Call me Patty Practical

I can't help it. My gifts lean to practical things. When I spied the scrubbers with the nifty handle that I had been looking for, I bought two---one for me, and one for James and Amber, as I'd been telling them about it. Easier on your hands.

Ben's stocking is stuffed with practical items: a long sleeved tee shirt for work, and a cute tee to wear over it about geeky things. And some manly-manly gold bond ultimate hand cream. And some scratchers. It is colorful. But, might as well be socks they'll be thinking. Hey, socks wear out. Socks are practical. It is important to take care of your feet.

And when I spy Balneol at Walmart---whoa. Bob's stocking is filled with six bottles. A six month supply! And while it is expensive, his boo-hiney is worth it in my humble opinion. For a while, Balneol was impossible to find except online. Then that company quit stocking it. I have all the Walmarts I frequent stocking it now. But, the trick is to find a stache when Bob is on his last bottles. He will be so suprised. But, it is not a very romantic gift. Bob bought himself a gps watch that also tracks your heartrate and plugs into his computer. He was showing it to Andy, and Andy pulled his out!!! THEY THINK ALIKE!!! Like father, like son. I won't be suprised if James gets one, too.

And only practical gifts come to mind for my daughterS-in-law. And what to get Abby that they can fit in their luggage. It was $22 to ship them two presents already, things with magnets that were not luggage friendly.

I got the plymouth washed. Finally getting the mold off of it. There are still a few spots I cannot reach, and the washer place did not get, either. Black mold from all our rain in October and November---formed around the window edges. It rubs off with windex and a paper towell. I just don't think we should be breathing it.

And I went to the chiropractor. I was dreading that visit, but at least I can sorta stand up straightishly more than I could before. A disk slipped and even my ribs were hurting. And my hips were not right. It felt like my innerds were on fire as he adjusted soft tissue. Oh, well. It is a beautiful day. And my car is vacuumed out, and tidy. All the fluids are good. It is dripping something on the drive, but I cannot tell what, as all the indicators show full. It makes a lovely vibrator noise when at the stoplights. Shudders as if the timing or spark plugs are not in sink. The transmission is a little sluggish, and it creaks like it needs the joints greased. But, how much to spend on it? It would cost a bunch just to get everything diagnosed. I don't dare take it in unless I can leave it for days, and I have something very specific. Best not to send them on a hunt at $75 and hour. But, it runs good. And gets us places. And passed inspection for another year. A great second car. 1997. I call it my tupperware car, as everything is plastic. And we have replaced most of it over the years. We are waiting for a sign from God when to let it go. We want to spend our money wisely. It comes in handly this week, as we let firstborn and his family use the toyota for the wedding in Houston. I just have to remember to pick up Bob at the train! Usually, I am sitting here watching Breitbart TV online, a very conservative group, and fixing supper, folding clothes, and waiting for Bob to pull up exactly at 5:45pm.

I have it so easy. Windows open, sun shining through. Everything at hand here---for correspondence, and for looking up stuff, for comfort and joy. Yes, I live like a queen. At 5pm, I need to be ready to drive over to the train station. Just take my knitting, and not get distracted cleaning windows or unloading the dishwasher or throwing another load in the dryer. At 5pm, I should not get distracted re-arranging furniture, nor pictures, nor dusting. Picture myself walking out the door at 5pm. Maybe if I keep setting the hour-timer on the oven it will help me remember.

There.

Bob calls each day as he leaves his office in case he is working late and has to catch a later train. And Bob calls if there has been a delay or incident. But, our little virgin phones do not hold a charge, and while we have plenty of minutes, there is no way to plug it in on the train. Train station maybe. Pay phones are hard to find these days.

Found a cute blog with the name: My Blog is More Boring than YOurs. I beg to differ. I have a contender. Mine! ha

From where I sit here in the south-facing living room, the sun does not rise much above the power lines along the back fence. Bob could tell you the degrees. We are quickly approaching the shortest day. The first day of winter. The winter solstice. But, this past week has actually been shorter because the sun went to bed by 5:22pm. The shortness comes at dawn this week through solstice.

Shall we talk about dry noses? If you faint at the word, blood, then stop reading now. I bought some baby saline spray at Walmart for my own nose. I had been using Vicks, but I had a huge, scary nosebleed this morning from dry nose boogers. Yikes. Got the blood out of my nightgown okay by putting "joy" dishwashing liquid on it immediately. DAWN and JOY work as good or better than other spot removers. Getting old is not for the faint of heart.

What else shall I bore you with? Hum. Cotton Candy? Walmart is so fun to stock it this time of year. And I have the empty containers to prove it. After washing the quart containers in the dishwasher--I need to find an artist or teacher that could use them. Seems a waste to throw them in the recycling bin.

Is the healthcare bill dead for another year? Sounds too good to be true.