After I went and got my teeth cleaned by my sweet dental hygienist and she assured me that my gums look great and we showed each other pictures of our grandkids and caught up on the news and so forth, I took myself to the Goodwill because you know- getting out of any medical appointment makes me manic with relief and I have to use that energy to do something CRAZY and in my case, that usually means going to the Goodwill.
I love to browse through the "bin" part of the Goodwill which is where they keep things like aprons and tablecloths and napkins and place mats. People get those things for gifts and never use them and in fits of trying to simplify they donate them and I snap them up. I found Lily some very pretty place mats and I also bought her a Christmas tablecloth which someone had made, sewing little Santa's by hand all over it and I got myself a new cotton made-in-India tablecloth for my back porch table where I spend a good part of my day. I washed it and put it on the table and I think it may drive me mad. The tiny checks are like optical illusion patterns or something and fuck with my depth perception. I'll try to live with it. We shall see. If I start getting migraines, we will know why. I also got a cashmere sweater which is not the greatest color in the world and it has a tiny hole in it but when it gets cooler (theoretically, it will get cooler here, although it reached 85 degrees today) it will be nice to grab and put on. It's a cardigan and will make a fine chicken-feeding sweater.
So there was that. Then I went to lunch with my husband at Sonny's barbecue because someone had given him a fifteen dollar gift card and that was okay too. It was nice to be with him but I swear to you- being around people is difficult for me. I am constantly checking everyone out, trying to figure out their stories and today we were across from an old lady in a wheelchair and what I assume was her daughter and a little girl, no doubt her grand daughter who was three years old. I know she was three years old because at one point the old lady was tickling the little girl who complained and said it hurt and the old lady said, "What? I've been doing this for three years and now you say it hurts?"
I did not like that old lady. She kept making the child eat coleslaw before she'd let her eat her macaroni and cheese as if Sonny's coleslaw is one bit better for the human body than macaroni and cheese and she was feeding her although the child was obviously old enough to eat by herself and at one point the old lady gave the little girl a "look" that scared the girl who turned her back and hid her eyes and it scared me too. I think that the old lady was giving her "the look" out of playfulness but let me tell you something- that look was like a super power and should not be used unless it is absolutely necessary.
So I decided that their story was that the old lady ruled the rest of them like a spiteful and malicious queen and it made me sad. Plus, she had a really annoying accent.
See? I get way too wrapped up in all of this shit and I have to wonder what made that old lady so mean and was she always that way or just since she's had to be in a wheelchair and so on and so forth and honestly, it's mostly for the best if I just don't go out.
When I got home, I rustled up a venison meatloaf for my husband to take up to the hunting camp which he left for a few hours ago. Long story. Don't ask.
Okay, ask. It's for him and his buddy to make sandwiches out of and for him to have bragging rights about his wife's meatloaf. My meatloaf.
Why does "meatloaf" always sound obscene?
And then I continued the saga of trying to get my phone replaced and finished up the online claim process but was told that after review, it was determined that my claim was not valid for some stupid reason that was NOT TRUE so it was being refused.
Let me just say this- insurance companies could suck the joy out of the Dalai Lama's heart. Any kind of insurance company. They all make it as difficult as humanly and technologically possible to make a claim as they possibly can so that eventually, you will just give up and say "Fuck this shit, I can't take it any more."
I am not telling you anything you do not know already.
So that was my day which was pretty darn so-so.
Except for this picture that Jessie sent me.
She also sent me a video which of course I cannot post because I have pissed off the gods of technology in some way. But in it, he was trying to talk, quite obviously, and he is officially one month old today. Also? They better bring that child back home soon because I am dying from LOA (Lack of August) and it hurts my heart.
May we all have sweet dreams but let me point out that I do believe I had my first third-person dream last night and was observing rather than participating which is extremely interesting but it was not satisfying.
I will say no more about that. Wouldn't be fittin' for a grandmother's blog.