige ones, the black ones. The expensive ones.

Even at my most paranoid, I do not believe anyone would steal my underwear.

more pixies

I went through every drawer of both my dressers. Even though we haven’t gone on a vacation in nearly a year (and I’ve worn them since then), I searched all my overnight bags. I also searched the shelf in my closet. Nothing.

The pixies are at it again.

We were on our way to a birthday party, so after an hour of futile searching, I finally gave up and wore whatever I could find that wouldn’t show  under my scoop neck blouse.

How come pixies never mess with Garry’s stuff? Although my necklace turned up in his sock drawer, don’t think that counts. Probably that’s why he doesn’t take me seriously. He laughs at me and says I shouldn’t worry. Everything will show up somewhere. Eventually. But it can be a long wait.

Pixies. Why can’t we have well-mannered helpful pixies who clean the house while we sleep? Like in story books.

Pixies, consider yourselves on notice! I will find you and make you return my underwear. Pesky pixies, I’m coming for you.

A LITTLE BIT OF SUGAR

Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me

I’m not a big sweet eater anymore. It has nothing to do with discipline or self-control. It just happened. Especially chocolate. I was a fanatic about chocolate, but these days, other flavors have more appeal.

I can’t eat a lot of sugar anyhow. My blood sugar and I made a deal. I lay off the heavy sugar fixes and it won’t make me sick. It’s pretty basic. I know if I eat more than a little of anything sugary, I will pay and I won’t like the terms. It’s enough to make me think twice.

dessert Island

I can eat a little, more in the morning. It sits better early (rather than late) in the day. I’m sure there’s a reason for that, but don’t know what it might be. In compensation, I spend an inordinate amount of time planning to bake. But I don’t. I also plan to buy sweeties but inevitably forget to put them in the cart. If I bake or buy, I eat and grow fat. Which brings me to the next issue.

I’m watching my weight. Mainly, I’m watching it rise. I know for a fact (popular diet mythology notwithstanding) plans and intentions don’t make one fat. You have to really eat the stuff. Sniffing it, being near it, looking at and longing for it — all free. Despite my best efforts, I’ve been putting on weight slowly but steadily for a few years, ever since the drugs I took following breast cancer killed my metabolism. After the surgery and the drugs, my body changed. I eat the same — same stuff, same amounts — as I did before. It kept me thin for a long time, but now, not.

96-OragnesHannaford_12

I made peace with my rounded self. I can’t eat much less. The injustice of it keeps hitting me. If I’m going to grow round anyhow, shouldn’t I get to have an orgiastic eating experience?

In lieu of other sweets, I eat fruit. With or without Splenda, depending on season and fruit. This time of year, the only good fruit we get is citrus. Grapefruit and oranges. I eat a lot of them. Fortunately, I love fruit. And vegetables.

My non-standard digestive system doesn’t like this stuff nearly as much as my mouth does, so I have to be careful. Moderation. I keep it down to two pieces of citrus and one order of veggies per day. That same picky system also doesn’t care much for carbs. It’s okay with modest quantities of rice and potatoes, is intolerant of pasta and bread. I can eat some. One slice of bread. A few forks of pasta. More gets dodgy.

Beverages? Nothing with sugar. Make me sick. Fast.

In self-defense, I’ve learned to enjoy a little bit of whatever I want. A tiny amount of jam on an English muffin. A dribble of syrup on a waffle. A half a cookie. A bite of cake. If I ate more, it wouldn’t taste better, right? And — I eat desserts ever so slowly. When everyone else has washed the dishes and gone off to watch TV or whatever, I’m still working my way through a dollop of pudding.

Our bodies are forever changing. This is Truth today, but who knows what it will be in a few weeks? Everything changes. If we aren’t dead, we are changing, metamorphosing into whatever we will be. I can handle it.

Well, I think I can. I am definitely going to try.

