I'm amused at this

I received a panicky email this morning that informing me that on January 1, 2012, the government is going to initiate a 1% tax on all bank transactions.  At that time, the government is also going to require all social security checks to be received by direct deposit.  "Obama's finance team" is responsible for this whole dastardly scheme.  
At the bottom of the email is a link to Snopes, with the advice to "check it out on Snopes".  
I clicked on the link.  
Sure enough, it took me directly to information about this email.  
Snopes informed me that Obama had nothing to do with this proposal; only one lone representative with no support has proposed the 1% tax.  
Oh, and by the way, January 1, 2012 has come and gone.  
Hey, it made me smile.  An email that includes a link verifying that it is a lie.    


On another note, I took word verification off my comments yesterday.  I get an email when someone leaves a comment, and I received some emails of comments that were obviously spam.  However, when I came to my blog to delete them, they weren't here.  Blogger is not allowing them on my blog!  
Good work, Google Blogger.  So as long as the spam is being taken care of automatically, I can keep things simple for my commenters.  
I am already getting advice and help from Canadian readers, and will be receiving a map before long.  Some people, one of them my daughter, have suggested we get AAA before we travel.  I'll check that out and see how much it costs.  


Oh, do you know anyone within twenty miles of Kansas City who needs and deserves a new roof?  Click HERE to nominate them.

Miscellaneous

Wow, I can't believe I spelled that properly; I was waiting for spell-check to correct me.  

My daughter had an encounter with a deer this morning.  She's at work, evidently OK, but shaken up... and very sad, because she loves this car.  She calls it "the smokin' hot Neon".  
The first really good horse I owned was a Missouri Foxtrotter named Lad.  He was young and spooked easily, but otherwise was a fun-loving, people-loving creature.  Since he came long before the age of digital cameras, I have very few pictures of him.  Yesterday a Facebook friend posted a picture of her on Lad; I used to ride him to town and say hello to her mother, with whom I worked.  The little girl was a classmate of my daughter.  She tagged me with the following photo yesterday:

True, it's an unflattering picture of the horse.  But I only have a couple pictures of him, so I was thrilled to see this.  I love the memories it brought back, too.  Cliff used to take a stick and rake it along the side of a metal pole barn to make a racket:  Lad would cavort and kick up his heels running about, and then go running up to Cliff.  A neighbor was standing beside him once when he did this, and was scared to death by the approaching horse, who meant no harm at all; it was a game he and Cliff played all the time.  


I have turned off word verification, since Blogger has made it so difficult.  If I start getting a lot of spam, I will enable turn on comment moderation.  I really hope I don't have to do that.

The Canada trip

Remember our plans to go on a bus tour that would take us up into Canada?  It sounded so carefree:  our rooms would be booked for us, most of the meals taken care of.  Cliff could actually look out the window and enjoy the scenery, rather than having to do all the driving.  
Yes, it was pricey, but Cliff has a rather large tractor fund and he was willing to foot the bill.  
However, we would have to fly to  Calgary to start the bus tour.  Cliff hates to fly.  And yet, the thought of driving so far didn't appeal to him either.  
His older brother has been doing a lot of traveling with his wife lately, and Cliff started wondering if they would be interested in driving to Canada with us:  that way there would be three drivers taking turns at the wheel and sharing gasoline expenses.  
So we've talked to them, and it looks as though we will make the trip in that manner, using the bus tour destinations (loosely) as a guide.  However, we will be seeking our own lodging, which worries me somewhat.  I wonder if it's possible to find a motel in the Canadian Rockies section of Canada during peak tourist season. I know we could book lodging ahead of time, but that keeps you tied to a schedule, and who wants to be on a time clock when they are on vacation?  
I'm fairly certain I have at least one Canadian reader, and I would love to have some input either in the comment section or in email.  
We would probably rent a good-sized vehicle for the trip; Cliff's brother says that's the ideal solution; if you have car trouble, you simply get a different car.  
We will have to get passports.  I don't know about the monetary exchange rate, but we can find out about all that.  For my part, I would have just gone to Glacier National Park and stayed in the good old U.S.A., but Cliff is really keen on seeing Canada.  
If we were staying in this country, I could get free maps of the region we visit.  I cannot find any website that offers me a free road map of Alberta, Canada.  
I am looking forward to taking the trip with Cliff's brother and his wife.  At our ages, it will be good to have that kind of bonding experience.  We used to spend lots of time together when Cliff and I were newlyweds.  In fact, his brother's wife was one of the witnesses whose name is on our marriage licence.    
Help me out here, you folks with Canadian travel experience!

