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Showing posts from January, 2016

My Birthday Wish List

Here comes another birthday.At my age birthdays zoom by faster than mile markers on an interstate.I’ve never been one to putter along at the speed limit, so before I know it, there’s another candle on the birthday cake.           Should you feel the need to wish me a happy birthday, here are a few do’s and don’ts.           One, do send cash or gift cards.  Any denomination will do.  I have a healthy respect for money, both my own and that of others, so any form of moolah is appreciated. Don’t waste your money on anything else, especially if it has to be dusted or worn.  I abhor dusting, so anything that requires display or upkeep is a no-no, likewise with clothes.  I do not wear pink, ruffles, or spandex.  I look ghastly in anything from the “autumn palette,” and should you buy anything in my correct size, I will be forced to deny you guessed it right.           I also suffer from lactose intolerance and cannot eat bananas or anything with brown sugar.  My IBS makes me less pleasant t…

I Hate Mountain Cedar

My son and future daughter-in-law invited us to go see some cabins up in the Texas hill country. The campsite had a rustic, little gazebo that overlooked the valley and a lake below. They thought it would make a romantic, scenic spot to exchange wedding vows.  We dressed nicely since we were going to meet her family for the first time, and we enjoyed the winding Sunday drive as we left behind San Antonio and approached the panorama of Canyon Lake.  “Juniper trees,” said my husband as he parked the car.  “The place is covered in mountain cedar.” I looked at a copse of trees.  They looked like Christmas firs, the kind one sees in cowboy movies or Little House on the Prairie.  A light breeze hit my face as I climbed out of the car. They did not look threatening at all but I knew my husband was allergic to mountain cedar. “Will you be all right?”  I asked. He nodded. HoneyBunch is one of the sturdiest men I know.  He is rarely sick. Few things affect him. Except for Mountain Cedar.  The f…

That One Holiday Relative No One Likes

You know who I am talking about: that one curmudgeon no one wants to sit next to at dinner or pick up at the air port or bunk with in the guest bedroom.  He (or she) never has a kind word, makes funny noises whether awake or asleep, and always wants his way. The weather is too wet or dry or cold or hot.  The traffic goes to fast or too slow and where is everyone going? Don’t they know HE alone owns the right of way and everyone should slow down and move over to the right shoulder while he parades by? The food never fits his diet, gives him gas, and tastes like slop. Everyone should wait on him, wait for him, or wait until he is finished speaking. No one else’s opinion matters, nor do their needs or feelings.  If one must have children, they should be kept quiet and in the other room.  If one must marry, it should be only for the convenience of a personal valet, shopper, and maid. Spouses and children are only good to fetch and carry. Why else would one want one? Employees are always a…