My readers have stories and comments

I doubt if many folks read the comment section here on the blog.  As I've said before, I share the link of each new entry on Facebook: one time I put the link to my entire blog on Facebook and told them to save it so I could quit posting individual entries, but people wanted a reminder.  They told me they kept forgetting to check the blog for new content.  It feels like pure vanity, sharing each entry, but I bow to public opinion (this time).

Speaking of vanity, I posted one of those meme things on Facebook because it made me smile.  I even wrote sort of a disclaimer with it: "Honestly, I have a feeling I’m probably not a big topic of conversation in anybody’s agenda. Nevertheless, this makes me smile... and yes, feel free to add to anything you MIGHT hear about me."   Here's the picture:

Now, we don't get out and mingle with the community often, so except for one particular piece of prized gossip we won't mention, I don't picture a lot of folks talking about me good or bad, with the exception of relatives, who let me hear them when they talk about my weirdness.  I'm sharing these comments because I want you to see the responses, which flatter me, but are vastly exaggerated.  

The second commenter is Cliff's 90-year-old aunt.  By the way, she has never said a word to me about ironing Cliff's clothes; it's just that I know where she stands, and it's on the side of women ironing their husbands' clothes.  So I had a little fun with her there.  If he'd get no-iron pants, there's be no problem, right?  Ironing is against my religion.  And Aunt Gertrude's love is unconditional.  

There are four ladies in the group I've never met face to face:  Amy, Becky, Penny, and Donna.  I ran across all of them, I believe, when they had AOL blogs/journals.  The others are Internet friends I've met in person, except for Velma:  She saw to it that Cliff got hired where she worked, the company that retired him.  I think she feels I'm so great because the first winter after Cliff started there, I wrote her quite a long, heartfelt letter letting her know we appreciated her putting in a good word for him, and detailing to her the positive changes in our lives due to his new job.  I know her well enough to realize she is a sweetheart.  Back when I raised lots of tomatoes, I would call her to come and get the last green tomatoes at the end of season so she could make green tomato pickles.  There are three ladies in this "Donna's Fan Club" I met in person at various times:  Joanna, who had me spend a week with her and took me to many historic places in Washington, DC.  Ora and I attended several "chat room reunions" together; and Nancy and her husband were here at my place when I had a chat reunion locally.  None of them have spent enough time with me to experience my coarser side... or maybe they didn't notice.  But I love them each and every one.

As far as I know, the only thing I do that might inspire such wonderful praise is this:  I do my utmost to post positive things, both here and on Facebook.  There's too much bad news in the world, and many people are hurting.  They don't need to see me posting about my arthritic knees or the stiff neck that kept me from sleeping well last night or what a terrible situation the world is in.  I don't touch politics, except for sharing funny cartoons from both parties in Messenger, with friends of whatever party will think it's funny.  The two parties left me a long time ago.  If you want to hear all that mess, turn on the news and get off Facebook.  If I see something that might brighten just one person's day or make them laugh, I'll post it.  But folks, I'm no saint.  Sometimes grandchildren tiptoe around me, that's how bad it can get.

Now let me share a couple of stories from yesterday's comment section of my blog:  First, Marlene.

   Here’s my Walmart story: Hubby and I went food shopping yesterday at Walmart. The best checkout line was behind a Dad and his little boy in the baby seat. Little guy was maybe two, and still sucking on a pacifier. I am always friendly to, but not a big fan of other people’s kids. Sometimes I will just wrinkle my nose at them to let them know I am friendly. This little guy was a happy little tyke, and his Daddy said his name is Joseph. “Hi Joseph, how are you?” He answered by breaking out in song and making big gestures with his arms. “I know that song,”. I said. “ Baby Shark, Baby Shark.” This little guy and I together went through the whole baby shark, Mommy shark, daddy shark, although he never changed his gesture from the daddy shark. They really don’t get it do they,? I said to Dad. We had a good laugh, and as they were leaving I said now what’s the chances of getting in line with an old lady who knows the Baby Shark Song. All the way to the door, Joseph was yelling “Bye” and still singing Baby Shark.  

This is Rita's story:  I like to be cheerful when I am out and about and I too am an introvert. I speak to everyone and anyone. It doesn't matter race, gender or age. I always wonder if God didn't put us together for just a moment for some reason, so why not cheer someone up or make them smile? I went to the grocery store one Sunday morning and was being cheerful, smiling and greeting people, in a soft, quiet way, not loud and boisterous. One woman was walking around the store waiting for me and asked me if I could give her something to eat. Where we were was very close to several places to get free meals, but for some reason she decided she would work me. I pulled off a banana, gave it to her and went on my way. I felt a little used, but I hope, used of, by or for God.

I have worked on this entry for about three hours, what with all the copying and pasting and making italics.  It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it.  Oh, and I was just ready to post this thing when I realized those Facebook comments had everybody's full name, and I'm sure not all of them would have appreciated that.  So I deleted the pictures of comments, send the pictures to my iPad, and used my new Apple pencil to cover everything but their first names.  I'm sure there's a faster way to do that, but I'm no guru.

This seems to be a one-topic entry, rather than a letter.  But I'll still use my letter-style closing because I like it.  

Sincerely, Donna