The One About The Broken Bowls & The Price You Have To Pay

I broke 3 dessert bowls last week. It’s a personal best.

One bowl I placed in the dishwasher wrong and it got chipped.

Mea culpa.

The second bowl I dropped while taking it down from the cabinet shelf.  The bowl slipped out of my hand, falling to the floor where, with a sense of drama that reminded me of a 3 y.o. having a meltdown over the way his PB&J sammie was cut, the bowl circled around the floor eventually crashing into the bottom of a cabinet where it broke.

The third bowl, like the other ones, was bone china, a notoriously sturdy substance when not around me.  It was part of the now discontinued Lenox Poppies on Blue that was our china when we got hitched.  I liked fussier things back then.

This third bowl cracked, then melted/broke, while in the microwave.  I don’t know if there was a slight crack in it before I put it in there, but while it was twirling around in the microwave I heard a loud pop.

When I went to take the damaged bowl out of the microwave, unaware that the bowl was damaged, I grabbed it with my right hand and the ceramic was so hot that it burned the fingerprint off my index finger.

Only sort of kidding.

*ouch*

So here’s where I find myself today: I’m a wise, slightly klutzy, woman who realizes, and accepts, that I will probably live the rest of my life a few dessert bowls short of 8 formal dinner place settings, as one does when one is too cheap to replace the broken bowls.

$19.99 a piece? I don’t think so.

Ain’t gonna happen.

Trashapalooza: Living Large With Two Paper Shredders

Stop calling, we have a winner for the most boring Project ever.

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Welp, I’m back.

And living in a house that has not one, but two, electric paper shredders in it.

Try not to be jealous.

You see, last week when the ungodly hot and humid heat wave hit our region, I was in need of a project to keep me entertained + cool.  Zen-Den had the week off so he was wandering around the house, in need of something to do.

Hence it came to be that we decided to go into our unfinished, but cold, basement and start doing something we should have done years decades ago. Yes, we bravely opened the drawers in the many filing cabinets down there and sorted through the documents contained therein.

Meaning that we found: bills and checks and insurance documents and warranty information and furniture sales receipts dating back to the early ’90s and… in what was the biggest surprise to me… all of my late mother’s federal and state income tax filings going back to 1984.

[She’s been gone 22 years.  I was executrix of her estate.  I thought I’d destroyed all of her documents before we moved here in ’99, but obviously I had not.]

Anyhoo, in the process of going through all of these documents we decided to invest in a second shredder so that Zen-Den could sort through files while I shredded the paper, feeding both shredders simultaneously like a champ, to keep things moving along at a fast pace.

And to keep life interesting.

Or as interesting as it can be, under the circumstances, while sitting in a dusty basement being responsible adults, shredding our past, for hours on end.

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Question of the Day

What’s your most boring project ever? Did you put it off for decades? Were you compelled to do it because of lousy weather?

#ThursdayDoors | Looking At The Doors In Ms. Bean’s Blogging Sanctum

I hope that this is not going to be too exciting for you, my gentle readers.

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You see, today I’m joining Thursday Doors, hosted by Norm Frampton, so that I can share with you the following photos of my blogging sanctum– also known as our home study.

I admit that these door photos might not be exactly what Norm had in mind when he started this challenge, but I’m having a busy + weird week. Meaning that I’ve no time, nor the inclination, to write anything more than a few quips about a few photos.

Hence, with a hat tip to old-school blogging simplicity, I give you the following photos, two of which happen to be of doors.

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DOORS leading into the home study, as seen while standing in foyer.

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Given to me by a former boss, the sentence on this door-hanging pillow thingie has come to summarize my life’s purpose. She understood my strengths long before I did. I’ve no idea where she is now, but thank you.

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People who know me in real life will find this photo shocking. Here’s the top of my desk organized and almost clutter-free. Tidy, even. Look how everything you see has a place. Isn’t that odd lovely?

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Occasionally I have a burst of inspiration. This chair was loitering in the basement when it dawned on me that by dragging it upstairs & putting it in my blogging sanctum I could sit with my laptop in comfort. Oh happy days!

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DOORS on old bookcase filled with books plus a little more, as seen in the home study.

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Should you, my gentle readers, decide to share photos + details about your blogging sanctum on your blog, please let me [us] know. This could be a fun thing to do here in ye olde blogosphere.

The Little Sunflower That Won’t: A Lesson In Gardening & Aging Gracefully [I Suppose]

I’m not known for being the most patient gardener.

Zen-Den is aware of this.

