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Saturday, September 20

Purple hats

Those of you who know me, know that I don't believe in "God," but I do believe in a common energy that holds us together as a family.

Claire sent this to me and I record this here in hopes that we will all meet one day in our purple hats.

In honor of women's history month and in memory of Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer.


IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck
(written after she found out she was dying from cancer).

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's." More "I'm sorry's."

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it .. live it .and never give it back. Stop sweating the small stuff.

Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.

Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.

Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with. And what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally, physically, emotionally. I hope you all have a blessed day.

Beautiful Women's Month

Age 3: She looks at herself and sees a Queen.

Age 8: She looks at herself and sees Cinderella.

Age 15: She looks at herself and sees an Ugly Sister (Mum I can't go to school looking like this!)

Age 20: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too
short/too tall, too straight/too curly"- but decides she's going out anyway.

Age 30: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too
short/too tall, too straight/too curly" - but decides she doesn't have time to fix it, so she's going out anyway.

Age 40: She looks at herself and sees "clean" and goes out anyway.

Age 50: She looks at herself and sees "I am" and goes wherever she wants to go.

Age 60: She looks at herself and reminds herself of all the people who can't even see themselves in the mirror anymore. Goes out and conquers the world.

Age 70: She looks at herself &sees wisdom, laughter and ability, goes out and enjoys life.

Age 80: Doesn't bother to look. Just puts on a purple hat and goes out to have fun with the world.


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Friday, September 19

Oh, great....

I've got a pimple in the bowl part of my right ear.

Will this ever end!

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Hmmmm

I think I might have really lost my mind this time.

I was seeing if the sheets in the dryer were dry. As I touched them and muttered, "I think you're done." Then, I was ridiculing the sheets.

"That's right, I said 'you're done,' so you're done. Don't start up with me! I own you!"

Now, admittedly, these are red, jersey sheets so they do have a bit more fight in them than say a regular cotton sheet, no matter the thread count, but they didn't deserve this.

"In fact," I continued, in my tirade, "I'm going to put you right back on the bed. That's right! No shelf time for talk back sheets! Maybe the next time you'll think before you start flappin' your seams at me!"

I did this the entire time I remade the bed.

This is not the first time I've had "issues" with my laundry. The last time it was my socks, (I forget what the problem was, but they know what they did,) I was on the phone with Di. She listened to me rant and rave (or maybe it was just a car alarm, aha that's for you, Di) for a couple of minutes and then she said, in a big scary voice, "Take that, former Dukes of my feet!"

Yeah, she rocks.

But I'm insane, so take that as you will.

I'm off to punch out the sofa. Wish me luck!

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So much suck

It's been a bad week.

I think I was badly depressed about Bunny's death. I can see that I was not myself; I didn't shower or brush my teeth for 4 days. I'm putting together a site for a comic friend, Joe Klocek, so I was able to lose myself in that. It's a good thing I had it, I don't know how I would have distacted myself if it hadn't been there.

I'll post a link as soon as it's ready for human consumption. Joe and I were supposed to meet on Thursday but he got sick and had to reschedule. It was for the best, I don't think I would have made a very good impression as a webmistress if I had started laughing, then crying, then singing, and finally curling up in a ball moaning softly.

How was your week?

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Monday, September 15

I put this in the comment field under yesterday's post, but I thought I'd do this too, just in case someone who cared didn't read the comment.

Bunny's funeral is Tuesday, Sept. 16 at 10am EST. If you are of the mind to do so, please send her prayers and thoughts of encourgement as she enters this new rhelm of her journey.

Knowing Bunny, she'll have fun with it.

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Sunday, September 14

Yesterday my best friend's mother turned 83 and died. I know that should be a joke, but it's not. T's mom was a hoot; the first time I spent the night at her house we had cake for breakfast. Not T. and me, her mom and me. Bunny, that was her nickname, would dance to the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever -- it was a butt shaking, shoulder boucing dance.

She was a piece of work and she will be missed.

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