Random Thoughts Not Worthy of an Entire Blog Post

My son is downsizing. When he moved away he took with him the contents of his refrigerator: 10 bottles of hot sauce. When he moved back a year and a half later, he brought with him the contents of his refrigerator: 6 bottles of hot sauce.

Lest I shall lose my mind over the fact that my back yard is all dirt and grass seed, I decided there is one tiny advantage (only one) to having your back yard torn up. You can shake the rug right out the door without having to step outside. The disadvantage is the need to sweep the floor every 30 seconds.

Just found my husband’s list for hunting in Colorado: reading glasses, long underwear, socks, beer, pop, ice, meat. Looks like all the essentials to me. Wish I could write lists that short.

Sister and I went out on the town this weekend. The walk- in-clinic, Kwik Trip for a cup of decaf coffee, and then home. Nothing like it used to be. Twenty years ago we could be found on a Friday night out on the town with friends, staying up into the wee hours of the morning and repeating the whole thing on Saturday night. Thanks for driving me, sis – and giving up your snoozing time on the sofa! P.S. I’m okay…nothing compared to the lady in the clinic who came in with a mask and sneezing!

Trying to get dressed for work and leave the house on time, I know now why Grandma wore a big string of beads around her neck. She could slip the necklace right over her head without trying to unhook a tiny, tiny, tiny gold clasp. I’ve now added a pair of glasses to my dresser also.

Back to my son – Mickey says most of her friends are sad that their older brothers and sisters have moved away to college. She told them “at least your older brother hasn’t moved back home!” Mainly, she doesn’t want to share the television with him now. And put up with his teasing. But he did let her drive his car on Sunday – just up Grandma’s driveway.

I’ve decided that when you get to be 49, it’s not a big deal what you wear to the class reunion. By this age, everyone’s either got too much gray, not enough gray, or too many love-handles (speaking for myself of course). Most importantly, no one cares anymore. It’s just good to see old friends!

Speaking of 49, I told my granddaughter Chrissy on my birthday last year that I’m not having any more birthday parties “I’m not going to get any older,” I stated to her matter-of-factly. She looked at me, the wheels turning in her head as she tried to create a vision of me getting younger instead of older and said, “well, Grandma, you’d better start eating healthy stuff then.”

Have a good weekend!