Tag Archives: Grandmother

I Don’t Want That…

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This week I’m taking care of two of my grandkids.  When I woke up the four-year-old in the morning, our conversation went like this.

I kissed her forehead and said, “Good Morning, Sweet Pea.”

She stretched and yawned,  then said.  “I don’t want that for breakfast.”

“I haven’t even told you what I’m cooking.”

“I know.  But I don’t want that.”

That’s how I’ve been feeling lately.  I don’t want that…I don’t even know what the “that” is that I don’t want.

In the morning, looking forward to some quiet time, I make my tea, pick up my journal and go to sit in an Adirondack chair surrounded by lush gardens.  But, that’s not what I want.

After breakfast, I go to my office to write.  As I’m driving, I’m working out a problem with my new novel.  I love this story but,  I can’t figure out how to describe the wings the main character is anxious to have removed so she can be like the rest of the teenagers.  Are they dragon wings?  Butterfly wings?  Bird Wings?  I don’t know and now…I don’t want to do that.

I’ve tried shopping therapy — I came home with hives from the stress.

I tried redecorating therapy — I haven’t finished, so now I have paint cans and brushes sitting around my house that have been there long enough, I actually had to dust them.

I even tried hair therapy, but you all know how that turned out..

I catch myself sighing every few minutes and now I’m afraid I’m turning into my Grandmother Nellie, who walked around expelling sighs loud enough to power half  the wind turbines in Kansas.

I heard a self-help guru recently who said if you change something in one part of your life, the part you want to change will happen, so when a friend of mine asked if I’d go with her to get training for a motorcycle license I said yes.  Unfortunately, that’s not until the fall.

Maybe the change I need right now is something that will help me lose those five extra pounds that are hanging around my middle.   I’ll stop at the store on the way home and buy something healthy to cook.

I climb in my car, and at the first red light I turn the opposite direction of the store because, sigh, even though I don’t know what I was going to cook, I know I don’t want that.

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Here’s my youngest grandson, dressed and ready to be admitted as the newest citizen of Crazie Town.  Care to join him?

Our new Fire Chief

Confession #131

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Confession #131: I’m an Office Hoarder

I’m an organizational freak.

Wait, that’s not the confession.  Well, at least not Confession #131.

Over the years I’ve been asked by dozens of people to help them pare down and organize their offices, I’ve just never done it for my own.

This weekend I decided it was time to paint my home office and when I was finished dragging everything out of the room, this is what I discovered.

Confession #131:  I’m think I’m an office hoarder.

“How did this happen?” I’ve heard those words so many times from the people I’ve helped and honestly, I always think “It happened because you keep too much crap. Duh!” But here I am in the same boat.

I’m loathe to get rid of a single thing.

Great Aunt Marjorie’s Clock

Here’s an antique clock my great aunt gave to me because I’d always admired it. Unfortunately right before she gave it to me, she had it “fixed” by taking out all it’s original nonworking parts and converting it to battery power. Even though it is worthless, whenever I look at it, it reminds me of Aunt Margie and what she did to make it better for me and it makes me smile.

Hoarding Healing Herbs

These are all my gardening books. They trace the evolution of my thumb from black to green and although I haven’t opened a single one of these books for years, I can’t possibly let them go.

Tourist Trap

I bought this on my visit to South Africa. It was sold as a “Traditional African Headdress” but I thought it looked like a beautiful flower. It’s huge and crazy pink, but how can I give it up?

Reminders

A picture of me in Paris. Postcards from our kids.  A picture of family at a brother’s Broadway opening.   Those I’ll keep for sure.

Gonna do this one day

Took a class one time to learn how to draw.  I’m absolutely terrible at it, but I might magically get better.  You never know when I’ll need these again.

Box O Books

This is just one of the many boxes of books that came out of my office.  Notice “The Art of Mingling.”  One of my daughters gave that to me to help me with all the dreaded Senate receptions.  Unfortunately, it didn’t’ work, but it might one day.  The little framed saying about butterflies is from my Mom’s house.  So tacky, but can’t let it go.

Webster’s Dictionary

I LOVE words.  I actually cried with  happiness when I received this as a gift.  And, even though I have a dictionary app that I use constantly, can’t let a great compilation of words disappear.

The Zen-ness of it all

My yoga mat that I use every morning right before my  half hour of meditation.  Okay, I don’t do either of those things – but as soon as my office gets painted and put back together, I will, I promise.

Poor Buddha – Bad Karama

I couldn’t think of how these guys found their way into my life.  But, then I remembered something from one of my blog post about my Grandmother Nellie.

There he is, next to the dog with the crazy eyes

It’s no secret, there is no love loss between my grandmother and me, so maybe it would be good Karma for me to let these little guys move on.

Whew.  I’m not like all those other hoarders.  I can let things go.

There – see?  I’m not Crazie after all.

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Know another Crazie person like me?  Send them this blog and maybe they’ll straighten up.