He often warns new plants in the garden that they’d better get with it *pronto* or that they’ll be pulled out, tossed aside, and added to The List Of Plants That Make Ally Bean Snarl.

This little sunflower should be on that list by now, having been given 6 weeks [six weeks!] to show its inclination to grow tall– say, for instance, 4 feet tall as promised on its little garden nursery tag.

But no, this particular little sunflower, that looks a great deal more like a basic Black-eyed Susan than a fancy Sunfinity Sunflower, is blooming but not growing tall– the specific reason I put it where it is.

I’m flummoxed because I like the little yellow sunflower.

It’s pretty, but its lack of vertical spunk, as shown by its refusal to grow tall has left me in a quandary.  Usually by now I would’ve pulled the flower out of the garden line-up.

Adding it to The List Of Plants That Make Ally Bean Snarl.

However, I must be getting soft in my old age because I’ve allowed this little sunflower to stay where it is, deluded by the hope, sans evidence, that it’ll have a growth spurt.

Where is my snarl? Who have I become?

And more to the point, do I like this mellow iteration of Ally Bean the Gardener?  Have I *somehow* transformed into a patient Mother Earth sort of person, guiding the world to gardening goodness?

Or is this just another sign of the kind of indifference that suggests old age and decrepitude?  To a garden filled with overgrown or undergrown [a word?] plants and weeds, a garden untended because it’s too work-y to take care of it.

I dunno.

No answers here.  Just questions today.

Plodding Like A Turtle, Staycating Like A Bean

Turtle, name unknown, taking an afternoon constitutional around the terrace.

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I SAW THIS TURTLE FRIEND WALKING along the top of the stone wall that forms one side of our lower terrace.  

I was up on the deck and looked down on him, so I leisurely went inside the house to get my camera.

One fact about turtles, they cannot outrun me.

I went down the deck steps to get to his level, then snapped a few photos of him.  He made no attempt to hide from me, proving that I am the most benign creature on earth.

Can’t even scare a turtle.

Me.

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WE’LL BE ON STAYCATION NEXT WEEK, so instead of dithering away here I’ll be busy doing the Memorial Day things [plus a bit more] in the real world.

But most importantly, my gentle readers, what will you be doing while I’m not here? Hmmm?  This is what concerns me.

Thus might I suggest that you take this survey about blogging? Don’t let the word “older” stop you. It’s for anyone who keeps a blog.

So, you know, that would be you.

Right?

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A Beautiful Morning That Even Sailors & Shepherds Could Enjoy

Early yesterday morning our sky was a series of spectacular shades of red.

According to the old adage I should have taken warning, but I’m not a sailor or a shepherd so I went outside and photographed the sky.

Our skies here tend to be gray or blue. It’s rare for us to see anything this unique overhead, but I liked it.

It was something free to enjoy and remember– and you can’t get better than that.

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QUESTION OF THE DAY

What color is the sky in your world? You may answer literally or figuratively– your preference.

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The Tale Of The Nosy Robin + Reading Material For Your Edification

ONCE UPON A TIME the Lady of the House was minding her own bidness, standing in her kitchen pouring some granola into a bowl, when she was startled, almost out of her skin, by an obnoxious bird.

THIS BIRD, A ROBIN, made himself known by peering into the kitchen as if he wanted into the house.  Which wasn’t going to happen.

THE LADY OF THE HOUSE, in a Tippi Hedren moment, had a sudden horrifying flashback to The Birds, a creepy movie the Lady of the House saw at an impressionable age.

UPON REGAINING HER COMPOSURE the Lady of the House watched as the nosy robin stalked her, boldly staring at her and the bowl of granola that she was eating.

NOT WANTING TO RUFFLE any feathers the Lady of the House, a charitable woman, decided to give the nosy robin some granola.  Hence she bravely went outside onto her deck, and put a small handful of granola on the railing.

HOWEVER, THE UNGRATEFUL ROBIN flew away when the Lady of the House walked onto the deck, leaving the granola untouched.

WHILE YOU MIGHT THINK that’d be a good thing, it turns out that what the Lady of the House inadvertently did was chase the nosy robin to the front of the house where he dive-bombed the outside of the window in the foyer for hours.  The end.

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Learn More About Robins AND OTHER BIRDS

Birds Attacking Windows

How to Stop Birds Attacking Window Glass

Birds as Omens and Signs

Has The Mystery Behind Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds Been Solved?

When The Red Red Robin Comes Bob Bob Bobbin’ Along

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Happy Spring!

“Live, Love, Laugh and Be Happy”

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