"Make an effort." This morning I read that line in Emma: A Modern Retelling by Alexander McCall Smith). I felt like the character, and the author, was talking to me.   Please make an effort, Susie.  The Mama said it another way about herself when she felt tired, which was every day for her last several years. Plain and simple, she used to say, "I push myself." After we buried the Mama this past April, the Only and Older Brother said to me, "Keep on living." I scoffed at what the Only and Older Brother said. Of course, I'd keep on living. Why would I not? Lately, though, honesty keeps trying to surface. Drat that honesty. For that matter, dang to introspection, rumination, and heart-searching that show up in my dreams. Sigh. So, this is my effort today for the letter E for this week's ABC Wednesday : a story that I shared three years ago (April 5, 2013) about an amazing thing that reminded me of the wonderful effortlessness of life.

  Snort. Hahahahaha. I doubt that I'll ever not laugh when I look at this photo. Two years ago, the Husband and I were doing a self-guided greenhouse tour. I'd barely parked the car and turned off the engine when the Husband jumped out, saying, "Take a photo of me." "Be sure to get the sign," he said.  Hahahahahahaha.   The Husband let me enter the photo in the humor photo category at our county fair that year.  My caption was: "Deranged— U pon arriving at yet another tour, the husband became deranged."  Yup. I won a blue ribbon for it. My first ever.  I love the Husband! Time to hook up with  ABC Wednesday . Today is all about the letter D. Click here to join in and/or to read what other bloggers from around the world are posting today. 

The Mama used to tell me a story about the time that the Daddy carried me on his back while they picked tomatoes one summer day. I was maybe two years old. "You cried and cried," the Mama said. "You kept saying, 'Go home, Daddy. Go home.'" The poor Daddy! And, all those other poor workers around us who were forced to listen to a tiny, fat crybaby of a girl piggy-backing on her poor Daddy's back. The poor Daddy! How did the Parents ever get me to stop crying? Did the Daddy take the Mama and me home and go back to work? Did I eventually calm down, get off the Daddy's back, and find a way to entertain myself so the Parents could work in peace? I don't know. The Mama never told me what happened. She simply laughed after telling me. Why am I telling you the story? I don't know. I find myself tearful all of a sudden lately. C is for crybaby me. Not pitiful me though. C is the letter for this week's ABC Wednesday , a weekly meme that is keep