Twitter, Why Doth Thou Thwart Me So?

Alas and alack, I am saddened, dear Twitter, by thy inability to do what I want-eth you to do.  Did I not make-eth thee my friend and confidant, lo these many long months?

Yet thee insist-eth on thwarting my every move regarding my profile description. Thy refusal to do as I want-eth you to do regarding punctuation on said profile description bespeak-eth of your inclination to be with bug.  Here is what I desire-eth.

Yikes and away!  Whither thou go-eth my beloved punctuation?

Verily I beg of thee, thy social media giant, to put-eth back my punctuation where I want-eth it.  Not on the morrow, my liege, but on this very day.

Thanks be to thee, my provider of instant communication, for hearing the plea of thy humble user… BUT WAIT A MINUTE.  What. hath. thou. done. now?

Forsooth and anon, I shall look-eth upon thy service as something very optional in my life.  That is unless thy clean-eth up thy act and restore-eth my faith in thee, ye olde Twitter.  Only then, will-eth we be friends and confidants again, I say-eth unto thee on this fine day.

Because Some Things Never Cease To Amaze Me

On this date five years ago I posted the following.  It is the most viewed item that I ever wrote.  I’ve decided to re-post it today because I’m still amazed that something as benign as this little post brought the most readers to my blog EVER.  Go figure.

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03.29.07

Just How Lazy Am I?

 

The other morning I wanted scrambled eggs for breakfast.  But when I realized that: 1) we hadn’t run the dishwasher the night before because it wasn’t quite full enough to justify using it, and 2) the skillet I needed to use to make eggs wouldn’t fit in the remaining space in the dishwasher, I decided to have a bowl of cereal instead.

I knew for sure that the bowl [and spoon] would fit in the remaining space in the dishwasher so I went with the I’m-not-washing-any-dishes-in-the-sink breakfast option.  And I wondered to myself, just how lazy are you when you let the ease of cleanup dictate your food choices?

Pretty darned lazy, I’d say.

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In Which The Hubster Scares The Bejeezus Out Of Me, Not Once, But Twice

[Subtitled: What Comes Around Goes Around, Dear]

•  Zen-Den and I worked outside in the yard this weekend.  We also cleaned the screens and put them into 20+ windows.  Then we washed and repainted portions of the screened-in porch.  In between doing all that, we shopped for deck and patio furniture in brick-&-mortar stores and online.

We were busy, and I was exhausted by bedtime.  So exhausted, in fact, that after I got ready for bed and sat down on the edge of our bed, I forgot to lie down to go to sleep.  Really.  I just sat there.

So Zen-Den, who was already in bed, said real sweetly: “Don’t you want to lie down now?  You’ll sleep better.”

My addled brain liked that idea so I just leaned over, eyes shut, ready to plop myself down on my comfy pillow.  But Mr. Shenanigans pulled my pillow away from my side of the bed just as my weary self went thunk.  And suddenly, realizing that something was very wrong, I bounced right out of bed– wide awake.

And what do I see?  The Hubster holding my pillow and laughing his fool head off.  Because it was just. that. funny. to him to see me go from dead tired to live wire in a nanosecond.

Oh, yea!  He’s a card… must be from St. Louis…

•  I slept in this morning— didn’t even hear the alarm go off.  It’s no big deal because today my schedule is very flexible– I’ll get to where I need to go when I get there.  And all will be well with the world.

However, Z-D must have gotten up very early– and on his way out the door he must have put a load of laundry into the washing machine.  Then not wanting to wake me, he must have started the machine using its timer function.  Meaning that one hour later the washer automatically turned itself on.

Or at least I’m hoping that is what he did… because no one left me a note telling me to expect a very loud machine with a tendency to clunk to start. working. spontaneously. when I was sitting in the soothing early morning quiet sipping my coffee.

Which it turns out I don’t need to help me wake up when a loud unidentified sound comes from the laundry room– and causes my system to produce enough adrenaline to keep me alert for– oh, I don’t know— years.

Thanks, honey.  You’re a dork peach.

Notes To Myself, Part II

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I’ve been in a good place lately.

Seeing reality more clearly.  Feeling more deeply.

Understanding and trusting the process.

So it is no surprise that I came upon this poster by Emily P. Freeman.

{“When the student is ready, the teacher will come.”}

It is her how-to guide to making art that matters.  Art with a soul.

I like it as an artist’s manifesto– and as a guide for living an authentic life.

It expresses what I have come to believe.

That mediocrity and love cannot inhabit the same place.

The good place– where everything is just as it should be.

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