Ugh! On this fifth day towards becoming 70, I woke up with another glaring owie. This time, it was my right knee shouting, “You overdid it, Palsy!”  A month ago, I joined a weekly yoga class that focuses oldsters on stretching, loosening up our joints, and building up our balance.  Probably all that bending I did at class on Tuesday would’ve been okay if I hadn’t done a bunch of bending yesterday clearing out the geraniums. Ouchy growl! Until this morning, I forgot that my poor swollen right knee, called Song, is still the bad knee. She  has done quite well keeping up with Sing, the left joint that was totally replaced last year, which was my gift for turning 69. Poor Song. Hopefully, I can find another compatible, trustworthy surgeon to fix her in 2024. Sing’s surgeon retired. He was amazing, even straightening my leg when he said he couldn’t.  The poor Husband. He kept running over to see why I was suddenly groaning, moaning, cursing, or growling so very loudly. Song did not like

My latest thing is to nurture succulent cuttings in glass containers filled with layered colored sand. Coloring sand is also a new thing I tried this year. It’s easy-peasy to do. Mix acrylic paint little by little with sand until you get the hue you want. 

The White Rabbit said he was late. What was he late for? The tea party? Curious minds, such as mine, want to know. Oh my. The Husband is doubl y smart. Initially I wrote "Curious minds, such as me, want to know." That seemed off. Should it be "such as I"?  Still didn't sound right, thus I asked the Husband. Neither appealed to him either. Ever the good grammar student back in the schooldays, the Husband asked, "Is it an object or a subject? My eyes crossed. "Read it again," he said. "Curious minds, such as me, want to know." "Mine." "Mind," I repeated. "Mine." "Mine?" "It's curious minds that want to know." My eyes uncrossed. I'm giving an example of a curious mind. Awwww. The Husband is a genius. Alas, he didn't know either what the important date was the White Rabbit needed to make.   HOPPING BACK TO INITIAL THOUGHT I brought up the White Rabbit

The shelled purse in the photo was the Mama's. Never was used. She had wrapped it carefully in plastic and kept it on her closet shelf. This was another item that didn't get sold in a garage sale two years ago. Ha! There was a reason for that, which showed itself today. The purse makes a cool planter for the Christmas cactus, don't you think?

Missy Molly plopped herself down in my path for her first morning purrrr! and petting. Pretty Molly. " Mew! Where do think you're going? I want breakfast." "I want to do this first," I said, opening the back door to the chilly morning. I leaned out the door, talked into the air, and watched for poofs of cold breath to float away. Nothing. "Good," I said, opening the door wider. Molly scurried to the south and I limped to the north with a bucket full of dumb cane. Dieffenbachia to some. A few weeks ago, I finally took the overgrown dumb cane out of its pot. Wowza, I tell you. The plant's thick tangled roots completely filled the medium-sized pot. Sorry guy. It is the sole descendant of the original plant that the Husband received as a gift in the mid-1970s. From this successor of a dieffenbachia, I pulled apart about a dozen more descendants. I also snapped pieces from two or three tall stalks to try growing more that way. With luck a