That moment when you recalculate a chocolate Christmas treat and discover it’s twice the “points” you thought it was…and you’ve already shot your big mouth off like some kind of nutritional/diet expert about it…and weigh-in is coming up in a matter of hours…
You know you’ve had a good New Year’s Eve if you look at your Weight Watcher’s tracker and all the boxes are already checked off for the coming week.
And lastly, you know you’ve had a good New Year’s Eve if you have a vague memory of a circus – but it’s not in town ’til next month.
Wishing you a very Happy 2017! May peace and joy come to you!
A week ago, when I called to tell her my sister was coming up from New York to visit and I might not be home and could she please let her in for me with the spare key, she said, “Of course. We’ll be home.” That’s just one thing I love about this neighbor. She is a lovely and generous human being. She makes incredible pies. And let me tell you, that woman is responsible. She does not lose keys. She has mine and I have hers.
But backing up – Two weeks ago, my realtor held an Open House here. I cleaned this place so it looked like a showroom. Then, I locked up all my personal information in case of wandering eyes or thieves who might walk through with ill intent. That’s how my mind works. Not “Oooo! The perfect buyer will be here today!” No, it’s more like “Credit card receipts? Check. Trash taken out and/or shredded? Check. Toothbrush locked up? Check.” I know. My mind is not well.
I cleaned and put away and cleaned some more and then checked all kitchen drawers to make sure they looked like everything was new, meaning all the rusty and gross utensils were hidden out of the way…and then I spied the key ring with my own spare key and my neighbor’s spare house key and said to myself, “Better hide those babies!” Complimenting myself on being so responsible, I hid them away in a terrific secret spot and said out loud to myself (yes, I also talk aloud to myself, and I’d like to say I’m a wonderful listener):
“I’ll put them here. I’ll remember this.”
The bad news is I can’t find them. Oh, they’re here. Somewhere.
The good news is I don’t have to worry about them falling into the wrong hands.
I do not have a green thumb. But due to circumstances beyond my control, I am left in charge of my plants, gardens, and a big piece of land. I have help, but because I have inherited my dad’s sense of, uh, economy (aka I’m cheap), I try to do some of it, in pieces, for myself. Mathematics would predict that taking care of it this way just doesn’t work.
I have two pots of purple flowers out front, one of which has turned into something of a crunchy breakfast cereal. I’m waiting for the day I see someone pouring milk on it. The other pot of flowers is closer to my door, so occasionally I notice it and water it. The rest of my yard is flourishing, and by that I mean that in less than two weeks, it has grown up like a tropical forest. It’s my personal “Little Shop of Horrors.” A stage set for Tarzan and Jane. Jack and his beanstalk have nothing on me. Particularly disturbing is a large once-vegetable garden that now is a combination of grass, weeds, and assorted vegetation. Last year, there were a couple of big, plump pumpkins in it by summer’s end.
Why not chop some of it down, you might wonder. Why indeed.
Well, I would, except I have no tools left. See, last summer I put my house on the market. It took a while to get everything tidied up and ready. I remember the day I started really getting into the idea of downsizing and decluttering. Get rid of the clutter, everyone said. You’ll feel so FREE!!!!! And I remember the day, soon after, when I thought it best to take it of the market for the colder months.
Here’s some advice: Think. Think twice, before you turn to your lovely grown child, who lives in another town in his own little home, and say, “You know what? Take all the tools, honey. Take the yard equipment. I won’t need any of it.” Oh – and also think twice before you pay to have someone load it, including all the large items, on a big truck to make it possible to deliver it to said grown child. sigh…
Um, yeah. That was when I thought the house would sell right away.
Weed whacker, anyone?
Spring has sprung here in Maine, if you ignore the snow, freezing rain, high winds, and freezing temperatures. I’ve never had a green thumb, but even I know that the budding annuals that started coming up last week are now regretting it. All over the state, plants are wishing they had “just said no.”
