A Kick in the Pants

I got a kick in the pants from a friend and customer Thursday night. She snapped at me because she got snapped at. She apologized, but it was just what I needed to get to work. I got her order done in one day and sent it off today.
She ordered this onesie (which I had on hand), and a coordinating bib and burp set in purple. Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture of them before I sealed them up. :o( I'll have to get her to take some before she gives her gift.

Happy Annivery!

Today is my parents' 58th anniversary. Not only that, it's also the 60th anniversary of the day they met in a semi-blind date. Dad worked with my Aunt Rose, and she offered to see if her sister Louise would like to go to some function with him. They've never really looked back.

They've had 58 years of married life, 7 kids, 14 grandkids, and too many cars to remember --- and exactly 2 homes. They bought their first home while engaged, and moved in a few months after the wedding. After living there 9 years, they built another house, where we still live. Dad plans to die here, too. In comparison, my eldest sister has lived in Virginia, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Virginia, California, Virginia, and Colorado since she married a naval officer in 1974.

Considering that they're both over 80, their health is pretty good. They still drive, but the days of cross country road trips are over. We used to do a circle tour of the sisters who lived on the east coast, :o) but only one is left there now.

They gave us lots of advantages: 12 years of private school, cross country vacations (including taking 7 kids to Montreal for Expo '67), visits to museums, most college expenses for those who wanted to go, and much more. At least 2 of my sisters have said they've realized how lucky we were to have parents who did so much for us. We didn't get everything we wanted, but they made sure we got what we needed.

I don't say it often enough, but I love you, Mama and Daddy.

Why do I do this to myself?

Last weekend I managed to make it to 200 hearts and 25 sales, so I decided to offer a special deal (not a sale; if I ever try another sale one of my friends has promised to hit me over the head with a jewelry hammer). Anyway, I said that my next customer who put "200/25" in the note to seller could get 20% off one item and 25% off a second one if they purchased by midnight central time on April 20.

Silly me! I thought at least one person would be interested in saving money, but noooooooooo, I didn't have a single nibble. :o( I started at least 3 threads about it and my friends helped me keep them alive, but I had absolutely no luck. Again.

Next time I mention "sale" or "special", I need to have my mind examined. Then my friend can hit me with her hammer. :o)

It's all in my mind, it's all in my mind. . . . .

Tomorrow I have to have a fasting blood test --- 12 hours without food. Even though I had a nice hearty dinner, my stomach thinks it's going to die going another 11 hours with nothing but water and medicine. I keep telling myself, it's all in my mind, it's all in my mind . . . . . . . . .

I hate blood tests. Not the type you get when you've got an infection, no. Well, not really, as long as it's not a finger-prick (OUCH!), even though it's hard to find my veins. What I'm talking about is when you have to get a large vial (or 2) taken. 20+ years ago I was on a severely restricted diet plan, and I had to have a large vial taken once a month. I'm not too bad with blood coming out of a small wound, but seeing my blood in tubes in front of me is another matter. Even when I haven't gone without food for 12 hours, seeing the tubes makes me a bit woozy. I know, I know, it's all in my mind, it's all in my mind . . . . . . . . .

But it isn't.

And I'm hungry!

It's all in my mind, it's all in my mind. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Addendum: Since my blood test I've had two good meals, and I'm still hungry!

Death of a Mailman

Over the years we've been blessed with several good mailmen. In the 70s there was Bob Dewberry, a friend of my dad. Our dog used to greet him with a single bark to say "the mail's here!" In the 80s and early 90s we had Skip (I never knew his last name). He was getting older, so he transferred to a business route with less walking. For a few years we didn't have a regular carrier because no one wanted the route. We never knew when our mail would come.

In the late 90s Dennis Whiteside took our neighborhood. We met him when we had a complaint about mail being left when we were out of town despite requesting the mail to be held. He introduced himself, and said in future to leave him a note on the mailbox or find him on the route, and he'd make sure our mail was held. Dennis had a set routine --- one week he'd start at one end of the neighborhood, and the next he'd go the other way, just to break the monotony. If our mail came before noon on Monday, it would be that way all week. (When he was on vacation we never knew when the mail would come.)

Last year Dennis was diagnosed with prostate cancer and had to quit work. He planned to come back, but it spread to his legs. His daughter and grandson moved in to help with his care. In gratitude for his service, our neighborhood association collected money and bought restaurant gift cards for the family. They were very appreciative.

His replacement, Eric, has kept us updated on Dennis' condition. He seems to be as helpful as Dennis, not like some I've heard of who do as little as possible.

Thursday Dennis lost his fight with cancer. We'll never again see his friendly face as he crisscrosses the neighborhood. So here's to Bob, Skip, Dennis, and all the good postman who have passed to the great Sorting Office in the sky --- may they never be marked Return to Sender: Address Unknown.

Fanny Flamingo and other critters

Fanny Flamingo has flown the coop! She's making her way to Maryland to be one of the guests at a baby shower.

Speaking of birds, last year we had a crazy birdie (or possibly squirrel?). This critter decided that our mailbox was a great place to start a nest, or maybe get rid of last year's trash. Over a week or more we had to keep cleaning the dried leaves and twigs out of the box. One day we cleared junk out at least 3 times! --- when we put our letters out, when we checked the box, and when we actually got our mail. It didn't matter if the lid was down or not --- that crazy critter would poke stuff through the grille. LOL

Last week I went out to check the mail and lo and behold! it was half full of debris. I forgot to take a photo before I cleared it out. :o( So I've been checking frequently to see if the mad mailbox stuffer has returned to the scene of the crime, but so far no photo op. :o)

The Gods Must Be Crazy

I actually managed to log in to my blog from my computer! Previously I've had to post or edit from my dad's mac. Who knows how long this will last, though? I'm not counting on anything right now. LOL

Yesterday I finished two bibs for a friend on Etsy, and sent them off today.
Today I finished two pillowcases for a decorator in town. I make the cases, and she makes the pillows as a gift to the people whose nurseries she's done.

So far I've done them in six colors --- white, pink, yellow, blue, lavendar, and natural. I keep the design in my machine's memory so it's easy to call up. The hardest part is remembering the measurements when it's been a few months since the last one. :o)

I feel human again

This past week I've been a victim of severe intestinal distress. Suffice it to say that I'm sick of being stuck in the bathroom. I've gradually been able to eat more than crackers and sprite, and yesterday I actually went out to eat. Granted, I had something light, but it was real food. :o)

Yesterday we celebrated my mother's birthday. She turned 82 last week and is still doing pretty well. We went to Romano's Macaroni Grill, and I was NOT favorably impressed. The food was pretty good, WHEN it finally came, but the service was soooooooo slow. It's hard to understand because the restaurant was virtually empty and we didn't order anything fancy. My brother caught the waitress' eye to ask for some more water and had to wait at least 10 minutes before she bothered to come over.

Who came up with the fad of dipping bread in olive oil? I tried a couple bites, but all I could taste was the oil. And I don't like the taste of olive oil, no matter how good it's supposed to be for you or how it's flavored. To me, oil tastes like oil. And between the giant pepper mill and the economy size bottle of olive oil, there was hardly any room on the table for our food.

All in all, I think I'd rather go to Olive Garden any day.