It Was A Jammies Day, Meant For Bookworms

Dear Diary,

We never got the predicted deep snow, but we did get the frigid temps.  And because we could, Zen-Den and I spent Sunday at home going nowhere.

He watched football on TV.

I read.

In fact, I finished one novel, The Alice Network, by Kate Quinn.

[I don’t do book reviews on this blog.  Instead I’ll tell you that I enjoyed this historical fiction novel because it had unique characters, a predictable but interesting plot, and explained the history of women spies during WWI, something I knew nothing about.]

Then I pulled out an Agatha Raisin mystery by M.C. Beaton because I wanted a lightweight British cozy mystery to while away the rest of the day.

As one does when one is me.

I admit I looked outside and contemplated walking into the screened-in porch to brush off the snow from the winter furniture, but that seemed like too. much. effort. for a woman in her jammies all day.

[Plus, that furniture is teak which is supposed to weather the elements so that it can develop a rich gray patina and show a little character.]  

And that, Dear Diary, is about all there is to say about Sunday instant.

I’m hoping that the temps will get up into the 20s today so I can comfortably go for a walk outside, but if not I’ll keep reading.

Up next in my TBR stack is Beartown by Fredrik Backman, so you know I’ll be enjoying the book in front of me.  Thus I say fear not, for I shall keep myself entertained while avoiding inclement weather.

Yours truly,

Ally Bean

In Which I Notice The Sky & Share My One Word Of The Year

What’s the word, hummingbird?

Well, if we’re talking about my favorite photo of late the word would be blue.  I took this while out for a walk in the park.  Such a clear day and look at that sky!

But I doubt that’s what you, my gentle readers, want to know about.

I suspect that you’re asking me about my #OneWord365 because you’re wondering if after choosing one word you might feel empowered to get your lazy backside into gear for the new year.

So you want to know my word in case it’s a good one and you can use it, too.  Which would be fine with me because mi palabra es tu palabra.

Thus, I share with you my word of 2019.  It is:

STREAMLINED

As in efficient.

Without turbulence. 

With ease of movement. 

Smooth-running.

Well organized. 

While I admit I’ve never known of anyone else to choose this word, as a free spirit with a Type B personality I think I’m onto something good here.

I can keep it simple whilst accomplishing things.

Just watch me do it this year.

• • •
how about you, my gentle readers, Do you have one word for the year?
If you do what is it? If you don’t, why not?
And more to the point, how are things working out for ‘ya so far in 2019?
• • •

A Cautionary Tale About Socks: One Woman’s Experience With KonMari

YOU MAY REMEMBER last fall I organized my section of our walk-in closet [discussed here].  What I didn’t tell you, my gentle readers, is that when I did that organization I adopted, sort of, the KonMari approach to tidying up said closet space.

Oh yes I did.

I’ll admit that I’ve never been 100% convinced her approach to organizing stuff is for me, but I’m open-minded so I gave it a go in our closet wherein I have a chest of drawers + a rod for hanging clothes + some shelves on which to put things.

Please note that in keeping with my experimental mindset I went full-out joy-sparking in that closet.

Uh huh.

SO LAST WEEKEND Zen-Den and I were going to dinner with friends at a nice restaurant in a swanky part of town.  I was wearing black pants, intending to wear a new pair of black leather + leopard print loafers with socks.

Black socks, obviously. Because winter is finally here and for the first time since last winter I needed to wear dark socks.

All was good in my uber-organized sock drawer, or so I thought, until I realized that during my Marie Kondo organizational purge last fall I’d saved 5 dark socks.

Five. Individual. Socks.

They are: 2 textured brown socks, 1 plain navy blue sock, 1 plain black sock, and 1 tone-on-tone patterned black sock.

APPARENTLY I GOT a little too joyful, and a trifle distracted, when I sorted through my dark socks last fall, giving the ones I didn’t want to the Salvation Army.

I think we can agree on that.

But be that as it may this situation created an interesting problem in the moment for which I had no immediate logical solution.  Thus I’ll share with you what turned out to be my four choices– and ask you to contemplate what you’d do in this situation.

My solution is in the comments below.

• • •

HERE IS THE SOCK CONUNDRUM I FACED

1) I could wear the matching brown socks that didn’t go with the black pants and cute black leather + leopard print loafers;  or

2) I could be an outlaw a la Agnes and wear many possible mismatched sock combinations;  or

3) I could go sockless on a cold winter’s night;  or

4) I could give up wearing my cute loafers and wear black boots instead, knowing no one would see my socks that way.

WHAT DO YOU THINK I DID? WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

• • •

Three Thoughts Thursday | Doing. Listening. Watching. + A Postscript

This is that thing, my gentle readers, when I tell you stuff and don’t make a story of it. Here we go.

• • •

ONE

I think that Creating My Dragon Name by following the how-to from pine.and.birch is the most perfectly silly thing I’ve done this month.

I am: Ylla the Tired, Hoarder of Toast and Potted Ferns.

To figure out your dragon name do this: it’s { your first name spelled backward } the { how you’re feeling now } hoarder of { the last thing you ate } and { an object to the right of where you’re sitting }.  That’s it, easy peasy mac and cheesy.