Pingbacks of the day:

  1. Not quite but almost “Limericky.” | thoughtsofrkh
  2. Addiction | Kate Murray
  3. Something To Remember & The Daily Prompt | The Jittery Goat
  4. Safest for Me | Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me | likereadingontrains
  5. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me. And Salt at Another Time. | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
  6. DP Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me | Sabethville
  7. Pour some sugar on me: Daily Prompt | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  8. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  9. Surprise pudding | Sue’s Trifles
  10. My Little Bag of Heaven! | B.Kaotic
  11. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me, 15.03.14 | Markie’s Daily Blog
  12. Blue Magic Can | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
  13. Innocence Insults My Intelligence | Bumblepuppies
  14. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me | trioldman
  15. #Making Donuts | It’s a wonderful F’N life
  16. A Greek Treat | Lifestyle | WANGSGARD
  17. Daily Prompt: Put Some Sugar On Me- Psychological Perspective of Disease | Journeyman
  18. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me | Awl and Scribe
  19. Daily Prompt: Being Sweet! | All Things Cute and Beautiful
  20. Pour Some Sugar on Me | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
  21. Pour Some Sugar on Me | Knowledge Addiction
  22. De-constructed Bounty… | Steve Says…
  23. AB + CC = D | mamangerie
  24. Here is to my mom’s honey buns sugaring it up in the grand old sky! « psychologistmimi
  25. An Ode to Frozen Yogurt | Never Stationary
  26. In Good Company | 4 The Sensitive
  27. Sweet, Sweet Sugar | Step Into My Head
  28. Saltine Cracker Bark | The Pinterested Parent
  29. sweet thing yummy yummy | eastelmhurst.a.go.go
  30. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me | My Extraordinary Everyday Life
  31. Food Food Food | Life Confusions
  32. Delivered By Ferry | Exploratorius
  33. The Sweetest Taste | Finale to an Entrance
  34. Pour Some Sugar on Me | dandelionsinwind
  35. Goodbye Sugar | Under the Monkey Tree
  36. Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar Over Me | CHRONICLES OF AN ANGLO SWISS
Gallery

AT HOME – INWARD AND INSIDE

Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside

Other Entries:

  1. Offspring in C3PO: Weekly Photo Challenge | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  2. WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | Milka Pejovic
  3. My.Vivid.Visions | Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside – Toy Fruits Sweets & Cakes
  4. Inside Blue | The Artist as Pilgrim
  5. WPC: Inside |
  6. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | Cardinal Guzman
  7. Inside Black | follow your nose
  8. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | A mom’s blog
  9. Weekly Photo Challenge – Inside | Chittle Chattle
  10. Inside | Rebecca Barray – Writer/Photographer
  11. Photoworld 14-3-14 | ~~~ nur ein “Klick” ~~~ ein Kompendium
  12. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | The Eclectic Eccentric Shopaholic
  13. Weekly Photo Challenge – Inside | Just Snaps
  14. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | This, that and the other thing
  15. Putting The i In Inside… | Steve Says…
  16. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | Ritva’s Art – Photography
  17. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | one hundred thousand beats per day
  18. Weekly photo challenge: Inside | Connie’s World
  19. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | Cee’s Photography
  20. Inside The Healing Pillar In Nara | The Urge To Wander
  21. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside – Pictures of Lily | Tim Wolverson – Photo Blog
  22. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | ILEANA PARTENIE
  23. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | stenoodie
  24. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | TinaBHH
  25. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | Lex on the go …
  26. Weekly Photo Challenge – Inside – I still have my uses |
  27. Weekly Photo Challenge – Inside « LargeSelf
  28. Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside | Wind Against Current

YOU MADE THAT YOURSELF?

When I was a young mommy working full-time and raising my son, I thought I should make my own clothing. It would save a lot of money. My mom made all my clothing when I was a child. She continued throughout her life to make her own outfits and they were gorgeous and classy.

Now that I was grown up with a job and a toddler, she occasionally — if I begged and pleaded — made something for me. Things I wanted but couldn’t find in the store, or afford if I found them.

I waxed nostalgic about the days when Mom made my clothes. I didn’t appreciate how beautifully everything fit. How special the outfits were until I was much older. When I was a kid, I wanted was to look like everyone else. Kids are dumb that way.

sewing susan

I spent my entire childhood watching my mother sew things on her magic Singer. How hard could it be? I picked up a second-hand sewing machine. Took a sewing class. Bought a few patterns. Acquired fabric, zippers, buttons, threads — all those little widgets and doodads sewing requires.

There were a lot more than I imagined possible. And I made some spiffy new outfits. I was thrilled at how much clothing I could make for a pittance, especially compared to buying it at Macy’s.

People stared at my clothing. Admiration, I figured. They must be impressed. I was right.

Long pause. “You made that yourself?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

It turns out that you have to set both sleeves the same way so one isn’t puffy and the other flat. There’s pattern matching too. Oh, and buttons, which are supposed to line up. Zippers are not supposed to stick out and be all bunchy. Also, they are supposed to close so it’s level when zipped.