One good day follows another

I personally wasn't having the best day ever; I slept even less than usual Saturday night, and I felt just a little crossways of the universe.  Even so, it was another great day.   I made a crockpot full of taco soup, enough so that anybody passing through could have some.   Cliff's brother Don and his wife were still here, so the two guys worked on various tractors all day.  Relatives and strangers came for target practice in the pasture.  

On Facebook, I found a picture somebody took of my daughter yesterday that I absolutely love:  I see traces of my little girl from long ago in this shot.   Best.  Picture.  Ever.

Granddaughter Monica has a boy friend.  In a field full of people with guns, he was treading cautiously.  

Oldest grandson and Heather joined in the fun.

Son-in-law Kevin loves things that go "bang".  

The grandson, Heather, and a friend, Allen, spent quite a bit of time cleaning their weapons.  

Gotta love rednecks.  


I shamelessly stole most of these pictures on Facebook.  Since I wasn't at my peak performance, I remained in the house while the shooting was going on, reading the strangest book I've read in awhile, "The Art of Racing in the Rain".  The narrater of the story is a dog.  I cried at the ending.    


Nephew Scott put this on Facebook this morning:  "I love when my Aunt Donna gets out her guitar and sings her songs."  
I told him, "I don't do it often because nobody asks.  Thanks for asking."

A perfect day

We had a nice family gathering in the shop today.  Cliff's brother Don was here, and my daughter volunteered to make lasagna for the group.  I made a pineapple sheet cake.
Before everyone got here, I took Iris and my granddog Titan for a walk.  Titan wasn't sure about the horses; he figured maybe they were just Great Danes, like him.

My daughter made the lasagna in my kitchen.  Cliff's sister had breakfast and supper covered for today, but she and the sister-in-law went on a day-long shopping trip.  So I'm glad Rachel took care of the noon meal.  Don't forget, I made the cake.  

Some of the people had gone home when I took this.  My tardy oldest grandson had not arrived yet.  We chose to eat in the shop because it looked like quite a crowd for the trailer house.

My husband gave our daughter some sort of fatherly advice while Heather looked on.

Nephew Scott, his two kids, and a friend were among the guests.

Scotty asked me to get my guitar and sing.  These are the most enthusiastic fans I have had in years; in this picture they are listening to me sing.  Haily was especially impressed, so I must be better than I thought.  Of course, I was singing "The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly", which impresses all little kids.  
Isn't she a beauty?  

She's grown a lot since the day I first met her.  

After everybody left, Cliff and his brother went back to work sanding a couple of old tractor fenders.  Some of the group did a little target practicing in the pasture.  I brought Iris and my granddog, Titan, to the house for some much-needed rest.  

We were pooped after such a big day.  Titan isn't quite as big as the couch yet, but he's working on it.  

MSG and me

I had an appointment with the doctor at 1 P.M. today.  Cliff and I had some errands to run, so we took care of those and still had plenty of time to kill before my appointment.  It was noon, I was hungry, and I haven't had any Kentucky Fried Chicken for a long, long time.  So that's where we went.  
The appointment was just a routine one; I needed to get my blood pressure prescription refilled.  The doctor asked me the usual question, "Do you have any aches and pains?"
I always have to laugh inwardly at this.  I'm sixty-seven years old; of COURSE I have some aches and pains.  But I always tell him no, I don't.  Because none of my pains are unusual.  
He asked if everything was OK... had I been feeling all right?  
"I haven't had so much as a cold this winter," I told him.
When he listened to my heart, I thought to myself, "I feel a little fluttery; I hope everything sounds OK in there."  The nurse had mentioned that my blood pressure was a little elevated.  
And then the doctor announced that I have a heart murmur.  
This isn't the first time I've heard this news:  During an exam before one of my minor knee surgeries I was asked if I had ever been told I had a heart murmur.  No, I answered, I had not.  The guy said I might want to mention it to my doctor next time I saw him.
I did, and he listened to my heart:  there was no murmur.  
Now it's back.  Obviously I have a hide-and-seek murmur.  
I also have a theory.  After we came home today, I put two and two together:  That "fluttery" feeling?  It's how I always feel after eating a meal out that has been prepared with MSG.  That, and an intense thirst.  I'll bet that's why the blood pressure was a tad high, too.  
So now I can't help but wonder if there's a connection between the MSG and the heart murmur.  Google doesn't give me any positive connection between the two, but when I go for the test the doctor wants me to get, I will make sure not to eat out for three days in advance.  We shall see if that dratted murmur is still there.  
MSG can also trigger an asthma attack in those who are prone to such things.  Pesky little ingredient, isn't it?

