What Are You Talking About?

Ahhhhh, this is really nice. It's 2:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, and I have the time to write. Of course, I have nothing to write about. All the time I'm running around like a chicken-with-its-head-off, blog ideas are fighting for mind space. I compose whole books, complete with chapter headings, while I'm frantically multi-tasking. I never write anything down because I am sans head. I'm considering one of those small, compact, itty-bitty personal recording devices so I'll never, ever, not-in-a-million-billion years forget anything again, that have been advertised all during the holiday season, but Christmas is over and I haven't seen the commercial in hours! I think my phone has a message feature (personal, not the voice mail, I'm not daft). It's actually the ONLY feature on my cell phone - my cell phone sucks - but I forget how to use it, and when I need it, I'm never near the manual to look up the instructions.

Nope, not a darn thing. The grandsons won't be over today, the wash is in the spin cycle, I've cleaned the pellet stove, run the vacuum, worked-out at the gym, and answered email....tap, tap, tap. I have a book, the paper, and a couple of magazines to read, so that's compelling. I could compose a couple of more email messages, and clean the TV screen. Hummmmm...

I'm trying to decide if I want to take my laptop with me to jury duty next week. I have books reserved at the library that I hope, hope, hope will be available. But, if I have my laptop I can write. "They" (the person(s) who write the instructions for jury duty) caution you about bringing a laptop or cell phone. They (the laptop/cellphone) cannot be taken into the court room and must remain in the jury room, and no one is responsible. Of course, it IS a courthouse, with guards and authority, but also a lot of criminals awaiting trials...so what to do, what to do?

Tall One sent me, via email, a very interesting (in a good way) scenario involving morality and proselytizing that I could respond to... if I felt like turning my mind inside out. Maybe I should just bury my head in the sand. That often works, until the gestapo arrives for the children.

I could turn on the TV. But, I think the only things on are "Oprah" and/or "Dr. Phil" and I am so not going there. I have some shows on the DVR, but that seems shameful in the afternoon. Except for Saturdays. Anything goes on a Saturday.

Yes! The washing machine just called me with its pleasant, but persistent chirping. I will go transfer wet clothing to the dryer and begin another wash load. Hang in here with me. Maybe inspiration will strike!

Uhmmmmm....ok, nothing. Daughter called, and while I was on the phone with her, I lit a candle - coconuts & lime - and thought of something I needed to do. It was on the important side. But, I got side-tracked with the candle and talking and now I can't for the life of me-or-those-I-hold-most-dear remember what it was I should take care of!

I just noticed the light is on in the bathroom upstairs. In order to be as "green" as possible I need to go and turn it off immediately. I feel much better now. Al Gore would be so proud in his gas hogging, electric sucking, multi-million dollar mansion. But, I'm not bitter, just relieved, that he's so knowledgeable. What was his graduate degree in again? Oh, that's right, he doesn't have one! In fact, in researching this blog entry, I can't find what Al Gore's undergraduate degree from Harvard was in. Anybody know? Not that it matters, really, I don't have any credentials. Just a huge ego, and too much time on my hands. But, then again, I didn't make a movie about my passion for moderate exercise combined with common-sense healthy eating. Even though I know a lot, can try and contact experts who would appear if I threw money at them, and can bull-shit pretty well if I have enough time to think and spell check.

Man! There goes that washing machine again. I'll be right back....

I got a little hungry so I made a snack of two Wheetabix biscuits, a banana and some 1% milk. I'm living my convictions. Not to mention how repulsed I will be if I gain one more ounce this holiday season, and there are still Christmas cookies laying around. Well, they aren't laying, actually, there are some arranged decoratively on a plate, and more in the freezer - not so decorative, but...fresher.

What are Wheetabix biscuits, you may wonder? Well, I first had them in Ireland. In the bed-and-breakfasts Tall One and I stayed in, we had a choice; a full Irish breakfast consisting of breakfast meat, breakfast meat, and a side of breakfast meat, or a small ala cart assortment of Wheetabix and milk, and in one B&B, a banana! I chose ala cart, breakfast meat troubles me. Wheetabix is England's (God-save-the-Queen) answer to shredded wheat, thus Ireland has it too. It's much better than shredded wheat, and I really enjoyed it, plus, it kept me regular. Why are you eating it now in the US of A, when you were in Ireland five years ago? Well, I'll tell you. We found a store in the city that sells British imports, "pip-pip", "I say", "jolly good"!

I'm finished. Time to check in on face-book. Priorities.