In direct contrast, for no particular reason other than having fun and a bunch of laughs, I draw your attention to some different and exciting book events, which you will see listed on the next page. Here’s how to get there: 1) Get your pointer finger ready, 2) Put down your chocolate bar (just temporarily), 3) click on the picture of “Not Even Dark Chocolate Can Fix This Mess” on the right side of this page (it’s pink, unless there’s chocolate smudged, in which case carefully wipe the computer off without losing any more chocolate), and 4) read all about it, and please share with friends, 5) resume snacking and so on.
On the road, promoting “Not Even Dark Chocolate Can Fix This Mess,” aka Long-Drive-From-Maine-To-North-Carolina-taken-in-Small-Bits-with-Visits-Coffee-Lunch-Family-Friends-Desserts-and-Now-I-Have-to-Pretend-I’m-Doing-Something-Productive-or-I-Just-Feel-Like-a-Slouch-which-may-be-True-But-Why-Advertise-It.
Here are your instructions: 1) feel sorry for me (no particular reason), 2) feel sorry for the state of the world (plenty of reason), 3) click on the picture of “Not Even…(you know the rest)…Fix This Mess” on the right side of this page. There you will find excerpts (I love spelling that word. Excerpts, excerpts, excerpts) and simple instructions for ordering or finding it at the book store.
Excerpts. Your turn.
Ready, set, um – click.
For anyone else who has chosen the road less traveled (enjoying Thanksgiving a little longer and then shopping “local”, at least a little local (locally?) because let’s face it, I’ll be online, too, pretty soon and every cell in my body wants to go to a shopping mall right now except my hunger for more home cooking and family time has won out and plus, I really hate being trampled in stores where everyone is trying to get into that nice, warm holiday spirit) – where was I? Oh, yeah. It seems a little weird to envision and even follow through on this concept, but here it is:
I am going to “shop local” as much as I can this season. I hope you will join me at a couple of events where I will be signing and personalizing copies of “Not Even Dark Chocolate Can Fix This Mess.” Click on the book cover to your right and it will take you to where and when the magic will happen (dark chocolate.) TTFN!
It is true that living the life of a nurse-turned-author can have its lonely moments: less interaction with boring supervisors, less time spent studying things called “mission statements” (oh, please), and less time figuring out how to get a piece of the free food that was dropped off in the staff room by a persistent drug rep. (I know – most hospitals have banned that practice now. Dammit, I miss those cookies. That’s what happens when something called ethics gets involved.) So, I have been filling in the blank time with meaningful mini-visits to places like chapels and ice cream shops. I would combine the two but some people are so picky about ice cream dripping onto the kneelers. Jeesh…
Speaking of prayer and treats, I refer you to “Not Even Dark Chocolate Can Fix This Mess” of which that sentiment may or may not be true but either way, I believe you need a good laugh and that is what you’ll find in this wild and ridiculous novel. You might even get two laughs. If you read carefully.
That’s it for now, peeps. Oh – except, look to the right – that little picture of the book cover – yeah – right there! Click on that to read a couple of excerpts. See if it speaks to you. If it does, then this computer stuff is way more powerful than I thought.
I am recalling those frigid Maine winter days in May when I promised myself 1) I would soon reinvest in my walking program and 2) that I would pay more attention to my food. I did those things. In fact, I did them both at once. I walked…to the restaurant. I walked…to the refrigerator. I walked…oh, you get it. BTW, did you know that if you are over a certain age (which I will not mention because it scares me) you are entitled to a free small sundae at that, um, “friendly” ice cream/food place out? My sister was visiting and we discovered it together. Several times. Yeah, you get the free dessert when you buy a sandwich or entree.
Maybe I could walk there. It’s only about eight miles…
Switching now – THANK YOU to everyone who is reading Not Even Dark Chocolate Can Fix This Mess. And to those who have posted reviews on Amazon, thank you!! If you are curious about this ridiculous and fun novel, click over on the right, at that cute picture of the book cover, to learn more. Go ahead. Don’t be shy. On the right…there it is…yeah, that’s it!
Shamelessly promoting “Not Even Dark Chocolate Can Fix This Mess.”
Indulge as needed. (See that cute book cover there – on right – there! Right there. Yes, the one with the chocolate bar and the coffee cup and stuff.) Click there FMI.