The gardening has started

Yesterday I planted sugar snap peas, lettuce, cabbage, and beets.  The grass has started growing with the warm days we've had lately, so I decided my garden may as well be growing too.  I only planted things that won't be harmed by a freeze or snow.  
Planting the seeds is the easy part.  Of the things I planted, I see only one that will likely be trouble-free:  beets.  That is one vegetable that has never given me a problem.  I'll have to dust the cabbage to keep the worms from consuming them.  The peas and lettuce will likely be eaten by rabbits before they get any size to them.  And I'll will be left wondering why I even bother.  This reminds me of a poem I wrote in April of 1992:
  

There's a gorgeous spring day in the making,

And a peach-blossom scent on the breeze;

So I know I should be quite contented,

But the rabbits are eating my peas!

The sun shines, with no cloud to dim it,

And the birds twitter, up in the trees ---

But out in my early spring garden,

The rabbits are eating my peas!

On a beautiful morning like this one

My heart should be light as you please,

But I can't get myself in the spirit

When the rabbits are eating my peas.

There's a song wafting through God's creation

On bright, April mornings like these;

But how can I keep myself smiling

When the rabbits are eating my peas!  

Our winter has been so dry, I can't help but wonder if we are in for a dry spring and summer.  We're due for a drought, after three years of abundant moisture.  But today, hope springs eternal.  I have visions of a perfect garden unmarred by squash bugs, cabbage worms, and tomato blight.  
I can dream, can't I?

    Were my granddaughters really that young once?  Where has the time gone?

It happened on Facebook: tattoo discussion

I was private messaging with a couple of ladies on Facebook, asking them if they knew a certain person.  Somehow one thing led to another and I found out the two of them went together and got a new tattoo yesterday.
I said, "I've always hated tattoos, and yet there's a part of me that would like to get one, maybe on my shoulder where it wouldn't show too often."
They told me I should do it.  I asked about the pain and then left my little private messages and shared my thoughts with all my Facebook friends (if you are one of my Facebook friends, feel free to look at the discussion).  Someone asked what sort of tattoo I would get, and I said, "The Honda Gold Wing logo."

Here are a couple of possibilities, although the GL 1800 would not be a part of my tattoo.
Then Cliff and I watched a DVR'd episode of "Pickers" and saw them buying Mobil Pegasus signs.
"Wait a minute, I think that's the tattoo I want!  A Mobile pegasus!"
Cliff just shook his head.
I found a couple of examples of what I might ask for:

While this conversation was going on, is it any surprise that David, of Hyperblogal fame, came up with a whole different tattoo for me?  Here's his suggestion:

Ree Drummond, right on my arm.  Thanks David, but no.  I like Pioneer Woman, but not THAT much!


I have a special fondness for the Mobil Pegasus because when Cliff was a kid, he got a decal someplace and put it on the headboard of his baby sister's crib, which ended up being the crib I used for both of my babies.  I still have the headboard.

This morning I was googling "pegasus tattoos" and found out I am not the first person to want such a tattoo, although I may be the first to want the Mobil version.  A little more googling led me to learn that there is a meaning behind a pegasus tattoo.  


"As a tattoo symbol, Pegasus represents much of what a Horse does, loyalty, stamina, endurance and speed, but with the added dimensions normally associated with Wings and Birds -freedom, and a soaring spirit, mind and heart. Pegasus speaks to the poet in us, of the magical and mystical and the divine world of Gods among the clouds and Mount Olympus. Pegasus will carry us to new heights of imagination, inspiration and aspiration."


So, I think I have made my choice.  There's no fool like an old fool.

Unseasonably warm

Iris soaked up the sunshine.

Cliff disked my garden with the Oliver 1655, his next project tractor.

I tilled.  By the way, I told Cliff last fall when he plowed that I only wanted a small garden this year.  Trouble is, he loves to plow, and he got carried away.  

