My Favorite Alarm Clock

I am truly not a morning person. But who actually is? Who likes to here the beep-beep-beep of an alarm?  Who doesn’t push the snooze button a time or two? My husband! That’s who!

I like the wake up process to be slow and gentle. I don’t want to talk with anyone until all of the cobwebs have been removed from the gaps between the gray matter in my brain. Those sticky webs grab the back of my eyelids and draw them closed unless I have my favorite alarm clock.

What is my favorite alarm clock?

It’s not soft country music or the ‘Old Phone’ ringtone I have on my phone. It’s not the phone vibrating right off the nightstand.  It’s not even the corgi trying to lick my face. What is it?

There’s nothing better in the morning than my husband waking me up with a delicious cappuccino and a kiss on the forehead.

That's my favorite alarm clock!

The smell of the coffee and his kiss is what I look forward to every day. Why does he do it?

Which would you rather see in the morning?

How Far Should I Run?

Every so often I go on a run with my two friends who run marathons, bike 150 miles for Multiple Sclerosis and swim across Lake Washington. The logical question for the fair weather jogger is; “How far are we going?” Both are such good sports with their tagalong friend, stopping at corners to make sure I haven’t dropped dead.

When I ask myself how far I can run today, I usually listen to my inner plumbing. I’ll go as far as Betty bladder will let me. I have no intentions of taking a detour from the main path to find a tree where I can hide what my spandex cannot.

On a recent run, while waiting for the crossing light, one of the gals asked if I had head the nettles story. Nettles…stinging nettles?  One could only imagine.

There is nothing worse than coming home from a long run wishing you had identified the prickly assailant before you exposed your sensitive areas to the sticky hairs that itch like crazy.

How far do I run? To the next public restroom!

For an image and further information about stinging nettles go to

http://landscaping.about.com/od/weedsdiseases/ig/weed-plants/Stinging-Nettle-Photo.htm

Where Did I Park?

I love those big supermalls. For a lady who is always on the go, checking off items on the “Honey do” list (OK…“Honey NEEDS these shoes” list) satisfies that small part of my concrete sequential brain. Now the larger remaining portion of my brain is not only random but it’s getting older. I’m not quite ready to use the term, ‘senior moment ‘but I fear it will soon creep into the vernacular.

I was at our local supermall the other day with my friend picking up a few plants for the empty patio pots. We walked out of the store looking at each other wondering where we parked. We laughed at each other knowing this isn’t the first time this has happened to either of us. Both shared past happening while we searched for the car. I do have to say that my friend’s most recent mental mishap made me laugh and therefore needed to be shared.

There’s nothing worse than searching for your car in the rain for 20 minutes after which you realize that your car isn’t in the parking lot at Marshals because you came in at Sports Authority on the other side of the mall.

Where is that darn car?

For those of you who aren’t seniors yet; What is your favorite moment?

 

Osoyoos Cherries

Every year since our kids were little, we vacationed with dear friends from work. All of us are in education and have children about the same age. As the kids grew so did our vacations. A couple of years ago all 16 of us  decided to rent a house in Osoyoos, Canada, not far from the Northeastern border of Washington State.

The house was older, the rooms were small, but the location was great. We spent much of the time on the lake, walking the property, playing games like capture the flag and wolf and of course there was plenty of food!

Why then did I find it necessary to harvest baskets full of ripe cherries? They were deliciously inviting and abundant. I ate as many and I gathered in the baskets.

Too bad no one warned me about the cherries.

                       

There is nothing worse than slicing open a cherry to find little white larvae enjoying the cherries as much as I did… or I thought I did…

I continued to cut open cherries hoping that this one cherry was an anomaly only to find that every cherry I sliced open had the same creamy, white, legless maggots. “OH MY GOSH, how many did I ingest?”

Western Cherry fruit fly larvae

I ingested enough to consider how much alcohol just might kill these aliens before they started exiting my body to pupate!!

Risen indeed!

Going to church on Easter Sunday is so much easier with adult children. As I look around at all of the parishioners with toddlers I breathe a sigh of relief. Those were difficult but memorable times.  Keeping kids occupied for an hour isn’t easy but our new, and may I say young (looks like a high school senior), associate pastor did his best.

The children’s message started with a parade of children and their happy parents saying “Alleluia”.  At the end of the brief message, the surprise was revealed and all of the children received colorful helium balloons with the word Alleluia inscribed.

One of the fathers of a young child with a little one in tow gasped as he watched his child’s balloon to be the first to ‘Rise’ to the cathedral ceiling with the entire congregation watching.  His attempt to jump and retrieve the rising balloon failed, but not without cheers and laughter from the crowd. More balloons followed and the whole church was filled with laughter.

The young pastor picked up the microphone in an attempt to get us back on topic. I’m sure he was thinking ;
nothing worse than watching his children’s message rise to the ceiling as the more practiced members chatted about the merits of his naive attempt to deliver a fun and engaging lesson.

Mission accomplished! Nothing better than a visual message… He has risen, he has risen indeed!

As church filed out of the Sanctuary many of the balloons were in the hands of parents or tied to the cute baskets filled with toys and color crayons. I noticed one balloon out of reach in the bookshelves of our library and had to snap a shot.

What a great message. Well done Pastor!

Why did we get a dog?

It was difficult to decide which event I would post first. I chuckle every time I look at my notes.

This post could go either way. From my husband’s perspective it began with there is nothing worse than your new corgi puppy sitting on your lap throwing up her last meal, which happened to be her own poop!

I know puppy sometimes eat their own feces, maybe an evolutionary inherent trait to deceive predators, but this is a domesticated dog who gets good dog food and, on occasion, table scraps… disgusting!

My son and I and our favorite puppy Shira

From the perspective of me and the kids there was nothing better than the look on dad’s face as he said, “WHY did we get a dog?”