Details, details. Hems? One length all around. Those pesky collars? Hated collars. They never came out right.

Even is a big word in sewing. Both sides of a garment should be as close to exactly the same as possible. Unless you are oddly shaped or making a costume for a party and intend to look weird.

I took a another course, this time in tailoring. It didn’t go as well as sewing had. You had to use padding and stuff that stiffens fabric. I was never patient enough to get it right.

I gave up making my own clothing and returned to holding my little plastic card and yelling “CHARGE!” as I went into the mall. The sewing machine grew dusty. It is still gathering dust in my dining room.

It’s all closed now. But not wasted. It’s a lovely spare table on which to display dolls. I collect dolls. And no, I do not make their clothing.

I do many things myself. I get up and out of bed by myself. I wash dishes. Write, edit, take pictures, process photos. Pass out treats to dogs. Manage our so-to-speak finances.

singer sewer 2

Take more pictures. Water plants. Maintain this blog.

That’s pretty good, isn’t it? All by myself I mean?

Oh, and I fix computers, install software and if you need anyone to explain how to use something? I’m your gal. Does anyone need an older, but barely used sewing machine?

Image

BEWARE OF DERANGED BOOKWORMS

Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm)

Write the blurb for the book jacket of the book you’d write, if only you had the time and inclination. Photographers, artists, poets: show us BOOKS.

I can do this. I have books. I wrote a book … and it has its own blurb! Wow! I can DO this, oh world! Just hold on, let me run and get the camera and I’ll take a few pictures. I’ll be right back. Don’t leave. I won’t be gone long …

(Time: 11:10 AM EST … tick tick tick …)

Okay, I’m back and it’s just 11:21 AM. I took pictures. A few more than I intended and gave the desperate canines another round of biscuits. I’d like to know which of you rotten little terriers peed on the kitchen floor! Too cold for your little paws? You know, that could affect your biscuit distribution if I ever catch you!

Now, please wait another few minutes while I take a look at the pictures and see which ones I want to use. Stay put. I’m just going to peek into Photoshop briefly … tick tick tick …

I’m nearly ready. Not quite, but pictures take time. It’s already 12:15 PM. I never seem to leave enough time to process photos. Anyway, I get hung up, frozen while trying to decide what to do with which pictures. I guess this is going to go up tomorrow, rather than right now, because it’s getting late and I’m not finished yet. Drat.

Tomorrow is another day. (Who said that?)(Just kidding. I know.)

You can tell a lot about people from the contents of their bookcases. I’m always shocked to go into a home and discover there are NO bookcases. I realize there are people who don’t read, but I still get upset. How can you not love books?

You can look at the pictures here and know a lot about both of us. We share many books … mysteries and histories … but branch off into specializations too. I’m into antiques, sci fi and fantasy. Garry is a film buff, a devotee of classic film — and baseball.

Between us, we never lack for something to talk about. Or, at least, I don’t!

More Entries:

  1. Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm) | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  2. Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm) | Basically Beyond Basic
  3. Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm) | Deelusions Photography
  4. In Search for a Bride | Flowers and Breezes
  5. The Old Testament for the Rest of Us! | meanderedwanderings
  6. A Pup’s Rescue Book… | Haiku By Ku
  7. For my books, a sanctuary in waiting | 365 days of defiance
  8. ‘Bed of Roses’ Synopsis | jigokucho
  9. Hoping | The Land Slide Photography
  10. The Almost Finished, Yet Unpublished, Ever Upward | Ever Upward
  11. Succulent Bookworm | Travel with Intent
  12. Number Seven Written in White. | Hope* the happy hugger
  13. Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm) | Sarah’s Typos
  14. S.L.A.P. Therapy…..(wp daily prompt) | Daily Observations
  15. Long-Leggety Blurbing: Daily Prompt | alienorajt
  16. Sharp Pencil | The Jittery Goat
  17. Malala’s books | Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm) | Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me

LUNCH IS MOOT IF YOU DRINK ENOUGH COFFEE

Weekly Writing Challenge: Lunch Posts

Lunch hour.

Hm. When is that, anyhow? I stopped working for good and all 6 years ago, so I get up when I get up. More accurately, when the phone rings. Or the dogs howl. Or I have to go to the bathroom. Sometimes, if I’m really lucky, I go back to sleep for a couple of hours, but usually, once I’m awake, I stay awake. This morning was a little different. Garry got up to take care of the early morning stuff and afterwards, went back to sleep.

