Author: Karebare42@aol.com

It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out, it’s the pebble in your shoe. Actually, I kind of think that mountain would be so daunting that I’d never get as far as the shoes, but that would shut the story down pretty quickly. And how can I discuss feet without a lofty introduction?? I went to a very chi chi affair the other night, or it had that intention. It was outside. In September. In Ohio. Now you get my drift. No, not snowdrift. Yet. That’s October. Anyway, normally everyone get’s decked out in little dresses and pointy shoes and looks very Gatsbyish. But, oh, the weather. Rain, chilly, and appropriate for jeans jackets. Lots-oh-jeans jackets. I didnt quite get the dressage right, but I have to say a jeans jacket never was an option. Of course, my Manfriend’s sports jacket worked just fine, and that wasn’t part of my master plan, either. But, what I got Very Wrong were my shoes. They were sandalish. They had a heel. And they hurt. I realized after wearing flipflops or tennis shoes all summmer, my feet didn’t know how to wear shoes. (Who am I kidding? I haven’t worn shoes in three years.) Slippers during Covid started a trend that I havent’ really broken out of yet. But, most disconcerting, my feet were in my head. I once traveled to Europe with a friend who said he didn’t enjoy himself because his feet hurt. When he got home, he made it his mission to get comfortable shoes. and it rocked his world. Sadly, I think I’ve reached that point. If your feet ain’t right, your head ain’t right. Damn pebble. I’m not quite ready to go full orthopedic, but think the heel thing is done. And the pointy toe. Which I never could pull off anyway because my foot is shaped like a shoebox. None of those jeans jackets cared what shoes I wore. (They also wore a lot of boots. A craze I can dig.) Since I always have very lofty goals, I’m on a mission to be right by my feet. Show them some love. I’m sure that whole mountain thing really wasn’t about feet, but saying how sometimes it’s the little things that drag you down. Or something deep deep deep like that. I just happened to read it after my feet epiphany, which reminds me I do have some very comfy hiking boots that I wore all through Montana. Everyone did. With real jeans jackets. Now I’m excited!! #trending #TikTok #nextcomesarmpithair

Enough with the kudos already. It is one of those overdone words that has become part of the post-pandemic culture. First everything was unprecidented. Then redacted. Then part of the woke mob. Then something something. Now because I have too many virtual meetings everyone is getting kudos. And because I am immature and it sounds like cooties, stop already. It just sounds fake. If you are in the office or with someone, you might say ’nice job’ or ’atta boy’. Pat on the back. Pat on the back. Virtually, if you want to recognize someone, you give them kudos. Lots-oh-kudos. It just annoys me. (Did I say I was immature?) And because I watch too much news, repeating news, not breaking news, I just keep hearing the same words and phrases repeated. But…..I have to come out with my darkish secret. I love TV! Really look forward to it love. I’ve always had the TV on, but was usually multi-tasking. Reading a newspaper or magazine, writing a fascinating blog, scrolling through worthless social media, painting or biting my nails. Never fully engaged. But now that I’ve managed to spend even more money on streaming services, I just can’t get enough. I plan my day around when I can watch TV. I make sure I’m well rested. I tee up my coffee to make sure I’m sufficiently wired. There are just so many shows that are in my wheelhouse. (Just where is my wheelhouse though? And what even IS a wheelhouse????) Books that I’ve read and loved are now series. I see naked men. And not just from the back. I am totally engaged and wouldn’t even think about picking at a nail. Just a whole new world of good entertainment. Kudos to the writers of those shows. Kudos to the actors who make me forget they are acting. Kudos to the naked bodies that are more than boobs. Kudos to me. Just because.

Ends. Sometimes that is all the closure there is. The happy ending might never be there, and unless you are a quarterback with enough cash to pick up women in bars, just accept your transition. Yes, and……. And that’s where the story goes. I was watching a talk show broad whose job it is to talk. And talk. I always wonder what you do when you are just not in the mood, but you have way too much airtime to fill. Yes, and…. I didn’t quite understand her explanation because she was boring the crap out of me, but yes, and….is her go to phrase. On both sides of the conversation. Yes, and….I see where she was going with it. Yes. Show stopper. Yes, and…… I was thinking of that for the last few weeks during my insomnia moments (longgggg moments) because I have replayed my nocturnal tapes enough that they are used up and not doing the trick anymore. We all have them. Where we let our mind wander to get back to sleep. However, I have finally used mine up. Borrrrring. Old magazines. Yes, and….. I need the next installment. Which is why I’m cranky and sleep deprived. Old tapes. I have given up all hope of a better past. Guess I need to get some more material in my file lest I become one of those crotchety Boomlennials I’ve heard are out there. Yes, and….I don’t want to be one. Yes, and….I will update my three in the morning playlist with cool things to think about. Yes, and….don’t complain, don’t explain (like the Queen). The Other Queen. I was hearing music from my printer yesterday. Must have been the paper jammin. Yes, and….

