I went to my sister's last weekend for the express purpose of making yet more curtains. This time for my granddaughter.
I have bought my sister's Christmas present and she will buy mine early. We have the same taste in books. So we have gotten into the habit of buying each other books for Christmas that we both want to read. We buy them early, read them first and then give the book as a Christmas present. It does mean we have one less surprise for Christmas. But at our ages who needs surprises? We'd rather have something we want and will enjoy.
My bridge club enjoyed the field trip to my husband's cabin.
I will have two granddaughters in middle school this year. My granddaughters are getting grownie. At the same time my body is getting groanie.
It is my turn to have my ladies' bridge club again.
My sister called me last week. We both watch Jeopardy and had been surprised that Ken Jennings did not win the Battle of the Decades on Jeopardy. She also commented on the difficulty of the answers in that Jeopardy Tournament. I agreed. I usually can guess more of the questions than I did during that tournament. But, what she called to comment on was that none of the champions in a particular game rang in and knew the question for the answer "antecedent." That's a grammar question. An antecedent is the noun that a pronoun is taking the place ...
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I rarely, if ever, answer my home phone. That is not to say it doesn't ring. It rings a lot. However, I no longer have that Pavolvian response to respond immediately to its siren call. A response those of us of a certain age remember. And a response that many far younger than I am feel when their cell phones ring or beep indicating that a text message has arrive.
I have never been a multi-tasker. I like to finish one thing and then move on. And that might describe my style of driving.
Last Saturday I was dragooned into helping at Chimney Park during the Fairy Festival; it was serendipitous.
Spring in Covington is always a gorgeous sight. The dogwoods, other flowering trees and azaleas all put on quite a show.
A front page article in Sunday's Atlanta Journal-Constitution discussed the fate of former Atlanta School Superintendent Beverly Hall and her impending trial.
Some things will forever be a mystery to me. For instance, why do some recipes call for sweet butter (unsalted) and then tell you to add salt to the batter? I have run across many recipes that make that puzzling request.
I told you it took 16 hours to get those pesky columns in a scrapbook and in the right order. How much trouble, you may ask, is it to put tape on the pack of a newspaper clipping, attach it to a sheet of copy paper and slip it into a plastic sleeve?
This time of year, if you are driving outside the city limits, you will usually come across a wide swath of daffodils planted close to the road in front of what may once have been an old home.
This is my 135th column. I aim for about 700 words in each column. That comes to about 95,000 words. I didn't know I had that much to say.
My husband invited me down to his cabin last weekend to see his new additions. Well, he also wanted me to clean and loaded up the vacuum cleaner and various cleansers as well as me for the trip.
My bathtub arrived in the middle of January, two months after it was promised. I was given a date in January when it should arrive in a warehouse in Athens. At that point, I was assured, someone would call me and schedule a delivery.
I don't know what it is with us humans, but we always want more or think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.
I am one of those people who has to keep a calendar. I have to write down all my appointments or I forget. Not just the obligatory doctor and dentist appointments, but social ones as well: bridge dates, when I have to direct bridge for the duplicate club, hair appointments, and other minutiae of life.
I generally prefer winter to summer based on the theory that you can put more clothes on to get warm, but there is a limit to the clothes you can take off to get cool.
When I was growing up, my family always had a cat. I can't remember them all. And after I got married, my home followed that tradition. We always had a cat. But after nearly 50 years of marriage, I can't remember all of their names, either. Most, however, followed a literary tradition, from the first, "Milton," to the last to die, "Earnest" (from "The Importance of Being Ernest"). There were exceptions when my children or a grandchild named a cat. That would include my present cat Julianne, a stray who took up with us and who was named ...