Don’t you just love this? Not quite a train wreck, but a paint truck. And I wasn’t even involved. Just found the picture and loved the mix of colors. I think I would love to paint my walls like this though.
It’s Friday. Not really an important day for me. I’m retired. Every day is Friday. Or Saturday. Or even Monday. Sometimes I don’t even know what day of the week it is. I try to mark each day off on my calendar, but who looks at the calendar each day? And even if I look, if I’ve forgotten to mark the days off, I don’t remember how many days I’ve forgotten, so the point is moot. I do manage to remember Sunday though. That has been ingrained into my memory since I was a baby. A very cute baby, I might add.
I did remember something today. Look— it’s a cabbage! Now I can make the stuffed cabbage rolls! And when I got back from the grocery there were bags of these in the lobby The cukes. I already had the tomatoes. And in the bag, hiding from sight, more cherries. Hopefully I’ll remember the gloves when I pit them tonight. If not I’ll have those nasty stains again. Since the cukes are so large I’m not sure what they will become yet. Somewhere in my 20 foot pile of recipes I have one for stuffed cucumbers, but it will take me a few hours to go thru them all.
I may have exaggerated the 20 foot pile a bit. It’s probably more like 2 feet. But it will still take some time to go thru. I keep promising myself I’m going to organize them. Maybe put them into binders. Yeah, right. I’m sure that will happen any day now.
Speaking of any day, didn’t I say yesterday I was going to take a couple of days off? Something about catching up on my reading? Guess I forgot about that. Now I have more cherries, cukes, cabbage, summer sausage, and berries to take care of. Not to mention more watermelon pickles. I just flat-out love them. And today I found a recipe for making beet crackers that looks like fun. I think I’m hopeless.
Mike and Janette took me to mom’s today to deliver a couple of tomatoes. If her knees had cooperated I think she would have done a happy dance. She keeps telling me I should have surgery on mine now, before I’m too old for the anesthesia. I would consider it, but haven’t learned how to do it myself yet. I’ve developed a sort of revulsion against doctors and hospitals lately. Told the kids I plan on dying at home. Now there’s a nice mental picture for you.
Found this cutie somewhere too, so I decided to close with him. I kinda like his philosophy here. There are times when I would like to bark at night. Well, maybe not bark. Just howl at the moon. No particular reason why. It just sounds like fun. Why can a dog get away with that and not a person?