TWO

I think that Happy Face, a podcast, is worth listening to and will chill you to your bones.

It’s the story of serial killer Keith Jesperson, known as the Happy Face killer, told by his daughter, Melissa Moore.  She’s an adult now, but as a child she lived with/had contact with her father– while he was on his killing spree.  Her examination of what was going on then and its impact on her now is fascinating.

And horrifying.

THREE

I think that The Good Cop is quietly hilarious, but will admit that there’s not much to it.

It’s a light TV comedy that’s reminiscent of [but nowhere near as wonderful as] Monk or Psych.  The plots aren’t complex, but honestly, the chemistry between Tony Danza as the ex-con father and Josh Groban as the perfectionist cop, well– those two are a hoot to watch together.  Plus the supporting cast is great.

• • •

Questions of the Day

What’s your dragon name? Listen to any good podcasts lately? Do you admit to watching brain candy TV shows?  

• • •

P.S.  This will be my last blog post of 2018.  It’s been a heck of a weird year;  if you ask me, it’s one that has gone too long.  I’m sick of it.

Soooo I’m going to take a short blogging break by ending 2018 early and starting next year late, which is to say I’ll be back here sometime in mid-January 2019.  Until then, my gentle readers…

Be safe. Be happy. Be. 🐝

A Life Lesson: How To Look Scruffy In Three Simple Steps Then Get Over Your Sad Self

How ‘ya doing scruffy face?

Zen-Den said this to me as he was walking into the kitchen from the garage after getting home from work.  Because I had my back to him while standing at the stove cooking ye olde supper, he couldn’t see my face.

Domesticity, we got it.

Anyhoo, while you might think this is going to be a tale about another gushy nickname, he was being literal.  There was no Chickiedoodle cuteness involved in this salutation.

~ ~ 👀 ~ ~

You see, somehow, probably while out in the forest primeval behind the house doing the fall clean-up, I got a rash on my face.

And somehow, probably by using one of the aesthetician-approved fancy Vitamin C serums that are all the rage, I exacerbated the rash.

And somehow, probably by not backing down on my doctor-prescribed retinoid, I managed to destroy my face.  Well, not literally, but my face got all red and flaky and itchy and beyond not good– straight to ugly.

~ ~ 👀 ~ ~

So there I was cooking, not looking my best nor happy about it, still feeling a twinge of self-pity, when Mr. Hilaremoose wanders into the house.  And you know what?

His ridiculous way of saying “hello” to me, even before he saw my ratty face, cheered me up instantly.

Didn’t do a thing to reduce the inflammation, but made me realize how inconsequential it is to worry about that. which. just. happens.

Laugh it off, move along.

Make dinner.

My life.

Ain’t It A Pip? Growling About Holiday Shopping, Enjoying An Animated Puppy

I’VE BEEN RUNNING AROUND THIS WEEK, looking for stuff to buy.  Not really enjoying the process, but aware of the fact that if I don’t get out there now the stuff I want will be gone.

And don’t go all check online with me.  I do that first to decide what I might want, then I allow brick and mortar stores to dazzle me with their customer service and ravishing displays.

During the holiday shopping season I give ’em a chance to please me because I’m old school.

So far, except for Barnes & Noble + Pottery Barn, stores have disappointed me. To wit, if your sales staff refuses to answer questions about your product [looking directly at you Apple] OR if you’ve opened your doors for business but none of your registers are working [giving you the side eye Crate & Barrel] then I will walk out of your store, irritated, but more aware of how little I mean to you.

Do those stores care about my lost sale?  I guess not.  Was I politely clear about how disappointed I was with my shopping experience?  Oh yes.  Will I go back into the particular location that ticked me off?  Nope.

I don’t know whether I’ll try to buy online what I went into the stores to see and experience.  The jury is out on that.  But if I do buy anything it’ll be with reluctance because I feel more like a disposal pawn, than a happy returning customer.

🎄 

BUT MOVING ONTO A CHEERY TOPIC, focusing on goodness, bringing this post full circle home via clever wordplay, I give you, my gentle readers, the following short animated film about a cute puppy named Pip.

You’re going to like this.

Get out the hankies because you’re about to be overwhelmed with the opposite of shopping frustrations. Yep, this is delightfully sweet and will warm the cockles of your heart. As they say.

I don’t know anything about this organization [I’m not affiliated with it] but this little video made me smile and feel good about life during a time of year when everyone, myself included, is running hither and yon– perhaps forgetting about the spirit of service to others.

Just Curious: Tell Me, What’s Your Least Favorite Holiday?

This is a question I’ve pondered lately.  Everyone I know is quick to tell me about holidays they like, but rarely do I find myself in a conversation about a holiday someone does not like.

So I made this poll, basing my answers on my Judeo-Christian Middle Class American experiences.  I know that around the world there are lots of other holidays than the ones I listed here, so if your least favorite holiday is not on my list you may add it to the poll using the “other” category.

If you, my gentle readers, want to tell me why a particular holiday is your least favorite, the comments below are the place to do it.  Certainly everyone has one holiday that bugs them while everyone else around them is enjoying it.

Tell me about it!