Fleetingly Carol

Did you ever wonder about people? I mean, did you ever wonder about how they could dress the way they dress in public? This past weekend really spiked my curiosity about that. A young man who stood about 6' 2" and weighed nearly 300 pounds if he weighed 50 sported a bald head except for the 12 inch blue spiked mohawk! And he had a girlfriend. Bless her heart. Another man swayed down the street swinging from side to side trying to take everything in with huge round eyes as he walked. But here's the funny part. His thinning dark hair was sticking out in all directions, he wore a shirt opened to the tucked in waist, and his shoes looked too long for his short stature. Oh, we can't leave the tra . . . er, ladies, out of the picture. Now I want to know how in the world an 80 year old, dark, wrinkled leathery woman can think of herself as attractive. I know this particular woman thought of herself as attractive, because her shirt, just like the man in the previous desc

Old Man got loose again this weekend. It wasn't my fault. Although, I did remind him to watch where he was going when walking through crowds and wash his hands when he was finished in the portalet. He likes the little reminders. We went to a street fair this weekend where Old Man had rented booth space so he could sell things men like to buy, like flags, and ballcaps, and knives. I went along so that Old Man wouldn't have to worry about the little things, like watching out for pedestrians while he's driving or figuring out how to display his wares. Even though I know he appreciates my efforts tremendously, he rearranged the flags because he's just like that. When everything was just as Old Man wanted it to be, he excused himself to use the portalet. He asked if I'd be alright by myself because he'd be 'gone awhile', and we all know what that means. I assured him I'd be alright and that was also when I reminded him about being careful walking thro

I had a moment today where I really wanted to crawl under the floor. Do you, Dear Reader, ever say something that you wish you could take back almost as the words are leaving your mouth? And there is no graceful way to recover. I went into work today feeling quite under the weather. My sinuses were so filled and stopped up, my head felt like it was twice its normal size, it hurt with every move I made, and my equilibrium was non-existent. When I am feeling like this, everyone around me knows it, I can't hide it. I should have stayed in bed, but I had an appointment at work with someone who drove some distance and stayed in a hotel room the night before. I couldn't just stay in bed. That would require another day's stay.  Hmmm, the couple was selling insurance that I wanted to know about . . . Perhaps, I should have stayed in bed! I went into work, sat down with this couple as they spread papers all over the table. Then they launched into their sales pitch and I began to

I was late for work today because I was reading a book. Now, you know I have written about my kind and considerate boss, who will not get too terribly upset if one of us is a teeny tiny bit late every so often. Well, because of this really engrossing book, I was a whole 2 hours late! No, no, I wasn't reading it this morning. My goodness, I can barely open my eyes before noon, much less read a thought provoking book. No, I read this book until 3 this morning, until my eyes were so bleary, I could not read another word. Because it was the wee hours of the morning and I was very tired, I forgot to set my alarm. And because I went to sleep so late, I slept unitl 8:30, way past time for me to be at work. I was really embarrassed. I have to say, though, that I can't wait to get back to The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People tonight.

Even at the tender age of 10, my son had a need for organization. I never had a problem with his room being uncluttered. Notice, dear Reader, I did not use the word 'clean' because this child didn't understand that dirt and dust was clutter, too, just of a smaller ilk. My son loved to arrange my cabinets. In fact, I believe it was he (although he has not claimed it even to this day) who alphabetized my spices and my canned goods. We once lived in an apartment that was well-appointed with all of the latest in European accroutrements. It was a small kitchen, but the storage was amazing! Everything had its place and it was easy to keep everything in its place, which pleased my son very much. Now, this child is not the only child I have and so, therefore, I have a very strict rule about yelling within the confines of our abode. I have watched otherwise sane adults go tottering down hallways after being summoned by a tiny disembodied voice. I decided in my pre-child days tha

Today was an awesome day! It started out when my oh, so nice boss (you remember, the one who doesn't care if we are late every once in a while?) let me off for the afternoon so I could go and visit Aunt Mildred. You see, I was so busy cleaning out my closets this weekend, that I didn't have time to visit. Oh, I can hear you now, dear Reader! Clean closets? Leave poor Aunt Mildred by herself while you clean closets? Well, hush, yes, that's exactly what I did! But, there were what you would call 'extenuating' circumstances. No one calls the cleaning done in the fall as 'Fall Cleaning' the way they call it 'Spring Cleaning'. But that's what I was doing. I was putting away summer clothes and bringing out the fall clothes, sweaters and things like that. And this was the only Saturday available. In my defense, I found a whole trash bag full of clothes that I was able to bring down to the Goodwill Store. It was a win win situation! Peering through A

Don't you just love technology? I mean, I can write this blog for anyone and everyone to read! It wasn't that long ago that to have someone read your words, you had to go through a publisher, which, by the way, is still the smartest way to do it. But blogs, social networks, tweets, and texting has made us all so much more connected with one another. But, I have to say, the new preferred way of communicating, texting, seems to be beyond my ability to master. Oh, don't get me wrong, I can do it, but I can't do it with finesse. Take the other day, for instance . . . I decided it would be nice to have breakfast at The Broke Yolk Grill, but Old Man was working and I didn't want to go by myself, so I texted a young friend who I thought might be awake early on a Saturday morning. But, I wasn't sure. That is the beauty of text messages. I could text a message to her. If she were awake, she would respond, if not, it wouldn't wake her. My texts, by necessity, mu