I woke when he did, but was able to go back to sleep. For an hour. Until the dogs thought it was time to sing the Hallelujah Chorus in four-part harmony. Admirable, really. They eventually finished and I drifted into a near sleep, a twilight state where I’m not awake, yet am aware of things going on. I started a dream in which I was completely naked but no one seemed to care except me. I was trying to decide if having no nipples made being naked more or less important when the phone rang.

I scrambled to get the phone, but when I answered, there was no one on the line. The phone set the dogs off and they began another chorus, longer and louder than the earlier one. I lay there, listening. They’re pretty good, for dogs. They each seem to know their part, when to sing, when to wait for the cue. It’s perfect canine harmony. Then, miraculously, I fell asleep for another hour. When I next woke up, it was a bodily function in need of immediate attention. Ten-thirty. Good enough.

Got dressed, got out of bed. Ran a comb across my head.

And then I greeted the musical canines, turned on Mr. Coffee. Proffered biscuits, then more biscuits. Coffee was almost ready. Almost, not quite. So I put the dishes away, washed a cup or two and then coffee was ready and I poured myself a cup. Carried it to the office and sat down, here, in front of the monitor where I’ve been ever since. It’s 2:30 in the afternoon and I’m nursing my second (very large) cup of coffee. I have nibbled my way through half a protein bar. Nan, the Norwich, is snoring on the floor behind my chair. She’s a heavy sleeper these days. Her age is catching up with her.

Nan in my office

It’s a shiny gray day. Not raining, though it looks like it’s thinking about it. Am I eating lunch? Have I eaten? Is this protein bar lunch? Breakfast? Does it matter?

I called the doctor’s office, but they aren’t working today. Martin Luther King day is apparently a medical holiday. I want the results of last week’s EKG. I’ve been patient, now I want to know what’s going on. Do I need open heart surgery? Is it all a horrible misunderstanding?

Nan’s snoring is getting loud. I think her hearing is going because she sometimes doesn’t answer the supper call. Even though she’s getting on in years, she remains food driven. If she misses the call to supper, she didn’t hear it. She has episodes of dementia where she doesn’t seem to know where she is or who we are. She’s 11, almost 12 and so cute. And in good physical shape, except for minor back problems that come and go … but mentally, she’s slipping. Sad because she’s only been with us a little over a year and I would have liked a few more of her good years.

I eat another bite of protein bar. Is it lunchtime yet? This is my second post of the day. I think I’ll make pasta with meat sauce for dinner. I suppose I could go and get it started. Nah, not yet. An hour or so.

I think it’s officially after lunch now. Did I miss it or eat it?

Other Entries:

DAILY PROMPT: A COZY WAY TO LIVE

75-OfficeHDR-CR-2Daily Prompt: Style Icon

Style. My style.

The idea that I have a style would probably wring guffaws of hysterical laughter from most of the people who know me. I’m such an anarchist.

But wait … I see a common thread. It’s a slender thread, but it’s there.

I want to be comfortable. From head, including brain-space, to feet, which scream for cozy, my goal is to be comfortable and at ease. To which end everything in my home, from my bed to the reclining love seat, is without any style at all … except it is really soft, forgiving, back-friendly and comfy.

All my clothing is loose. My car is boxy, easy to get in and out. My desk is messy and we don’t even want to think about my closets! My cameras are lightweight.

I cook meals that are easy to eat and even easier to clean up after. All things added together, I guess it could be considered a style. Mine.

What do you think?

Related Posts:

A SERIOUS TALK WITH BONNIE

 I feel this is a perfect opportunity to air a grievance still fresh in my mind.

Although we are indulgent dog parents, we don’t sleep with dogs. They outnumber us two to one and the bed isn’t all that big.  Moreover, they hang with us on the loveseat in the living room and in the offices from morning till we toddle off to bed in the wee hours. The bed is ours. Ours alone. I refuse to feel guilty about it. Okay, a little guilty, but only a bit. We have enough trouble getting comfortable without trying to maneuver around you dogs.

Not to mention the dirt and fur that inevitably accompanies our beloved beasts. We have a gate across the hallway. We close it at night when we go to bed, confining our poor, oppressed pets to the living room, kitchen and of course the yard via the doggy door. For the 5 or 6 hours during which I try to catch some Zs, it’s No Dogs Allowed. You guys — yes, I mean you, my black-furred miscreant — know this is our time alone. You know perfectly well that when the gate is closed, it’s “give them a rest” time.

