This neighborhood is much noisier that my last place. There is a Mexican family directly behind us who blasts the music of what sounds like a Mexican version of a German oompah band every weekend. Very heavy on the bass. I could swear it's a tuba but when I picture a Mexican band I'm sure there is no tuba player in the scene. Is there? Whatever it is creates the sort of thumping that feels like it could alter your heart beat. Rapp music does the same thing, which I guess is the point.
I'm trying to get ready to go to Alabama and not wait until the very last minute. I think this travel procrastination is a family trait. Jeanne says she's always traveling with still damp clothing. I go her one better, I have been known to bring laundry. The really sad thing is, I just know if Maryanne is doing a load of clothes when I get there, she'll ask me if there's anything I want to throw in.
Now, since I'm flying, I have to be careful of where I pack things; and how do you keep all your liquid stuff from exploding all over your suitcase anyway? Suitcase is one of those words I just grew up saying without really paying attention to what I was saying.
Suit-case. At one time I bet it was actually a case you put your suit in. Your only suit. Your marrying and burying suit. Along with your extra shirt (singular, not plural)
Like dial a phone number. Nobody actually dials a number anymore and kids who are growing up now never have. You punch? Tap? Key a number? One of my nieces was talking to a woman last week who said she was all tangled up in her phone cord. My niece had no idea what she was talking about. I guess maybe kids who've seen old TV shows or movies would know what a phone cord is but her family doesn't allow them to watch TV. Can you even get a corded phone anymore? Now that I think of it she should know about phone cords, I have an old dial phone that I've painted in brightly colored patterns that I'm pretty sure she's used. There is a sticker of the Wicked Witch of the West in the center where the phone number used to go. I could have gotten in trouble for those alterations back when that was the only kind of phone there was. The phone company, and there was only one, owned your phone. You rented it and you had to give it back when you moved. God, I'm old.
Well, I have a blog now but I'm not telling anyone. It's like wearing a skirt you made yourself. "Oh, Did you make that?" Yikes.
There are a bazillion blogs out there so it's unlikely that anyone will find mine, though I did have a woman come through who was making it her mission to go from blog to blog randomly leaving encouraging little messages at each one. Somehow, now that I have a blog it seems like a physical place. It also feels like Show and Tell. .......and this is my dog Bosco, and here's a painting I did, and a rock I found, and a postcard I like......... Maybe I'll go back and change the blog name to Show and Tell. I bet there are already at least 50 blogs named that. Now I know why website addresses are so strange. They've all been taken. Remember, you are unique. Just like everybody else.