I am one of those people I make fun of. Not that I would actually make fun of people. That would be wrong. Very wrong. A few Thanksgivings ago, my peeps started working on a Disney Princess puzzle that had been laying on a table for awhile. Gave us something to do so we wouldn’t have to talk to each other (just kidddding) (sorta of), and it was Princesses. Who doesn’t love a beautiful Disney Princess in their colorful Disney apparel? I just want to lick all things Disney right now. I digress. Imagine that. Anywayyyyy, it was fun!! Big and little got to participate, and a new hobby/obsession started for me and Manfriend. We Love Puzzles! We have become ’those people’. Once when shopping for a new puzzle, this man started talking about his wife only liking two-thousand piece ones, and we started slowly scooting away from him and looking for security. Weirdo. Another time (see where I’m going with this??), while checking out with a puzzle (500 piece only), the cashier started telling us about her card table set up in front of the TV, and that she would only do thousand piece puzzles. How do we keep running into allll these odd people? Never have I ever thought I’d be discussing puzzles, but I am. Manfriend and I do them together, and talk A Lot about them. Size does matter. And thickness. And color. And now I need a cigarette. At least we try to do it in private, and not tell everyone what we like. We experiment, but always head back to the basics. Do what the missionaries did. You know, beautiful sunsets, beach scenes, snowy carriage rides. Nothing exciting. Like those Disney Princesses. Rated R.

I have reached that time of the summer where nothing is exactly wrong, but nothing feels quite right either. Maybe it’s because the world is flourishing around me and I’m not quite keeping up. The flowers and trees are all at their peak off lushness before they start to get a bit backendish. Even my hair is looking rather good, thank you humidity. Since the roots have their own camo this time of year, I stay away from the hairdresser and rely on au natural a bit more. Do love that sun. Always good for the skin, too, you know. But….I am just not flourishing like the rest of my environment. It’s a bit like the post holiday blahs. There’s a lot of anticipation of all the exciting things that will happen, but most of them have become Ponderosa maintenance issues. Been the season of bassakwards. For example, my Villagers planted all the front yard flowers in the back, and ditto. So I have these huge vines all over my front hard, and tiny little things sighing in front of the trellises out back. I am well aware of the labor shortage this year, but that’s a good one. My pool is pondish, but very good fishing. I’m just crankbait. I’ve laughed through much of it, but the funny bone is getting weak. Not really! My doc keeps telling me my bones are going to turn to sawdust, but he’s wrong! The tests keep proving I could take him out in a fight, so he needs to pick on someone his own size. Don’t mess with a languishing pussy willow. #girlsjustwanttohavefunun

I like to think I am the Captainess of my domain. The Wizardess of beyond the yellow brick driveway. But when it comes down to it, I’m a weak spoke in the cog. Whatever a cog is. Everyone knows I’m the idea person. Noun; one who knows it all, but doesn’t follow the advice. Sometimes charming, most times annoying. I sometimes wonder why I bother to talk. (Not really. I am endlessly fascinating). Recently, my Manfriend invited me to meet up with a friend of his for a drink and to ’catch up’. Oh, I know what that means. Code for I want something from you and will lie and cheat my way to get it. Might be a tad dramatic, but I ungraciously declined the invite, but have at it Manfriend. (This is really a test to see if MF still reads my amazing blogue.) Welllllll, I was right!!&$?! ‘Friend’ really did want some intel, and MF spilled MY guts. Not his guts! All the things we had talked about previously came tumbling out, and that was only after one beer. Really, you didn’t think our conversations were private? Personal? Or is it like in sixth grade where you have to have everyone promise not to tell anyone. And then everyone tells everyone. MF doesn’t see what the big deal is I’m sure, but the ship just needs some security. Some I got your back. Now I’m feeling very guarded in what I say, and I love the free flowing of ideas. Especially mine. I have a terrific idea for a book (being the idea lady and all). In it, the characters slowly fall in love with the reader. Get it? Quite the mind bend. Shhhhhh don’t tell anyone. A lot to ponder. Better get in a sleep appetizer. You know, a nappetizer. Oh, now that’s funny….

