Thank heaven, winter’s over. I thought it would never end. It dragged on for a whole week. But now everything’s back to normal. It’s raining again.
In the old days (before Christmas), if I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich, I just sliced the Tillamook, slapped it between two pieces of bread in a nonstick frying pan and held it down with a spatula or the back of a ruler, whichever I found first. Worked fine.
I hated to visit my grandmother’s house, Christmas or not. Even if you made it over the river and through the woods, you still had a three-mile trek straight uphill to Grandma’s rural Oregon home. There was no electricity or plumbing and there seemed to be a variety of living things like spiders and bats in the corners of the attic where I slept.
I love holidays. I always have. I celebrate the real holidays and the fake ones. I just bought a case of chunky peanut butter to celebrate National Peanut Butter Lovers Month in November. There can’t be enough holidays for me.
Let me tell you about The Great Jalapeno Pepper Showdown, a family legend with a Facebook twist.
‘The soccer gods went and stomped on my heart,” My No. 3 son wrote on his Facebook page after the U.S. team lost in the Women’s World Cup battle in soccer last July.
“This product comes with a 15-year warranty,” the garage door repair man told me as he clipped a crewcut of wires from the top of my new automatic door opener. “That means,” he said gleefully, clearly expecting me to be thrilled, “you’ll never need another one.”
There’ll be mosquitoes the size of pit bull puppies,” somebody grumbled, and after that there was no more talk about a North Woods camping trip.
The cat had an accident in my carry-on bag before I even had a chance to start packing. This is particularly disturbing because I don’t even own a cat. A young relative who insists on anonymity borrowed the case and explained as she fled out the door after returning it, “The cat had an accident but I cleaned it up, and you can hardly tell at all.”
he most beautiful flowers grew in the meadow where Old Man McConnell kept his bull. The only way into the meadow was to caterpillar crawl on your stomach under the barbed wire fence. This process rendered you socially unacceptable for the rest of the day, or until you next took a bath, whichever came first. Since we didn’t have running water, it was sometimes a really long time.
When the rear view mirror fell off of my car, I took it as a sign that I shouldn’t look backward so much (and also perhaps that I should look around for another car).
There’s a lot going on in February. We’ve survived Ground Hog’s Day but there’s still the Super Bowl parties, Presidents Day and, of course, Valentine’s Day, which can be surprisingly stressful.
I was trying to remove the brand new GPS navigator from the dashboard of my car while I went into church. I didn’t really expect that anyone at church would make off with my new prize, but I was trying to form the habit of removing it automatically when I left the car to prevent thefts.
Last Sunday morning, I received my very first speeding ticket, after maintaining a spotless driving record for 55 years. I’m really upset.
Thanksgiving dinners can be very tense. Even one marshmallow less in the candied sweet potatoes will bring howls of protest from diners who will then refuse the dish because they don’t like sweet potatoes. It’s very hard to change traditions as I learned the first year my family spent in Taiwan.
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