Because you really want to know . . .
I am deep in a dream and it is a dream about my children, and moving house, and losing a cat and I am holding my daughter's contact lenses (which she doesn't even wear to my knowledge) in my hand tightly so I don't lose them. I have only just helped to get them off her cheeks where they had fallen . . . did I blink? I must have, because Mitzie is nosing me at the edge of the bed. Her nose, wet and cold, prods me again and again. I notice I have my hand clutched tightly around the contact lenses/nothing in real life, and decide I best get up because I moved and there will be no stopping Mitzie now. She knows I am on the edge of waking up and she will prod me until I move my feet out of the bed and on to the floor.
I am worried she will wake up Todd
and so I get
. . .
I sit up and my feet touch the floor and immediately I am aware of my plantar fasciitis. My feet hurt. Immeasurably. Mitzie turns around in a few circles and then hits the stairs. She is down them in an instant while I am still hobbling to the bathroom to do my morning ablutions. Done, I hobble down the stairs where Mitzie is waiting for me to let her out. She can't get out the door fast enough. She knows her daily dentastick awaits her when she gets back in. I put her out and then hobble over to the dentastick tin. By the time I take one out for her and hobble back to the door, she is ready and waiting. I let her in, give her the stick and she settles down in the living room to eat it while I put on my pressure socks and shoes, hoping that they will help. I say my prayers and then reach for a diet coke. Some people drink Coffee to get their day started. I drink diet coke, and I know . . . I shouldn't, but I am only human. It used to be a ciggarette, now its a coke. I think the coke is better for me.
Still sitting, I reach for my iPad to check on the progress of the Township game that I play. Has my plane arrived? Can I load it? Do I have enough to load it? Yes, it has and I do, but three trains have also arrived and need off-loading and filling up. Do I have enough room in my barn for all of this? Yes. I do. Especially when I help a few friends in the game who need things on their trains and in their cargo holds. My fingers are itching to check the computer and my e-mail, but I quickly check to see what I am going to need for my next plane and get the goods started for that. Damn . . . I need sugar cane AND gingerbread cookies. The cookies need honey comb. The bees need sugar cane . . . this is going to get messy. But I am up for it and so
I do what I need to do,
and then put the game down
and move to the
. . .
It opens up quickly this morning. I am glad for that because I have a lot to do. It annoys me when it messes me about and I have to reboot a bazillion times. I quickly run down my e-mails and delete all the junk. It is mostly junk. I reply to the comments and ones I need to reply to immediately and then move to my food blog. My daily post hasn't come up. I try to figure out why, and then realize it is because I didn't put the right time on it. I change that and it posts. It's a cake pie. A tasty cake pie. I think about pie and cake. Should I? I think not and have another swig of coke. Cake is fattening. Cake pie is even more fattening. I edit my photos for instagram so that I can post it on there. I am stuck on 233 followers. They go up and they go down. I don't know the secret of getting followers. In the scheme of things it doesn't really matter I suppose. But I would like more. Bad me. I post my Instagram and then my twitter.
Time to write my daily post on this blog that you are reading right now. Some days I don't know what to write, but most days as I sit and stare at the blank screen, it comes to me. Some days are taken care of because I do the same thing every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Its the in-between days I need to think about. Something always comes into my mind. In fact some days I wake up with the theme for the day already in my mind, or I go to bed thinking about what I am going to write about the next morning. I start tap, tapping away . . .
I look at the cake pie on the table and
then take another swig
. . .
. . .
I tap, tap some more and then Mitzie starts to nose my knee. It is time for her breakfast. I hobble into the kitchen, talking to her as I go. We love these morning conversations. Well, maybe it is only me. She sits eagerly in the kitchen doorway as she patiently watches me methodically getting her breakfast for her and telling her what I am doing as I go along. I put it down for her on the matt in front of the sink and hobble back to the computer and tap, tap away for a little while longer. The cake pie keeps beckoning me. I get up and stretch and take my morning meds instead, washed down with another swig of coke. I check my game quickly. Nothing going on, so back to tap, tapping I go. I finish it off and the daily blog goes out.
