So last month’s first date ended with me and my date’s 20-year-old son talking him down from shooting a train (something I didn’t even want to do – I wanted to see if he’d actually shoot the train), and I confirmed, I want a man that will lead me. I don’t particularly *like* being the voice of reason in the relationship.
Seen in the “adult” section of my new Hobby Lobby:
I move Friday. Yesterday I went to my future townhouse to take measurements and all, but let me back up. Years ago, I was going through a transitional period and feeling lonely and worried. “Am I where I’m supposed to be?” you know. It was a bitter cold winter day and I was at work freezing my ass off. At that time I worked in an old drafty building for a small agency and everyone was out of the office for meetings. I was there all alone.
I decided to take a break from my work, go into another office with a big window, and daydream or pray or probably cry. Suddenly a bright red cardinal flew into the scene I was looking at. It was striking against the snow and the gray of the day. I don’t know why, but I took it as a sign. I guess it made me feel like there are always things that will fly into the picture to brighten it up – give it life – bring me joy.
Ever since, and I know this sounds crazy, whenever a bright red cardinal pops into my view it comforts me. I tell myself it’s “my” cardinal – my guide bird… telling me I’m in the right place and he hasn’t forgotten me.
So yesterday, I was checking out the view off my balcony of my future neighbors’ bird feeders… daydreaming or praying or probably crying…
when HE showed up!
Everything is going to be just fine.
Here’s one for the baby book: This morning I gave the 12th-grader her LAST WEEK’S LUNCH MONEY. EVER!!
Caller: May I speak with Linda?
Me: She’s at lunch but she’ll be back in about 25 minutes.
Caller: Well I’m in a different time zone… how long would that be for me?
… and also… how easy would it be for you to talk to Mr. Sandman without giggling? What about MR. PHART?!
Okay, my yard’s getting mowed as we speak (my lawn mower is broken). Ex-brother-in-law’s can be fantastic things.
He’s still working on the back…
Check out the trollop I stared at all through lunch on Sunday:
And yes, that’s a Badge of Courage the Mexican’s wearing from the Oz Museum.
My sister’s little boy is in a Kindergarten class with four Gabe’s and the teacher uses their last name’s initial to tell them apart. So my sister was taking my nephew to one of the Gabes’ houses for a birthday party recently and she said goodbye to her husband telling him, “We’re going to Gabe R’s!” And then wondered why he looked at her funny as she was leaving with their 5-year old. (Say it out loud).
That reminded me of something that happened when my kid was in Kindergarten. I had signed up to help at an all-school assembly and was told to check in with the president of the PTA (a woman named Gay). I got there, had no idea who I was looking for, but saw someone who looked to be in charge. “ARE YOU GAY?” I inquired.
And I’m pretty confident that is the weirdest-sounding thing I’ve hollered at another parent across a gymnasium in all the years up until her current, senior year.
I only wish this guy would’ve heard me…
A note on my drive home from work…
I noticed this on a dollar bill in my wallet: