I entered 5 k's in the Google search box just now and this mathematical equation came up: k - k - k - k - k = -5.52259408 × 10 -23 m 2 kg s -2 K -1 Gulp.  I hope it refers to something full of kindliness. Best to think that way.  After all, an OK is a better thing than a KO (knock out). kind - kinder - kindest - kindly - kindness  = -5.52259408 × 10 -23 m 2 kg s -2 K -1 Giggle.  Keep on keeping on. Peace out. You got it. It's the letter K on ABC Wednesday . Click here to check out what bloggers around the world are writing about K.  Thanks, ABCW team!

Just kidding around. Just feeling like a kid again. Just who do you think you're kidding? Just a punk kid. What's just that, kid? Just a new kid on the block. Just saying, "Hi, Kid!" The kid just said, "Bleeeet." Just handle with kid gloves. Handle just with kid gloves. Handle with just kid gloves. Handle with kid gloves—just. What are ya? Just some kind of whiz kid? Just kidding aside. Yup. I drew a picture of just how I recall my small barefoot kid self. J is this week's letter for ABC Wednesday . Click here to read other J-themed posts by blogger from around the world.  Thank you, ABCW team!! P. S. Uhm, I thought this week was the letter K. Like how I just barely put the post back on the right track? 

What do the I 's have? I don't know. The idiom just came to me. So, let me go look it up. . . . Oh, it's not the I 's, but rather the ayes.  Now, that makes sense.  The ayes have it.  In other words, the majority of people who voted in favor of something won. Okey-dokey. Pondering and writing about that idiom interrupted my original intention for this post. The thought started the other night.  What came first: Ink or inkling? Did someone have an inkling and needed ink for her pen to write about it? Or, perhaps, hmmm, she spilled ink on herself because someone surprised her by whispering in her ear. She stood up quickly, saying with much irritation to that person, "Inkling!" She was too polite to swear, you see. This morning, while the Husband and I sat not impatiently in the doctor's office (simply a routine visit for the Husband), I wondered what came first: Imp or impossible? And, Id or idiot? Intriguing, aye? The inspiration for

The other day I decided to keep a daily Have-Done list. For awhile, that is. Until I no longer need to let myself know that I have accomplished something each day. Every day, I add things to my To-Do list. As you can see in the photo, the items don't always get done right away. Sometimes, not for weeks after I put them on the list. The Have-Done things, so far, were not on my To-Do list. That's okay. They were usually stuff: •  I would've distracted myself to do so I wouldn't do anything on the To-Do list. For instance, dig up a narrow piece of the front lawn to create a new home for a bunch of jade plants that no longer fit in their pots. •  I would've discovered I needed to do before I could do a To-do item, such as clean the freezer in order to start it up again. •  I needed to do that moment because they needed to get done then and there. We needed to pay that water bill, you know. •  I would've eventually put on my To-do list. That would'

I had a few G thoughts to write about for ABC Wednesday this week. Alas, the day comes, and those ideas are lifeless. So, for today, I give you a photo of construction guys. They're working merely feet from the highway. Their job is one that requires a lot of guts. To check out this week's ABCW participants, please click here .  

On the afternoon that the Mama died, the Husband, Long-time Friend Kathy, Molly the Cat, and I sat on the patio and ate our lunch. The Mama's apple tree and her butterfly bush gave us shade from the warm Spring sun. The sky was blue. The Mama's roses, daisies, and other flowers were in bloom. The birds serenaded us. The Mama's bedroom window faced the backyard. I like to think that she could see, smell, and hear the day as we did and that she enjoyed listening to our relaxed cadences and tones. At one point I leaned back in my chair and gazed at the sky. A crow was lazily flying back and forth. It was like a photo, the crow framed by the foliage of the Mama's trees and bushes. As I watched the bird, I felt like I could see the Mama's spirit flying up towards the crow and dancing alongside it. When I finally looked away, I saw a white butterfly fly out of the Mama's garden by the  rose bushes. That was the first white butterfly I saw that day, which, eve

"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