Posted on 10/20/2020 9:33:20 PM PDT by BenLurkin
Thanks!
You, and others see them as something different that I see them. To me, they are nothing more than therapy: Something to keep me from falling apart. I have no clue how many I’ve made and given away, then re-made because I missed it (them) then gave them away again, ad nauseum.
I’m glad our meeting is at 0900. I’m not sure what the schedule is in AR but I think it’s 0930 and 1130. I’ll be trying to go to the 0930 meeting as 1130 is pushing the envelope, even if I’m on a later schedule. Fatigue is fatigue. It’s often in the preparation to do something, rather in just doing it. The two together are not good for any length of time. Does that make any sense?
I realized on Friday that our bishop and his wife both lost their mothers in the last three months. His passed in late February and hers passed last weekend. How do I even greet them?
I need to go make the bed!
How about, “Good morning, I wish you a very blessed Sabbath,” or something of that nature.
That’s better than what I was thinking: Happy Mother’s Day, I’m sorry yours aren’t here to celebrate. Not.
Since CFIDS, simple acts of courtesy escape me far too frequently!
That’s a perfectly nice sentiment, but perhaps a little too direct for most audiences.
As we get older, it’s unavoidable that our parents will die. We can be sad, resigned, regretful, appreciative of their lives ... maybe grateful that their suffering is over, hopeful regarding our eternal life together.
It’s complicated ... and unavoidable.
And for the bishop’s wife, you could add, “I’m so sorry about your loss,” since it’s so recent.
As it happened...I just barely walked into the church and there was the bishop. I reached out to shake his hand and said, “I don’t know what to say, Bishop! Two such losses in such a short time. Please give your wife my condolences.” It was a bit longer conversation, but that was the gist of it. His parting remarks to me were, “My first funeral as a bishop (conducting) is Tuesday and it’s my mother-in-law.”
And I couldn’t figure out why I felt so rotten during Sacrament meeting. :o|
Everything went fine at this end. I’m thinking about lying down with a book for a while.
I’m watching the day get cloudier. Between the just general rotten feeling I had during Sacrament Meeting and the ugly stuff the weather is doing to my body, I left before the second meeting. I wanted to stay, but I was just in too much pain.
Sharon seems to think my pain is like hers and can be made to go away with ASA or something similar. She doesn’t understand that even on morphine, pain doesn’t go away for me. So when I left, I’m sure she thought it was because I just didn’t want to attend the meeting. unngh
You can’t help what other people think. I’m sorry you’re feeling cruddy now!
It’s clouding up here, too. I’m about to go upstairs and see if I got the one thing I wanted for Mother’s Day: for all the young persons to put their clean clothes away. (Assuming I would not, I ordered myself a book from Alibris.com. Thomas Sowell’s “Knowledge and Decisions”. It will come in a week or so.
I asked the other parent to give an opinion on whether the clothes were put away. On the floor in the vicinity of the dresser meets his definition of “away.” In future, I’ll remember that it’s not disobedience: it’s genetic.
Thanks! I keep thinking I’ll keep that stuff to myself because no one is really interested, and it just comes off as complaining. But there it is.
For whatever reason, I woke up and tossed and turned for over an hour before giving it up as a bad job.
I kept thinking about the move, and how to pull it all together the last two days, and I already know how to do that!
How hard is it to deliver something so simple as putting one’s clean clothes away? Evidently, pretty hard when genetics are involved. I hope your Mother’s Day was otherwise a happy one.
I think it’s good to have someone to whom to complain. It was interesting to learn that the clothes are literally invisible to others; that is why I asked. Now I know, and I’m over it.
Good morning! We had a thunderstorm about 1:00 a.m. I came downstairs to see if Jake wanted to come in (and if any windows were open), and found Pat lurking in the dark with his phone. Gnoofball.
Got any threes?
Kitteh found a box!
Good morning.
The laundry is mostly done. The bed needs to be made, but I think I’m going to take a nap on it before I put clean sheets on. The sleep shirts will be hung up next, so that they don’t need to be washed again before I can wear them.
I also have some errands to run. I’m going to drop off the electronics so they can go to Cell Phones For Soldiers, then to Walgreen’s for the morphine and then to the bank to see if I can live elsewhere and write checks, since it is a checking account. I think AmEx has outlived its usefulness.
Another wash day when I had an extra machine. I’m trying to get bedding washed before I pack it.
The Perfect Wife asked if she could “make a prediction” about the phone call I’ll make this week, saying that she thought I will have moved up another notch. Well, yes, I expect that to happen as well. And that will put me in the catbird seat!
Good morning. Happy Monday. I hope everyone had a good Mother’s Day.
Our oldest son, who hasn’t reached out to us in 14 years (except to send me a “thanks” once on LinkedIn) sent his mother a Happy Mother’s Day text telling her he still cared. We’re trying to decide if that was real or there’s another shoe to drop. Still, it made for a very nice Mother’s Day surprise.
Best wishes for a successful Monday to all. I’m glad your wife heard from your son, ArGee.
That was a nice surprise, ArGee! Maybe he’s met someone who has gotten him to think about his absense.
In any case, the one think I’ve learned with both my children is to never stop praying for them! First it was my son, then it was my daughter, and the rewards are obvious. But I never stopped praying!
There is a notice in the mail today from Lonoke County Housing...I don’t know if it’s THE letter, or A letter from the second choice. Oh happy day.
That’s pretty exciting. I hope it is THE letter and not just A letter.
Speaking of things, it turned out the bank didn’t snafu the mortgage payment. It was swiped from the mail, and someone tried to pass it as a personal withdrawal for several thousand dollars, but Wells Fargo didn’t fall for it.
Scribbling out the payee and the amount and putting in different ones didn’t fool them, who’da thunkit?
I mailed a new mortgage payment today, and it should get to them before the late-fee deadline.
Well, in my zeal to hitch my belongings to a U-Haul and head on out, I told Favorite Son and his Perfect Wife and I probably should have waited until it was actually in my hand. But if it’s not THE letter, it still might be OK — it depends on what FS says about the location of the place. He doesn’t want his Favorite Mom to be in a place that is full of ne’er-do-wells.
Wow. How could someone swipe the mortgage payment, unless they worked in the bank’s mail room...? What a dork! Like that’s never been done before... LOL! At least your money wasn’t lost, as in, “irreplaceable.”
I finally got the bed made but it took me forever for some reason. The errands didn’t get done, but tomorrow is another day, with any luck...!
So now, I’m watching for the mailman.
The Lawn Guy gave my front stoop “a lick and a promise,” when he took the blower to it to remove the debris. I’ll have to talk to Chuck about the mulberry suckers that grow 15’ overnight and are threatening to pull the shingles off. They’re also encroaching on the sidewalk so that in the dark (no security lights) it feels like a ghost is touching my cheek or hair.
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