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Friday, November 08, 2013

 

The nation's tallest Christmas tree


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6:15 A.M. Stinks


6:15

I am not “built” for 6:15 a.m...

I have no idea how or why I did it when in my “former” life.  The life that saw me waking up at 5 in the morning throwing on my running clothes, hooking up my wonderful Sunshine and running 2 miles before starting my morning routine.  Or before that, doing the same with our first and wonderful Lucky.

 

Our new Lucky-if she wakes me up (she’s welcome to keep giving me puppy kisses, but it’s not working) she’s more often than not greeted by my groaning and telling Steve that there’s “no way in H-E-double hockey sticks) that I’m going to be able to open even our levered door handles.

 

This is because even though they have levers-the stupid locks do NOT.  What was the ADA thinking when they approved only ½ of a design?  No way will my “witchy, sausage” hands be able to open the dials and get our poor little-bladdered dog out the door.

 

Also, besides having hands and feet that cannot move-I’m finding my brain isn’t really in a functioning mood until after cup #2 has kicked in-just ask Dylan and Aidan.

 

They were staying with us most of last week and getting them and me ready for school was definitely not a pleasant experience.  NOPE.

What I overheard Dyl telling Aidan:  Don’t bother grandma yet-you know she can’t move right until she’s had her coffee.

 

I don’t know how the idea that coffee and moving melded, but I’m guessing that there actually be some truth to this discovery.  Oh and the boys suggested that I might not have to worry so much about dropping my mug if “you’d just drink through a straw.”

Those two are really putting their heads together to help me.  Bless their intelligent minds.  If the thought of sipping a hot drink through a straw didn’t sound so painful –I’d consider giving it a go.

 

Back to the 6 a.m. wake-up call. 

I don’t like getting up in the dark, I am not fond of trying to move and now-the mornings are starting out somewhere around 58 degrees, so it’s cold.  Lucky doesn’t like the cold.

We bought her a “hoody” jacket-Steve won’t have anything to do with it.  I think he’s thinking that she should just “suck it up buttercup”-but she’s 5-1/2 lbs. and doesn’t exactly have a real fur coat!  Ever try to get a hoody on a pup with stiff and swollen hands?  She likes the darned thing (should see her prance around when she’s got it on!) or it might be even harder to get her dressed.

 

Today I woke up at that ungodly hour yet again-this time to help Adam.  He, poor guy, had to have some dental work done and needed me to watch Jackson.  I had to be there at 7:15.  Too early to sit over my coffee and wake up.  Jackson was in his usual great mood.  From there I had my yearly birthday present to myself-a mammogram.  Got home at 10 and didn’t get started with my day until almost 11.

 

I know everyone is in an uproar about Obamacare, shootings all over the country, getting our boys home safely from the middle east and so much more-my own needs are mundane compared to all of this, but I’d gladly vote for some new and inexperienced politico who would just not let morning begin until around, oh, 8.

And now, I bid you all a good (or grouchy) day.

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