Can spring be far behind?

Ever have one of those days?

You know, one of those days when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed for no apparent reason?  That's me today.  
I followed my usual morning routine:  The coffee was good, and so were my Bible verses.  I was halfway through a rant on this blog about gullible people who believe every email they receive when I realized that I'm a grouch today.  I deleted the pompous, know-it-all post without finishing it.    
I am just as blessed today as I was yesterday.  I wonder if I had some unpleasant dream that I can't remember.  Honestly, what on earth would make a person with no problems wake up grouchy?  
Wait, maybe it WAS part of my Bible reading, because I reread this part of Psalm 39 four times this morning:
 4 "Show me, O LORD, my life's end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. 5 You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man's life is but a breath. "Selah" 6 Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro: He bustles about, but only in vain; he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it. 7 "But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you. 
I have been reminded of my own mortality.  That's enough to make any senior citizen grouchy.  
I will try to control what I put on the Internet today; I should probably tell Cliff to walk softly and carry a big stick.  For Iris' sake, I hope there is no recurrence of the flatulence with which she tortured us yesterday.   
I'm sure I'll get over this grouchy mood before long.

Class reunion

Yes indeed, the North Kansas City graduating class of 1962 is having its fiftieth reunion in September.  There's a website set up for us to create a profile, add a recent picture, and tell a little about ourselves.  So far, I have only seen one face I remember among the living, a girl who was in the popular group but was never condescending toward those of us who were largely invisible.  She's the one who called me and told me about the reunion and the website.  
The attendees will be the successful ones, the professionals, the ones who went to college.  
There were over five hundred people in my graduating class.  One hundred forty-eight of them have set up profiles on the website; so far, eighty-three of them plan to attend the reunion.  They are the same ones who were so popular in high school.  
Most of the class is missing in action.  
I read the profiles and looked at the updated pictures:  Some of them are actually much better looking in their sixties than they were as teenagers!  Sadly, seventy-five of my old classmates have died.  I did see a couple of faces I recall in that group, one of them a boy who went to the same church as my family.  Interestingly enough, that kid's dad is 93.  He was widowed and later remarried at age 87.  I know this because my sister still goes to that same church and so does he.  
I was a loner in high school, perhaps more so than I am now.  I had no close friends.  I didn't go to the prom.  I didn't date, although a couple of boys asked me out and I turned them down.  Good Lord, I didn't know how a person should act on a date!  The very thought of it scared me to death.       
Don't I sound like the kind of person who would take a gun into a mall and start shooting people?   
Even though I didn't interact with anybody in high school, it's amazing the feelings that are resurrected when I see the names and faces from those days.  
Not always good feelings, but certainly strong ones.  I was
An outsider.
Peculiar. 
Misfit.  
Not branded with these names by others, but by myself.  I had never learned how to make friends, and I wasn't sure I needed them anyhow.

I'm a thirty-day photo challenge dropout

With only one day left, I failed to rise to the challenge.  It's no big deal, but I thought I'd share the news.  The assignment for yesterday was "a self-portrait".  My readers know I am not scared to show my mug online, but I've done it so much.  I couldn't think of anything unique and fun to do with a picture of myself, so I passed.  
The photo challenge has been fun, and there are others I could start.  Maybe another time.  
Photographer David took enough pictures when he visited to keep him busy with photoshop for a long time to come.  Here's one he shared on Facebook.  It was in reply to a remark Meesha made about my remarkable Facebook skills:

Yesterday I finished the John Grisham book "A Time to Kill".  I think it's my favorite of all his books I've read, a real page-turner.  I found it interesting that it was his first published book, and was a huge flop, selling very few copies.  Then his next couple of books took off, and once he made a name for himself, this one started selling like hot cakes.  Cliff remembers seeing the movie based on the book, but he must have watched it without me.  As I told him last night, I prefer to read a book rather than watch a movie.  I read a review of the book that gives you an idea about what it's like:
  
This addictive tale of a young lawyer defending a black Vietnam war hero who kills the white druggies who raped his child in tiny Clanton, Mississippi, is John Grisham's first novel, and his favorite of his first six. He polished it for three years and every detail shines like pebbles at the bottom of a swift, sunlit stream. Grisham is a born legal storyteller and his dialogue is pitch perfect.

