It's Gold, It's Shiny!

     Oh, how I love that man of mine. The other day, he surprised me with something gold...and shiny. It was quite unexpected which made the gift all the more special. It's really something positive in a relationship when a man shares his heart and his pocketbook.

     I now have my very own, personal Lowe's card, and it's connected to HIS account! Lowe's has some really cool stuff. They should install a Starbuck's, though. I could get excited!

     Before I became too enamored with this surprise, I thought how my having a Lowe's card would make HIS life easier. I think my trips to Paragould to get my hair or nails done, to pick up a few things at Wal-Mart, or even to drop in at Belk's are compromised. When he's forgotten something or needs me to pick up materials, now I will be making another stop before going home.

After all, now I can pay with my very own Lowe's card.

Hoarder's Intervention Supports Education

            I’m a hoarder, but packing one-half of the living area has provided an intervention. Confession is good for the soul and urges the hoarder to free the desk drawers of their array, assortment, variety, plethora of ballpoint pens.

WOW!

I’ve been known to walk away with a pen I’m using if it has not been designed to scream, “I am not yours. Return me immediately.” The bottom of my purse contains a cache of missing pens.

           Today’s task included cleaning out the 4-drawer sewing chest I use as a side table. In the top drawer most of the pens were stashed. The next drawer contained sandwich baggies filled with labeled flash drives, some date to the time of floppy discs. To the side was another secret stash of writing utensils, including #2 pencils, sharpened.

            The third and fourth drawers held external hard drives, back-up drives for my computer and for the personal computer I had when living in Bartlett, an outside power source for my phone, and a few…pens.

Mrs. Renee accepts donation.

            I was astonished by the mass of pens I placed on the coffee table and showed the multi-colored, design extravaganza to Marvin when he got home. “You ought to take those to school…” What a great idea!

            The high school secretary received the phone call and gave the correct answer to win a large storage baggie of black and blue ink pens to be personally delivered to the office. She said the teachers would welcome them.

            “Johnny, why aren’t you doing your classwork/ writing your rough draft/ writing in your journal/ taking notes?” To that question, all students know the answer… “I left my book bag …in my locker/ on the bus/ at practice/ at home/ at my friend’s house/ in the cafeteria/…”

With the generous donation the school just received, “Here, Johnny. Use this pen and borrow some paper. Get to work!”

The treasure trove of pens lives on in furtherance of public education.

MEMORY, the game

For anyone who knows me well, you know I have a plan...and a schedule.

In keeping with my packing plan, today is scheduled for "keep working on the two back bedrooms and begin packing the Dining Room." Not going far at all when we move. Less than .5 mile. Still, ya gotta pack and organize.

Who remembers "Memory." Is that redundant? Not the song "Memory" from the musical Cats, but the children's matching game called "Memory." Played with face cards or specific game cards, the persons competing must remember where the "matching card" is located, despite the fact that all the cards are face down. Turned up one at a time, the person wonders, "Now, where did I see the mate to this card?" The players keep the sets and whoever collects the most pairs, wins.

Today, I was not playing "Memory." Until I uncovered a single knife with a bulbous shaped handle while going through Uncle George Ritchie's linen chest. It is engraved "Gordon." In script, of course. I don't remember seeing any other forks or spoons shaped as this knife, but I do remember seeing another knife, its mate, sometime, somewhere, today. Now, where did I see that other knife?

Ah, yes. It's in the bedroom where I keep all my needlework, sewing, crafting. I had taken down from the closet shelf the bags of yarn and a carrying case of Mother's that held her crochet needles, yarn, etc. The knife was in the case and I left it there. I rushed to the back room wondering if I had remembered correctly. I did!



I win the set of engraved, sterling silver knives, most likely belonging to my great-grandmother, Ella Jane Ritchie Gordon.

Early Voting with Jane

               Today, we had about 20 minutes before closing on the house we sold and on the house we bought. We decided to go across the street to the Clay County Court House and participate in early voting. Another gentleman was behind us to get credentials prepared. We were then directed to the room down the hall. A voter vacated his voting machine and I was able to step right in. Easy peasy.                     Everyone was in a cheerful mood and a good spirit filled the room. I felt comfortable enough to talk. As if I needed comfort to talk. Perhaps it was a hold-over from the 50th high school class reunion this past weekend...feeling free to entertain.
              After voting, I was given a "I voted" sticker with beautiful Old Glory waving within the circle. On a table, a whole stack of the circles and another stack of ovals twinkled in red, white, and blue beauty. Marvin finished voting a second later and the attendant said to him, "Be sure and pick up a sticker."

I said with a smile, "May we have two? Between us, we voted twice."
              The jovial man who was taking my voting machine position got tickled and said with laughter, "Now you're sounding like a Democrat - voting twice and all!"
              "Oh, no," I said. "I didn't mean that. Not at all. I shouldn't be joking around. I erase that...Delete...delete...delete."
              "Now, you really played your cards...delete? Really? Where's the sheriff? Arrest this woman!"
              Everybody, except the election official, was laughing.
              Marvin was backing out of the room, "Come on, Jane, don't get yourself in more hot water. I couldn't afford your bail."