For the last two weeks I've been obsessed with doing jigsaw puzzles online. It simply happened. I entered a contest to win a copy of the upcoming Mary Russell–Sherlock Holmes mystery by Laurie R. King  that involved completing a jigsaw puzzle at Jigsawplanet.com . I had no idea I liked doing jigsaw puzzles. Before I knew it, I found myself going back to the website every few hours to do 32-piece, 60-piece, 99-piece, and 120-piece puzzles of landscapes, flowers, and street scenes. I told the Husband about the website. He-he . He's doing them, too. We talk about doing real puzzles, only that would require either clearing the kitchen table or bringing in a folding table into the living room. Problem with the latter is that would mean moving stuff around to make space for the table. Not going to happen. We could probably clear the kitchen table but then where are we going to eat. Before I frittered away the hours on doing online jigsaw puzzles, I was consumed with play

Yesterday afternoon, and into the night, I essentially did something like a cramming session. As is my wont, I waited to the last minute to complete documents to bring to the self-help legal center at the courthouse this morning. Monday is the only day the center is open for five hours. I made sure that the Husband and I got out of the house in time to get there at 8:00 a.m. because I was told that people begin lining up minutes before the door opens. Half a block away I could see parking spaces right next to the building. We were so in luck! The courthouse doors were still locked at 8:01 a.m. Peeking through the glass door, we saw no guards manning the security screening machines. Odd, right? I walked a bit further up and noticed through the windows that the shades were drawn at the counter where the court clerks ought to be. Eerie! "Is this a holiday?" I asked the Husband. "Is this the 19th?" he answered. "President's Day is the 19th." "Tha

It was only yesterday morning that I organized the crayon box according to their hues. There above in the photo is my proof. By the way, isn't he a cutie patootie, the Huband? The crayon box is one of the few things I've organized in the past few weeks. Maybe the only thing indoors. Tsk, tsk. Last night, I put the opened box of crayons on the couch beside me and whaddayaknow many of them tumbled out of the box and between the cushions. I was able to find almost all of them. Yeah, the crayon box is already out of sorts. Such is to be expected, and that's okay. The cool thing about this box of crayons is it's from the 1980s, maybe earlier. We found it in one of the Husband's parents' boxes, which we're slowly opening after nearly 14 years in storage.  I doubt I would've gone out and bought crayons otherwise. It's a holiday of gifts whenever we look inside the boxes. Joy, joy, joy!

The Husband is down with a virus so it was not a good rest for us last night. Cough, cough. Toss, turn. You know the drill. He'll be fine, we think positively. Leftover garlicky ginger chicken soup was turned into a pot of garlicky ginger tomato soup this morning, which shall be good for a couple of days before he tires of that kind of soup. He's already on his way to losing weight for the 20-pound loss goal we each set on Christmas day (our present to ourselves) by the end of May. So. Here we are, the end of the year. An outrageous year for our nation, leaderless. Executive actions and congressional duplicity turning us down the path of darkness rather than so-called greatness. I want to think that we've reached the bottom and it's only up now. A lot of us have no problem standing up against harassment, intimidation, lies, misconceptions, ignorance, and down-right bullying. The personal score: A hysterectomy took away the cancer no one was really sure was there. T

I have been randomly reading A Dictionary of Modern English Usage by H.W. Fowler that has been sitting on my reference bookshelf since 1994, when I purchased it new for a buck, but did not ever crack open until a few months ago. All these years I missed out on the amusing dry wit of Fowler, along with possibly learning when to use some words appropriately sooner. More than likely I bought this book because it was on a list of must-have reference books for writers. Who knows how many times I've thought about selling Fowler's book or donating it to a thrift shop.  I'm glad I didn't. This morning I read the entry for flurried , flustered , and fluttered . The word fluttered is usually used to describe a timid person who suddenly must deal with a crisis. Fowler did not seem to have much confidence with fluttered individuals. As for the word flustered , Fowler stated that a person so overwhelmed with multiple emotions she can't begin to express herself is best depic

Yesterday I celebrated my first day of being 64 years old. How did that happen? My body knows I'm old. Probably my brain does, too. I'm guessing all old people say that since I have no guidebook for getting older. Spiritually, I'm that five-year-old wandering in the fields surrounded by tall grass, wildflowers, butterflies, and sun bubbles. I'm also that young thing uncovering worlds and possibilities. I feel, again, a freedom to dream, to discover, and to do!