The plot turns with jeweled precision. Carl Lee Hailey gets an M-16 from the Chicago hoodlum he'd saved at Da Nang, wastes the rapists on the courthouse steps, then turns to attorney Jake Brigance, who needs a conspicuous win to boost his career. Folks want to give Carl Lee a second medal, but how can they ignore premeditated execution? The town is split, revealing its social structure. Blacks note that a white man shooting a black rapist would be acquitted; the KKK starts a new Clanton chapter; the NAACP, the ambitious local reverend, a snobby, Harvard-infested big local firm, and others try to outmaneuver Jake and his brilliant, disbarred drunk of an ex-law partner. Jake hits the books and the bottle himself. Crosses burn, people die, crowds chant "Free Carl Lee!" and "Fry Carl Lee!" in the antiphony of America's classical tragedy. Because he's lived in Oxford, Mississippi, Grisham gets compared to Faulkner, but he's really got the lean style and fierce folk moralism of John Steinbeck. --Tim Appelo

Now I'm starting "The Best Advice I Ever Got" by Katie Couric.  "Color Me English" is waiting in the wings.  

Another Craigslist sale... two, actually

 Cliff put the two little Olivers on Craigslist Saturday morning.  Within two hours they were sold, and I removed the ads.  Normally we won't do that until the money is in hand, but this man is practically royalty:  He's the vice-president of Central States Oliver Collectors, so Cliff knew he was good for the money.  He has about fifty Hart-Parr and Oliver tractors, but he didn't have a 550, and it's the featured tractor in this year's show.  He will send us pictures of it when he has it all prettied up.

What are they doing over there at the bench?  Can you read the words on his jacket?  If you can't, click on the picture to make it larger.

 Oh, it's a pile of money!  I love piles of money!

 He took the obligatory look at Cliff's prize 1855.

He told Cliff he has any kind of parts we might need for any Oliver tractor, at a much cheaper price than what the dealers ask.   

Goodbye, little tractors.  I really wanted to keep the 550, but I bet we'll run onto another one before long.  

My good days

I have been living my life hermit-like, away from people and away from crowds.  Cliff and I have kept to the same routine every day for a long time, and I have loved the sameness of our days.  I get out of bed in the morning thanking God that I can walk and see and hear (and I never forget to thank Him for coffee).   I can't even remember when I last had a bad day.  How many people can say that?  
Sitting in church yesterday, I saw what I've been missing without realizing it:  People!  
There's something about meeting with a group of people who have a common purpose.  I am once again part of something bigger than myself.
It is an awakening to hear the prayer requests and realize the world doesn't revolve around me, and that not everybody has had such a string of good days as I have.   
What's up with all the asthma these days?  How awful it must be to not be able to take a decent breath.  Several people at church are having problems with asthma, and this reminds me to also pray for Cliff's favorite aunt and his brother, Phil.
A six-year-old girl's cancer has returned.  Her grandmother also has been treated for cancer.   
In a small, local church I am surrounded by neighbors, some of whose frailties I know, and they know some of mine.  I am reminded that church is a place for faulty people like me.  A big church has better singing and often more powerful preaching, but if I sit in a pew feeling invisible, there is something valuable missing.  
I am once again part of the community, and it feels good!
After church yesterday Cliff, his sister, and I attended a fund-raiser dinner the boy scouts were hosting.  The meal was surprisingly delicious.  There was a huge turnout, over five hundred people (in a town with a population of 780). I saw on Facebook that they later ran out of food.  
To make a good day even better, in the afternoon my cousin Betty and her husband came to visit.  Betty and I reminisced about our childhood days, sharing memories of our grandma.  I wound up Grandma's old music box so she could hear it play, which of course brought a smile to her face.  We shared some quotes and sayings from Betty's dad, my Uncle Leo.  Examples:  "There are dumb people, but there are no dumb animals."  "Take the money from the rich people and give it to the poor, and in a year's time the money will be right back where it started."
Cliff and I were talking about how special those shared childhood memories can be, and it prompted him to call one of his cousins.  They were still talking when I went to bed an hour later.
See what I mean about good days?
    
   

Zoom in on Gratitude: 30 day challenge: LIGHT

LIGHT

This is Day 29 of the thirty day photo challenge.  Honestly, I'm going to miss it.