I check my facebook . . . methodically. Anyone I need to wish a Happy Birthday to? Do those. Check each one of the children's pages to see if they have posted anything new. They have not. Sigh . . . oh well. Check my sister's and then my brother's and father's pages. Nothing new. My nieces and nephews. My friends. Nothing new of import. Now to my English Kitchen page. I post my photos of the day and try to make them as tasty as can be and then I respond to all the comments from the day before. That takes a while. Ariana always thought I was nuts doing that, but I bear a responsability to my readers. If they can take the time to write, I need to take the time to respond and I do. Its the right thing.
The cake pie
. . .
. . .
The clock gongs 7 and I pick up my scriptures. There is a group from my Ward on Insta-gram that are reading them together each day. I check the reading (s) and read them and then sit and ponder on what I have read. Good stuff. I write my promptings in my journal, and then I hear the floor creaking. The old man is getting up. Mitzie and I both await his arrival downstairs with great anticipation. Her tail wags excitedly. If I had one I would wag it too. But I don't. Morning hugs are exchanged. Did you sleep well? I always ask the same thing. He doesn't mind. We both get washed and dressed. I put my make-up on as he watches the news and eats his cereal. I don't have cereal because . . . bad me, I had cake pie . . . we discuss what we are going to do today. Same old, same old. He has his treatment. I have my work. But we are alive and we are loved and we are happy.
My day passes in a litany of fun and chores. I must cook something, write lots of things, keep my game going in between all of those. Feed Todd. Write some more. Stretch. Photograph. Clean house. Do laundry. Stretch some more. Play with Mitzie. Cook some more. Hang laundry. Write. Stretch. And write some more. Todd goes out. Todd comes back. I put away the computer.
We sit down together and
talk about our
Mitzie listens. Then goes for a walk, while I get Todd's tea on. My iPad is buzzing. I know it is my oldest daughter wanting to talk, and I feel blessed that she does. We chat as I bustle around the kitchen getting supper and doing dishes and feeding Mitzie her evening meal.
Todd and I, we break bread together
and we make plans and we
and we make plans and we
talk more about our day
. . .
. . .
I take my shower, get on my pj's and we settle in for an evening of telly. I will knit or embroider and play my game every now and then, as the light from the television flickers over our faces. Mitzie snoozes next to me on the sofa. We talk about what we are watching. It is usually the same thing each night . . . . a bit of drama, a bit of history, a bit of reality, finishing off with the Gilmore Girls and a Big Bang Theory. Yes, we are creatures of routine, but we like it that way. Before we know it, it is time to turn in. Mitzie gets put out. I get her little tidbit I feed her before sleep time. Todd makes sure all the lights are off and the heat is off while I hobble up the stairs. My feet are still sore. I do what I need to do and so does he, while I turn down the beds. Mitzie is waiting for me next to my side of the bed in anticipation. Bedtime prayer gets followed by my giving her her treat and her settling down next to me. Todd reads. I read. Lights go out, and I lay there whilst Mitzie snores next to me on the floor. I smile in my heart because it is so good, and I am so blessed. How did I get to be so lucky. I close my eyes and sigh . . .
sleep follows and before I know it
Mitzie is nosing me again
with her cold, wet
. . .
. . .
A thought to carry with you . . .
.° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
*.˛.° ˛°. .
˛ “A meaningful silence is always better
than meaningless words ...
~Unknown .° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
Baking in The English Kitchen today . . . Spiced Apple Custard and Cake Pie. Oh boy . . .
Have a great Saturday!! No radiation today, but we have a Baptism to go to and I must bake some cookies to take to that, and we need to get some petrol for the car, etc. Hope your day goes well! Don't forget . . .
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And I do too!!