I woke up to a heavy fog cover this morning. If I didn't know better, I would've said no eclipse for us today. I kn e w better. About 15 minutes before the total eclipse, I put on my sunglasses, grabbed a stool, and went out to sit on the driveway. Molly the Cat followed me out the door but she swerved to the right to stare at the pine cone covered with spider web nudged in the fence. The Husband came out seconds later. "You aren't going to see anything." "Sure I will." He went back into the house only to return with a cup of coffee for me.  Such a guy! "Where are the cards?" I asked. He had pricked 3x5 cards for us to view the eclipse. "You're not going to see anything." "You don't know that." He sighed. Still, he went inside and fetched the cards. While he was gone, I looked up into the sky. It sure seemed like I could see the outline of the sun through the fog cover. For sure, the sky was ge

I don't think I'm there yet—a succulent crazy mama. I did go to a succulent and cactus show a couple months of ago. It was something to do. It was free. And, yeah, okay I did buy $30 worth of plants, which I finally planted in that ceramic planter above.  The purchases were the orange and red moon cactuses, that spiny looking tree, the cactus with the tiny white flowers on the right that's blending with the white rocks, and the succulent in the metal planter on the left. Maybe that little succulent in the center of the bowl. I can't recall. I also can't remember if I kept their name tags. Yesterday, I dug out the Mama's spindly looking aloe vera plants in the back yard. They were nesting next to the apricot tree and geraniums,  getting too much water and not enough sun.  I thought I would plant them today in a sunnier part of the backyard, but I felt too tired. Maybe tomorrow morning, I'll at least stick the largest plants into the ground, and a few

Come See the Strange Thing! Posters called out to the Husband and me once upon a time at the county fair. Only a Dollar! How could we resist? We walked up to the counter, plunked down our two bucks, and entered the tent. Pictures and articles were plastered on the wall. I didn't want to read. I wanted instant gratification. Where is the Strange Thing! ? Then. . . . Eeeeeeeeeeeew! On display was a shriveled up something that looked like a dried up armadillo. Yuck . The Strange Thing! was said to be a blood-sucking creature called a chupacabra. Was it real? Qué sera, sera? The Internet mostly says the chupacabra is an urban legend, but that doesn't keep the curious from conducting field research. Years later the Husband and I crack up whenever one of us brings up The Strange Thing! Have we learned our lesson? Will we plunk down hard-earned cash to see the next Strange Thing! at a county fair? Qué sera, sera? By the way, we have our own little strange th

Zetabetical. Cool word, huh? I learned it this morning in the novel I'm currently reading, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman.  Zetabetical. Google coughed up 39 results of the word, its earliest use in 2003. In the novel, the protagonist, Eleanor,  organized the tins on her kitchen shelf in zetabetical oder. Tins? The novel is set in Glasgow. Zetabetical. From the statement, I take the word to mean alphabetical in reverse order. You know, starting with Z. It wasn't easy for me going backwards, as you can tell in my picture. Giggle. Today marks the last day for the current ABC Wednesday team. Thank you Roger, Leslie, Joyce, Gattina, Di, Melody, Pheno, and Troy! Next week, a new round begins under Melody, the new ABCW administer, and her team at a new address . For the next ABCW round, I shall go through the alphabet writing about movies I've seen. Yup. I've almost forgot. Click here to check out more Z themed posts.

Note: I wrote this post yesterday from the iPad, then sent it to my computer by email. Perhaps one day I'll learn to cope and paste on iPad. Anyway, by evening, I was too pooped to get on the computer and publish this post. In the end, does it really matter if I had? :-) I'm taking a short writer's break from being a domestic goddess. Brief no doubt because I have been thinking about writing that first sentence for the last 10 minutes. Every so often that sentence repeated itself in my brain when I wasn't distracted by The Solid Gold Oldies music station on TV playing in the background and by the ambitious things I want to complete before dinner begging for mental attention. Sigh. I forgot. What was the intent of this post? Probably to brag about the things I have finally got to and then some. Should that be one word: then some, thensome? To my great surprise the Blenheim apricot tree gifted us—and the birdies—with many branches full of fruit. We can't eat the

Sweet peas. One of my favorite flowers. One of the first flowers I successfully grew as a kid. When I was a teenager, they let me grow sweet peas on the south side of the house. I can't recall though if I was a decent shepherd of sweet peas. You know, if I had watered them regularly without being told. I doubt they would've told me if I forgot. Knowing the parents, they would've given the sweet peas a drink if they were watering in the area. The parents were great. I like to think they were impressed that I actually took an interest  in growing stuff. I also planted Sweet Williams beneath a tree in the front yard, but they didn't do as well as the sweet peas. Sweet Peas. Sweet Williams. Yup. I was attracted to the names. This morning I collected sweet pea seed pods in the backyard. Their season went quickly. The sweetpeas in the picture are the last for this year. They're volunteers. I didn't even know there were sweet peas until I looked out the wind