Bonnie - 8

Except last night, Bonnie, you didn’t feel like sleeping and proceeded to fling yourself at the gate. The whole house shook. I’m surprised you didn’t knock it right off its hinges. The howling and barking and yapping was bad enough, but this was like an earthquake. Totally uncool.

Bonnie, my beloved Scottish Terrier? Listen up. If you persist in flinging yourself at the gate through the night, it isn’t biscuits you’ll get. Just because you’re bored and think 3 am is a grand time for a romp and a treat, doesn’t mean we humans agree. You are going to wind up in a crate. Worse, I’ll take away your computer privileges. You won’t be able to use my laptop anymore. You know I can do it, darling Bonnie, so don’t test me. Last night, you were a wicked Scottie.

When you rousted me out of bed for that fourth and final time — was that just about 4 am?– you knew I wasn’t coming to give you a cookie. Because you ran out the doggy door and didn’t come back until I’d gone back to bed. How did you know I was mad at you? I didn’t say anything. The first three times you got your dad, then me up, you snagged a biscuit. That was supposed to shut you up. How did you know this wasn’t another goody on the way?

But you knew. You ran for the yard. Interesting. Was it the sound of steam coming out of my nose and ears? Or just the way I tread the floorboards?

Bonnie, my darling. You do that again, tonight — or any other night — and your spoiled rotten little life will be in serious peril. Do you understand? Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious. I’m mad at you!

DAILY PROMPT: PUTTING OUT THE FIRE

A bunch of us had gathered at Sandy’s house. She was a cook, aspiring to be a professional. When she invited us for a meal, it was good. Always a good feeding and delicious. We were her test subjects, never knowing what great idea she’d come up with. Whatever, we were happy to eat it.

On this day, Sandy was dressed — as always — in a floaty Indian blouse and long skirt. The blouse had angel-wing sleeves. Very pretty, if a bit inconvenient in the kitchen. All of us had been smoking a little hashish. We’d have been smoking pot, but it was hard to come by. Hashish was ubiquitous, available everywhere. All it really meant was we were building up a hearty appetite. It was our appetizer.

cropped-96-firepithp-011.jpg

“Hey,” I said. “Sandy! You are on fire.” Sure enough, the wings of her blouse passed smoldering — I’d missed that — and were now in flames.

“Oh,” said Sandy, flustered.

All the friends stood there like stuffed dummies, staring at the pretty fire. Morons, I mumbled. Then, I put out the fire. Cotton doesn’t flame up quickly and if one is attentive, it’s easy to douse. Sandy thanked me profusely for a commonplace thing I’d have done for anyone. What was more interesting was how the rest of the gang just stood there with their mouths open, apparently at a loss to know what to do. Not good in a crisis, I surmised.

“No one else tried to put out the fire,” said Sandy.

“Not a big deal,” I said, and it wasn’t. I still don’t understand why I was the only one who realized that “Sandy is on fire” should be followed by putting out the fire.

Sandy stopped wearing loose clothing in the kitchen and stopped inviting those friends for dinner. Shortly thereafter, following a misunderstanding with the local constabulary vis-à-vis the growing of certain plants on her balcony, she moved to San Francisco and opened a chain of take-out restaurants. I visited her there. She’s doing fine and no longer feels obliged to grow her own on the balcony.

In any case, it would be legal.

WHAT I BOUGHT ON BLACK FRIDAY

English: DC USA, Target, Black Friday

Honestly, I was in the mood to buy something. A camera, a lens, a widget, gadget, cool electronic toy. I was eager and ready. But wherever I looked, the stuff on sale was something I already own … or something I don’t need or want. I’ve already shopped for my family and close friends, so there are no gifts on my list to be bought.

So I looked. And looked. And looked again. Finally, I found exactly what I needed on Amazon — and snapped it up. Greenies tooth cleaning dog biscuits for small breeds. I was thrilled to find it on sale for 20% less than I usually pay.

That concluded my Black Friday shopping. Garry and I bundled up and went to enjoy the annual lighting of Heritage Museum and Gardens.

Today is the last day of NaBloPoMo. Thanks to all of you who came and visited. Congratulations to all of us who stuck it through and made it to the end. It has been an experience … and a lot of fun! See you next year!