Thursday Thoughts

Hallmark Holidays
I have mixed feelings about both Mothers’ Day and Fathers’ Day. I, of course, am so happy to be a mother, but I must admit that each Mothers’ Day when the priest at Mass asks mothers to stand for a blessing, I get a bit sad for the women who don’t stand who wish they could be (or could have been) mothers. Perhaps they should just give the blessing without having us stand. Having said all of that, we had a wonderful Fathers’ Day spent with two of the three people who call Bill Dad. The third lives in Vermont, and would undoubtedly have been there if she were a millionaire and could afford to fly to Denver at a whim. He got a much-desired baseball glove and a card signed by his grandkids. Later on in the day, Court, Kaiya and Mylee Facetimed him to wish him a happy Fathers’ Day. All-in-all, a good day…..

Bill, McLains card

 

Fathers Day 2016 (2)

Fresh Paint
I’ve written on this blog that we have gone more than 23 years without painting much of our house. This summer we are determined to paint all of the rooms that are so desperately in need of sprucing up. So this past weekend, I picked out my color, and Bill and I painted the room which I use as my office…..

Bill painting

I actually did some of the painting too, though Bill admittedly did the bulk of the work, as usual. But I did some of the rolling, which took a lot more strength than I had anticipated. For the most part, my life is not challenged by the arthritis I have in my hands and wrists, but I will admit that it impacted my ability to paint a whole bunch. I love the way it turned out. Next, our guest room.

Scooting
I won’t lie. One of the best things about summer for me is that I can ride my scooter. It’s one of the first things I ask Bill to do when we get back to Denver and the temperatures are warming up – get my scooter started. He’s got it down to a science these days. He charges up the battery, and then has some kind of spray something-or-other that results in the scooter starting after only a few attempts. I used to drive my scooter all the way to my office downtown, but now I mostly scoot around the neighborhood. I almost always take it to the grocery store. The box on back fits more than you would think, but I must admit I occasionally have the need to put something between my feet. Once I had a case of Corona between my feet on the scooter. Luckily, I don’t have far to drive. I’m pretty sure the police wouldn’t have been thrilled for all sorts of reasons.

Kris scooter 2016

 Camping
All four of Dave’s and Jll’s kids are up at camp this week. It’s pretty quiet around the neighborhood, and exceptionally quiet at their house. Alastair has been gone since school got out. He literally got on a plane the afternoon of his last school day and flew to Montana, where he went RV camping with his Aunt Julie for a week. He got home, slept in his bed one night, and then left for Boy Scout camp. He got home from that, spent another night in his own bed, and left for this camp on the afternoon of Fathers’ Day. I asked him that morning how he felt about leaving again and spending another week sleeping in a tent. “I love it,” he said. That made me happy, but I will tell you that I would have missed my mommy when I was little. Golly, I was such a mommy’s girl.

Ciao.

Thursday Thoughts

Kris ScooterBuzzing Around
We’re still getting rain nearly every day, and sometimes really hard rain. But we’re also getting some sunshine in between. That brings me joy for many reasons, not the least of which is that it means I can drive my scooter all around the neighborhood. And that makes me very happy. Because I like to take it to the grocery store, I have learned to fit a lot of groceries into the box on the back of my scooter. Inevitably it doesn’t all fit, so then I have to clip the bag to the front of my seat and balance it between my legs. To date, the largest things I’ve had to carry this way was a hanging flowering plant and a case of Corona beer. Not at the same time. The other day when I pulled up to the store, there was another scooter parked at the bike rack where I leave mine. The owner was just pulling out as I came out of the store. To my surprise, it was an older man (about my age), who looked as though he loved his scooter every bit as much as I love mine!

Stingy
Bill has a friend named John who barters nearly every purchase. Well, maybe not a pack of gum. But he has been known to barter a roast beef. He’s my haggling hero. I took him with me to buy my yellow bug, and we got a smokin’ deal. Anyhoo, yesterday I channeled John as I went into Best Buy to purchase a dishwasher. Bill and I have been looking at this dishwasher for over a month, maybe two. It’s a Bosch floor model. The dishwasher purportedly retails for something like $780, and it was discounted to $580. Sure, there is a little smudge on the front, but Bill assured me he can make that go away. So yesterday I drove — all by myself — to Best Buy. I sat for about 10 minutes in the parking lot rehearsing and giving myself a pep talk. Don’t apologize. Don’t seem timid. Be ready to walk away if they aren’t willing to deal. You can do it, Kris. Go Kris, go! I walked in and found the dishwasher still sitting where it’s been sitting for at least a month-and-a-half. I young fellow asked if he could help me. I told him I was interested in the dishwasher. “Sweet,” he said, because he was probably 19 years old. I went on to tell him that I had been watching the dishwasher for a very long time, and was willing to take it off his hands for $500. “Sweet,” he said again. “Let me call my manager.” Shortly his manager appeared, and he explained the situation. “She will buy it today for $500,” he said. The manager immediately said, “Ok,” and turned around to leave. “Sweet,” the salesman said. Damn, I thought. I wanted to yell to her, “I meant $400!” but didn’t. Still, I am woman, hear me roar. Sweet.

Sleepless in Denver
I’m preparing for my first sleepover of the summer on Friday. Oh, don’t get me wrong; I’m not sleeping away from home. Kaiya and Mylee are sleeping over at Nana and Papa’s. I’m always reluctant about sleepovers. Please understand, the kids are always good, down to the last grandchild. But it doesn’t matter, because I am awake all night listening for the sleepoverees to wake up or cry out from a bad dream. They don’t, but I’m ready if they do, by golly. And then I spend the next day recovering. But seeing their happy faces and little sleepover bags when they arrive at my door makes it all worthwhile. That, and the way they enjoy my chocolate chip pancakes in the morning.

Why, Oh Why
When I finally make my way to the Pearly Gates, I’m going to have a lot of questions to ask God. One of them will be what’s up with moths. Every summer about this time I find them everywhere. Especially in the morning when I open my blinds and/or windows. They are just so DUMB. And annoying. But they are part of God’s plan, so I can’t wait to find out just what part they play. And I certainly hope the two I killed this morning don’t have an important role, because they are squished to moth dust.

Ciao!