My friends keep turning 40, and I keep missing their birthday bashes! Third one in as many years, I missed tonight, no thanks to the crummy weather. On an “up” note, at least I’m not the one turning 40. (jk, GF—HB2U, and I’ll get your gift to you ASAP)
On another up note, a sunny pot-o-daffodils is bloomin’ in my kitchen. Nothing says “Scram” to the dead-of-winter doldrums like a bouquet of forced bulbs. (thx, D1)
I’m still waiting for the birds. No takers yet on the yummy seeds, nor the sumptuous suet I hung on our repurposed Tannenbaum a few days ago. Am I supposed to advertise somehow?
Lastly, “I have a cavity in my upper bicuspid”—really! I’m not just quoting Michael Douglas in The American President. (Does anyone else sometimes fold laundry to that flick?) Found today, filled tomorrow. Lucky me—someone cancelled, leaving Doc H with an 8:40 opening in his chair. Seriously, after seeing Castaway a half-dozen times, I’m pretty-darn-grateful for access to dental care that doesn’t involve an ice skate.
Ciao for now! ~ Grace
1 comment:
Sorry about the cavity, but I'm totally with you on the Castaway thing! Just thinking about that scene makes me shudder...isn't modern dentistry wonderful?
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