Here are some new people. I want to introduce, so you know what wonderful people you're writing to. Meet Kylie (KyKy), Katie (sometimes alias Anonymous), & Matty, a brand new member of the blog.I'll try to introduce a few a day. But in the meantime,
I want to fly to Europe to buy a hand-carved wooden Nativity scene. And while I'm there, Ill jot over to Brugge and buy real chocolate.
A couple of nice ward members dropped off things at my door, but because I don't want to talk to anyone, I didn't answer because I don't have to, since I'm over 60 now and can be a crotchety old lady whenever I want, which I've been anyway most of the time since 45. But...I wish they'd drop off something useful, ya know, like chocolate or food--instead of little tin things that say "The Best is yet to Come"; "Have a jolly Merry Christmas." I'm so ungrateful; I know--but I'd never do that to someone else.I mean they don't know me. What if my mother had just died, and they're handing me platitudes that say "Be O Thankful and Joooooooyful"? It's a dangerous practice. I promise all of you I will never send you any kind of a plaque with a platitude on it. Sigh, but they mean well.
I got this birthday card once and on the front was a guy all wrapped in sheets, tight, like a mummy, even his head was wrapped. Inside it said, "I know. I don't get it either, but Happy Birthday anyway." I fell over laughing. I'm a sick person, dark humor, not fun to be around unless I'm in Europe or New York or in the mountains, then even the chipmunks like me.
I want to walk way out onto the rocks into the sea on the coast of Ireland, where a Labrador came and caught all our sticks, but didn't return one. I really liked that dog.
I want to stay again in a convent where they rent rooms and serve fresh bread and OJ for breakfast, and the nuns can tell you exactly how to swerve your way downhill to St. Peters, because their Holy Man lives next door. I want to swirl around in the Musee D'Orsay (sp)and get lost again in the Louvre--for days this time. And I'd love to go back to Ephesus and Mary's cathedral, where it's tradition that Apostle John brought Mary to live--except you have to go through Turkey, which is one scary place for a woman, but even there, where the loud prayers wake you at 5am, I sat on a balcony at midnight and watched two men sitting at a table under a street light, playing chess. It was definitely a picture for Van Gogh to paint.
Or Dan, someday, maybe.
Speaking of Dan, did anyone see his and Kylie's shameless flirting on the blog earlier? Whew. I could hear Julie chuckling at them from far away. And they had Trav so confused, he'll probably never post again.
Trav, how can I add signatures to the posts? You've got administrative rights on here: can you do it? Don't anyone tell Katie or Crystal I was up past ten, though Crystal is still wide awake looking at the stars. I just know it.