The things I do not blog about

While I try my best to be honest on my blog, my readers don't know everything that goes on around here.  I keep many things hidden, as much for the benefit of others as for myself.  If I think some activity would be upsetting to my readers, I keep it to myself, within reason, of course.  I realize the fact that we butcher and eat animals that we have raised from birth bothers some people, but I am not going to hide the fact that we do it.  I grew up watching my mother butcher a couple of chickens almost every Saturday so we'd have a good Sunday dinner.  It's the most natural thing in the world to me.  
Animals are more dispensable around here than they are to city folks.  This is sometimes a necessity in the country.  I alluded to one of the darker aspects of this fact of life when David was visiting, and he said, "Don't blog about it!"  
Trust me, I wouldn't.  I've spent years following Pioneer Woman's blog, and I've seen city folks criticize her for pictures of her husband and the hired hands roping calves and castrating them.  When people criticize Ree Drummond, they do it in a BIG way.  I have seen whole blogs dedicated to bashing her.    
My husband butchered for over twenty years.  It may seem like a cruel way of making a living, but until the whole world becomes vegetarian, somebody has to do it, .  One thing Cliff always made sure of, though, was that the animal died instantly and without pain.  He is the one who put Blue down for me, and when he was finished with the task, said, "He never knew what hit him."
My family could tell you about various things I don't include in my blog, and not all of them have anything to do with animals.  Sometimes I'm just avoiding the judgement of others.    
When I take pictures in the house, I sometimes crop them so you don't see certain things:  clutter on the end table, for instance.  Or I'll pick things up hastily so people don't see what a lousy housekeeper I am.  If that's dishonest, so be it.   
If you have thought of me as totally honest, loving, and hard-working, I'm just letting you know that this tarnished angel flies pretty darned close to the ground.  
Moving on:  I had another wonderful day yesterday.  Great-granddaughter Kami spent several hours with me while my daughter and her girls went to the beauty shop.  This is the first time she's been here alone with me, and it was great fun.  I held the camera at arms length and took this picture.

Isn't she beautiful?

We read all the "Spot" books, ate bananas and PBJ sandwiches, and watched some kid TV shows.  
Good times.  Things I can blog about.
  
(How about the fact that I am wearing the same sweatshirt two days in a row and it's on my blog for all the world to see?)

Zoom in on Gratitude: 30 day challenge: NIGHTTIME

NIGHTTIME

Is there anything more comforting than knowing you have, at night, a warm and comfortable place to sleep?


This is Day 28 of the thirty day photo challenge.

We had a great day yesterday

We met David, the guy who entertains me and my readers by photoshopping my header pictures.  We went for a walk in the pasture.  It was such a nice day I ended up taking my coat off and carrying it, which is why I'm holding onto my coat in this picture.  

Cliff fooled around with David's fancy-schmancy camera.  

While he was laughing, I was thinking, "What if he drops that thing?  We can't afford to pay for it!"   

I normally don't aim my camera in the direction of that abandoned house in the background, but it was too much trouble to explain it, so there you have it.  
David says he'll be back when the grass and trees are green.  You can see lots of his pictures on his blog, Hyperblogal.  
He said after following my blog for so long, it was interesting to see all the things he's seen me telling about.  
See you next time, David.  

Zoom in on Gratitude: 30 day challenge: Daily routine

DAILY ROUTINE

coffee first

Drink my first cup of coffee and read the Bible and say a little prayer.

Go to the computer until Cliff yells that he's awake

Take Cliff his coffee in bed

Then we have our oatmeal or cream of wheat or cereal.  He surfs the Internet on his laptop and I go back to my computer for awhile.

Time for our daily walk in the pasture

Back from our walk, I give Jody (10 months old) her daily portion of grain.

While I'm in the barn, I feed the cats.  Mama Kitty, my favorite, is the one closest to the camera.

I vacuum often.  Most of the contents of the Dyson consists of dog hair... thank you, Iris.

I read... usually on the Nook, but sometimes when the library is slow getting me something to read, I read a real book.

At noon, we eat dinner.  Sorry, no picture.

I often take a nap in my recliner after dinner.

This takes you up to about 1 P.M.  The rest of the day is equally exciting (not), so I won't bore you with details.  Today there was some departure from the normal daily routine.  

That crazy Kansas City photographer came to visit.  He's the one who messes around with so many of my everyday pictures and turns them into something wild and crazy.  I love meeting my Internet friends!


This is Day 27 of the thirty day photo challenge.