Facing It

I’ve never peeked at  anyone’s Facebook page unless you count  the broadcasted excerpts of Levi Johnston, Bristol Palin’s boyfriend.  Believe me, I hadn’t gone looking!   Employers, reporters, police, and just plain nosy people mine them regularly these days, looking for dirt.    Wonder if there are any devious folks who set up sites pure of thought, word, and deed in order to possibly  enhance their employment opportunities?    As if life weren’t complicated enough already. . . !

In case anyone is wondering,  here are some of Marylee’s musings. . .

With our backyard offering hollies and nandinas laden with berries,  the roses sporting an impressive display of rosehips,  and the bird feeders full. . . why does one pesky bird keep trying to eat the artificial  berries on my backdoor wreath?

Why does our psycho cocker eat her food more than once, if you know what I mean? 

If one  accidentally breaks a 48″ round of tabletop glass in the garage and the shards go under one’s car, what is the formula for cleanup if  one  can’t move said car until the glass is cleared nor clear the glass until the car is moved?   (And no, we will not speak of how one came to break the glass in the first place.) 

Why is it that I have planted snapdragon seeds for years without having a single plant coming up and  the snapdragon plants  I put in my beds croak  in the summer heat, yet a snapdragon which sprouted in a crack between two bricks on our fence has been thriving for four years?

Is it really true that She Who Dies With the Most Fabric Wins?   If so, someone please remind Dearly Beloved to collect the prize for me posthumously.  If it isn’t, then why am I still saving fabric purchased 40 years ago?   Um. . . any takers? 

How would we be feeling now  if John McCain and Sarah Palin had won the election?

Does no one else  remember when the grocery store (ours was the A&P) smelled like tangerines, beginning in early December ?   THAT was the smell of Christmas to me.  Now,  the tangerines don’t even smell like tangerines. 

Why does Mother Nature think I need to sprout eyebrows of  toothbrush bristle texture even as my “normal” eyebrows thin?  What is ahead, evolutionarily speaking, Ma, for Andy Rooney and me? 

In a house with 8-ft. ceilings, why did the contractor choose to mount our smoke detector in the stairwell,  16 ft. up?    The burglar alarm technician suggests that I put a showercap over it when we’re broiling.   Oh sure, just give me a leg up so that I can balance on that narrow railing.

What happens to us that we used to start a project if we had ten extra minutes when we were 30, but now don’t go near one now if we have less than a half day to tackle it!  Is that why I am now sifting through five bins of unfinished and unstarted projects even as I amass fabrics and yarns to begin new ones? 

If you had to choose one, which of the tv commercial items would you select. . . a chia pet, the Snuggyy robe, or a clapper?

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