Everything happens for a raisin. Yes, I used to believe that until I realized what a futile and misguided phrase that is. Probably saw it on a tshirt and thought, hey, why not? Then you try to explain the sh*t in your life and hmmmm, there is no effin way this can be reasonable. Or the good stuff for that matter. A new telescope has just started sending photos from billions of light years away. I don’t understand the science no matter how many scantily clad weather women try to explain it, but I still geek out a bit. Mainly because it’s so far beyond my level of comprehension. But, what I do get, is my total insignificance. Poof. But cool to ponder anyway. Speaking of traveling, (we weren’t), unless time travel counts, I’m not much for it, but trying to change my ways. When something good happens, you should travel to celebrate. If something bad happens, travel to forget. If nothing happens, travel to make it happen! I knew I needed to change my ways when one of my dearests asked me what my plans were for the weekend. I innocently answered that I got a new puzzle. Go ahead and cringe. He answered ’dream bigger’. Ya got that right!!! I recognize lame when I see it. This free-spirited Boomlennial needs to step up her game!!$&!! I set a low bar for many things, but really?? Need a better agenda. I can’t even blame my dog. A friend of mine was invited to cruise up the whole east coast on someone elses boat. Sounds awesome!! But….she didn’t think her dog would like it and she couldn’t leave him. Say what??? I’m hoping there were other factors, because that makes my new puzzle seem almost raisinable. I am motivated now to get my a$$ out of the chair, away from my flotation devices, and makeup mirror. Although I do dearly love my makeup mirror. #raisinagainsttheclock #givemearaisintolive #perfectlipstick

Advice. Take it!

Get at least 20 minutes of outdoor time every day. Unless you are really busy. Then get an hour. Gotcha! But what great advice. Can’t get that everywhere folks. I just returned from a long weekend where I was outside all the time. Whether sitting on the screened porch, walking, or sunning, I was just breathing. Always a good plan. It is just so true that when you leave the walls behind, you expand. In a good way. #nosunningwithpinacoladas. Even if the air you breath is not the purest, your senses need the new refreshment to regroup. Maybe after Covid and quarantine, I’ve just gotten a greater appreciation for the Great Outdoors. I always liked it, now I neeeeed it. Just like plugging my a$$ into the sun. I take my walks seriously, but I also take my sits and stands the same. An additional charge. A reboot so to speak. (That must be bad grammer. What does so to speak even mean??) I saw a quote recently that I’m going to steal and hopefully do something with. ’If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine: it is lethal’. Pretty cool, huh? And since I’m into advice (mostly giving, not taking) I like the drift. I/we need to quit being so complacent.
Wrong for the swinging Boomlennial. Speaking of swinging, one just opened up and I can get off this damn teeter-totter. Very hard by yourself. #girlsjustwanttohavefun. So to speak.

WhoaWhoaWhoa. You know I’m not going there, as in THERE. I’m into Summerizing right now. Verb. The big Memorial Day weekend has come and gone, and everyone must have their new mattress already. What is it about holidays that mattresses are always on sale?? Could it be that we don’t have nonstop plans? The media has us all barbecuing and grilling and kicking off the summer grander than grand. But…..maybe we all just want a good nights sleep shhhh. This year, the sun actually was shining and it was hot. As in it’s time to complain hot and run back inside for AC. I’ve been conditioned to watch the Indy 500 in a soaking rain just waiting for the next meal. Not this year, baby! Heat, white pants, straw purse and Bare Arms. What?!!? Already? I feel like I just put those away. As the season moves along I really don’t care that much (I do), but that first outing is a bit rough. I give myself all the positivity messages blah blah I can still swim and lift younguns and swing from the rafters blah blah but ouch. Guess that ping pong wasn’t as great of a workout as I thought. After quitting my gym during Covid, those muscles took a bit of a nap. My Manfriend thinks it’s time to rejoin something or other, and I know he’s right, but it would cut into our puzzle time. Just kidding. (I’m not). Seems like I don’t have time, but most of life is basically a Wednesday, and I’m sure (not sure) I could fit it in. Damn Right to Bare Arms.

I’ve just returned from Hotel California after a couple year break, and this is what I know. The place really took a dump. It’s not in CA, but haunting like the song. I wrote one of my favorite blogues while there a few years ago, and had to reread it. No one enjoys my blogues as much as I do, and this one was especially good. (Just kidding. They are all especially good.) But the essence of the story was just wrong in real time. The charm was gone now, and I didn’t even have the words for the Point 2 version. But, that old blogue did get me hooked on those feelings. And helped me remember what I had liked about the place. For a brief moment, I was back there. And left me wondering if it had changed so much, or had I??? After posting this blogue for almost five years, I see what it really is. A speck in time. A random thought or feeling. One of my dearests was telling me that he likes the idea of journaling, but hates thinking that someone could find and read his innermost thoughts. I know! Horrible! People that do journal must have less spiderwebs and thorns in their head then I do. But I finally realized that only I remember what was going on with me at the time of a certain post. Journaling for Dummies or something like that. No wonder I find them even more fascinating than my millions of followers. If that’s even possible. I now get that I need to keep enlightening you, because it refreshes me. And drops me into that Boomlennial world we live in with just nonsense most of the time. Which is what life basically is, right? So now I have to eat these words or throw them into the fire. Nah. Not that deep. ‘Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.’