It was too tempting.Right after that he tumbled head over paws; Elizabeth caught him before he hit the halfway mark.
But, all that outdoor fun meant Kramer eventually needed a bath.LYNNE'S SOMEWHAT INVENTED LIFE. Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain.
It was too tempting.
But, all that outdoor fun meant Kramer eventually needed a bath.
This little boy was once a clown.
This little girl was once a princess and wore a pink prom dress. She wore that dress so often that she wore it out. She even wore it to wade in rain puddles with yellow rain boots.
And look at them now.
It's enough to give a person nightmares.
I hope Phil doesn't mind me sleeping with the light on.
I didn't get enough sleep last night so I decided to see if Wayne Dyer was right--see the end of yesterday's post--that when you meditate it is worth several hours of sleep. I was deep into meditation when "Yowl, yowl, yowl," that was Minkey standing in the doorway. Who knows what he wanted? He finally went away. In five minutes he was back, "yowlyowlyoowwwll."
Phil and I went to a meditation class today and here are a few things I learned.
When one of my granddaughters was four years old she loved to sing. One day her mom was listening to her and did a double take. This is what she heard:
I better smell everything, while I'm at it.
Hey, did anyone over there see when the great pumpkin came back?
He brought Ghostie with him. I don't much like Ghostie, he's a cheerful sot, way too cheerful and stands way too tall. He annoys me in a ghostly, cheerful, tall, sort of way.
Kramer, are you down there? The Great Pumpkin came back along with annoying Ghostie but you are not invited to the party.
Ha! That's how much you know. I am the party. I am a party animal. You are just a squinty, annoying cat. I will not even look at you until you apologize for wearing my handsome, manly devil costume. See me ignoring you? See?
Well, all-rightie-then, if you're going to be that way, see if I care. I'll just see what is in the pumpkin.
"Did you hear me? I said DON'T LOOK AT ME."
"Wait. Is that the doorbell. I have ta go now and defend the house from evil doorbell ringers. Barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark."
"It was a false alarm. The doorbell was on some stupid TV show. And look at that fool, Pika who got tricked into wearing the costume. Hahahahahaha. I look manly. I look brave. She looks silly. She looks squinty. She needs to give that costume back."

You know how I love chairs. This was a sweet one and following are two pressed back chairs--they didn't photograph as cute as they are.

This was my favorite item there. Actually, there were two of them. They were seven feet, six inches tall! They were sold the morning of the first day. Naturally. Many people are there the minute the garage sale opens the first day. 

Hillary needs a mirror but this one was gone by Saturday.
There were several children's tables. So cute. So sold.

On Thursday I took Pam. On Friday I took Cindy. On Saturday I took Hillary and Shan. Next time I will notify my whole ward as I'm the Relief Society communications person and this is communication they need, don't you think?
These are scrubbies, made of nylon net. Well, they are sort of scrubbies. They are supposed to look more like the one at the bottom, right, only they should look better. But, because I am a novice-scrubbie-maker they look like taco's. I think my personal history class is going to get these failures. I'm nice like that, giving my failures away to my friends.
Mini James has all the latest equipment. This is the Sock Arsenal. It's very high tech.
The Sock Arsenal is so much more advanced that all that hoopla that the real James Bond has to carry. Below: Complicated. Cumbersome. Dangerous. Costly. Above: Simple. Inexpensive. And if the darts don't go off unexpectedly, safe.
The thought immediately came to me that Jesus wants me to be happy--to shine, so to speak--in my life, in my trials, in my encounters with others. I do not shine in my trials. I am not happy in my trials. I am "heavy laden," and "My hands hang down." I sigh. I weep. I want to run away--once I even wrote a story about running away to Texas and described what I would do there. Occasionally, not often, but occasionally, I am even angry. But mostly I worry. Is that a trait of women? Worry? I don't want to worry, I want to have faith.
She was dating two men at once. Both were nice. Both were funny. Both were handsome. Both had ambition. One brought her flowers. That seems like a good thing, right? He brought them to her in a rusty bucket, filled with water. She was not impressed. She married the other one.