It's past noon and I haven't done what I said I would do today. But, I did make apple scones for breakfast and went out to the front yard with Molly the Cat to deadhead daisies and pull some weeds. Now I'm writing about it all. All distractions from filling out income tax forms. Doing the taxes should take less than two hours. I already did a first pass last month to get an idea of the damage to our checkbook. So, no big deal, right? I'm listening to the Full Sail album by Loggins & Messina in hopes that it will get me into the mood. Yes, right after I imagine myself snorkeling in Hawaii.  Ah, such pretty fishes.  I'm linking up with All Seasons , a meme hosted by Jesh of Artworks from JeshStG. Click here to check out other participants.

Is a hole only round? Can't it be oval, triangular, hectagonal, or another shape? Must a hole be whole? A whole hole. Couldn't it be partial? Is a hole always black? Not green? Purple? Rainbow? If it's white, could we see it? Could a hole by holey? We just can't see the multiple holes in a hole. Finally, could there be such a thing as a holy, holey whole hole? Now that you've had your fill of holes, head over to ABC Wednesday , where I've parked my link. It's a fun weekly meme with wonderful bloggers from around the world. Thanks, ABCW team, for hosting the letter H. 

We've been having a wonderful winter of rain. The rainfall during the last couple of weeks has been like it used to be with flooding creeks, roads, and streets. It's possible the powers-that-be will say the drought is over in our area. Still, we shall need to continue to conserve water because our local population is growing due to the hundreds of houses being built. I seem to want to work out in the garden just at it starts raining. All that means is I go outside while it's just a light drizzle to deadhead flowers and snap off jade branches killed by the frost. Our front lawn has come back. With a vengeance, I think. The Husband says the grass is thick because he hasn't cut it. Not once since it started coming back. I'm fine with that. Actually, I'm curious to see how tall the grass can grow before I pull some out in a month or so when it's best to sprinkle pixie dust and wildflower seeds. I took the above photo yesterday. Below is how the lawn loo

Some mornings I wake up with a mission in my mind. Today, for example, the goal for the Husband and me is to bring down another bookcase to the living room from upstairs. Very easy, you say. Certainly. As long as I keep us on task, which means not getting distracted by something else. I have a not-so-committed goal to make something out of cabbage and ground turkey. Maybe make a non-stuffed cabbage casserole. Stuffing cabbage sounds too time-consuming. I know: What else do I have to do? Well, bring down the bookcase and all the books in that bookcase. I'd also like to go outside and prune the apricot tree while it's still cold. And, maybe one or two of the scraggly rose bushes. It's nearly 11:35 a.m. See what I mean about getting distracted. No? Well, I just wrote this post.

Rrrrrrrr-umble. . .BANG! Thunder! I didn't see it, but I did hear the thunderstorm sometime after midnight. I was quite happy not to see the flashes. FLASH! It has been raining. Glorious, glorious rain. And, if the weather guys are correct, it will continue to rain until Thursday. Knock on wood. During a not-raining lull this morning, Molly the Cat and I ventured into the backyard to see how things are holding up. Our raggedy back fence heartily stood up to yesterday's wind. Whhhheeeeeeeewwwwwh. . . Molly was busy sniffing out what she probably hoped would be wild animals while I shot photos. We are so different from the Mama who would've swept as many leaves as she could before she decided it was too muddy and cold to be outside. By the way, did you find Molly among all that green stuff? In the photo up there, that is. Yes, the path was once clear and free of leaves.  :-) And, look, here. A rosebud! The Mama's spirit continues to shine in her rose bus

"What got into you?" asked the Husband, looking across the table as I cracked walnuts. "The bananas got browner just like you said would happen," I answered. We bought the bunch of organic bananas yesterday afternoon. I only wanted three bananas, but when I saw that the bananas were a bunch for a dollar, I couldn't bring myself to buy three bananas when I could purchase eight for the same price. Would you? I don't remember if I fully answered the Husband's question. I recall that he went back to checking out Facebook so I must've said that I want the walnuts for making banana bread. Now I think I'll bake scones. Easier. Then I'll freeze the rest of the bananas. I found out I don't even need to peel, slice, or stick them in freezer bags. And when I want to use one or two for baking or smoothies, I simply microwave the bananas for a minute or two. Voila! It's been a good new year so far. I've been very productive, too. Alon

So begins a new adventure around the sun for me. Here I gooooooooooooooooooooooooo. . .