When is stuff.."stuff" and other important inquiries..

Every year, and every day in between, I am on a quest to be more organized.

So far, not so good.

I mean, I think it would be easier to be organized if say, I were...Amish. Or colorblind. Or...normal.

However, I am none of the aforementioned.

What I am is:

Recovering-Irish-Catholic-Recycling-repurposing-reusing-procrastinating-Democrat-living-in-a-Republican-Mormon-Clean-and-Organized-state..

I am soooo not Amish..or simple..or easy..or..normal.

I have much too much in a much too little space. And I love it.... all. Except the dis-organization.

And actually, I have a problem deciding what to call the... items..

There's 'stuff'' and there's 'junk' and there's 'things' and, according to Mr. B, there's "all your sh--.".uh..more stuff.

So, I have 3.. uh.. 4 files in my filing cabinet:

Things
Junk
Stuff
Misc.

And, when I see my things, I see them in these categories, I really do.

"Things" are the best..

"Junk" is what I use/can use/might someday use/probably will use/maybe use/ in my art..

"Stuff" is what I don't want to loose..

..and "misc" is, well, everything else.

Bet you're wondering where I file my bank statement, bills, etc, huh.

I don't. Tried it. Once. Failed miserably.

Just didn't hold my attention. So Mr. B does them ..and I don't know nor do I want to know. Kinda like all that car stuff..nah. Not so much.

So do you have any earth-shattering, new ideas on organizing and purging....

.. and becoming Amish??

If you do, let me know. And send pictures. I am a visual learner. And I might just want to file them under...uh..

??

Oh, and today I had......

When you try to fool yourself..

..be very careful.

I have tried tricks all my life to fool myself..and I'm usually pretty good at fooling myself. I can be pretty darn tricky as a matter of fact.

However, sometimes I'm pretty darn hard to trick. I mean, I wasn't born yesterday..didn't just fall off of the 'ol turnip truck..where exactly did that expression come from? Do they really truck turnips? Loose?

Shouldn't they be in crates?

hmm - let's go with the "Not born yesterday" thing:

Idiom Definitions for 'Not born yesterday'

When someone says that they weren't born yesterday, they mean that they are not naive or easily fooled.

OK, so the 'tricking myself' subject. My sister, Sister Kathleen Mary, the non-nun, remember her?

Yeah..that one. Well, so told me once before to try using a baby spoon to eat, especially really really good things that you want to last. {That was the tricking part..to think I'm having lots more..yeeeeah..}

Do you have any idea how long it takes to eat a peanut butter, mayonnaise and bologna sandwich with a baby spoon? Forget the half-hour lunches for me, KnoWhutImean,Vern? {remember him?}

What I could never figure out was he Vern... or Ernest? And who was he talking to?

So, after about an hour eating 1/4 cup of some really great ice cream with the baby pink spoon - I decide to hand wash it.

Not something I usually do.

If it can't go in the dishwasher, the microwave or it has to be ironed, fed or shod, I don't buy it. But this was different.

It was for my eating plan...

So, I fill my deep sink with hot, hot water and lots of suds..scrub the spoon...rinse in hot, hot water..

The pink tip is gone..the soft pink cover-tip thingy on the spoon? To protect little gums? Only the white spoon is there..

Where's the pink top? I rummage through the hot water {Yikes! That's h.o.t.} and nothing.

No pink soft plastic spoon-tip thingy.

Crap - don't want it to go down the disposal, so I veeeery carefully let out the water...slowly, slowly..

nothing.

Think..think..think..

So now I've put my glasses on and am looking all around the floor..the counter..in the disposal {!}...the drain basket..no pink soft spoon-tip thingy ..anywhere.

But just about then, I look at the baby spoon on the table...and the pink soft spoon-tip thingy is...

DA DUH DA DUH {que Jaws theme song}

on. the. spoon.

OK, seems it's one of those 'temperature-controlled-safety-coated-heat-activated-turns-white-when-too-hot-for-baby..spoons.

Coulda told me that in the first place, donchathink??

Hey, I used ot be six..

..and now Ella is six..

And that just can't be.

Seriously.  She was just a little baby..like yesterday..

..the she was one..2, 3, 4, 5 then, yeah,six.

...and she's loosing teeth faster than me.

Pretty soon she'll be in braces, like Emily..

..then getting her driver's license like Alyssa.

You do know I've explained to all of them that if they want to get older , that's their choice.  As for me, their Grammie, I'm staying 60 going 12, thankyouverymuch.

So, Happy Birthday, Ella, and I wish I could have been there for you on Friday, when you turned...

SIX!

                                        

Grammie & Papa love you

to the moon...

Slow Saturday..

Late walk with Braxton & Lulu..

Late lunch with Mr. B..

Late night with Lulu sleeping on the couch and me watching {actually just listening to} TV..

Hey, has anyone ordered from Gooseberry Patch?  I received some really cute things on waaaay sale:

This a cute little sign that Mr. B got me for Christmas - I jusy love it..

I'm a huge fan now and with the Clearance prices, well, what's a girl to do.
So, slowly say good-night and have sweet, sweet dreams.

So, a waist is a terrible thing to mind..

..and a mind is a terrible thing to waste.

And lately, I've done both.

By-gones.

Hey, I just realized if you hold your wireless mouse upside down, like with it's tail where it's nose should be, it goes all wacky. You think it's gone berserk..until you realize it's upside down..then it's OK..

So there I am in Arizona with my sisters and my niece comes to see her Mom. She's a great niece. I have quite a few great nieces..not that they are my GREAT nieces..although I do have several of those as well..

..great nieces..as in daughters of my nieces..I should form a group..like the D.A.R. - Daughters of the American Revolution. .

But mine would be the D.O.M.N. - Daughters of My Nieces..

And as my niece, she is younger than I. Although my Dad was an Uncle before he was born. Long story..big Irish-Catholic family ....it's always a joy to hear her thoughts..and to realize she's sooo much smarter than I..

Soooo smart. And funny. Deadly combination. Quick. And a great story-teller. Another Irish trait.

Anyway, she was saying people tend to put you into a box of sorts when they first meet you. And no matter how old you get, unless something big or serious happens, you are what they remember in the box. It's their reality.

So, to some, my sisters and I are the debutant, the cowgirl and the 10 year old. Not hard to figure out who's who, huh..

And they'd be pretty spot-on. But truth be known, the debutant has seen her share of pain, the cowgirl can cry and the 10 year old ...well, she's pretty much still a brat.

But, my niece went on to say, the box can change..or maybe expand, and sometimes much to the delight, if not surprise, of those who've seen us in 'the box' all our lives. Or all of their lives, whichever is longer..

So, what box are you seen in? And, do you agree? And if so, is it a bad box? Do you want to change boxes? maybe..

Boy, my mind is sore. Too much thinking.

Must have started today when I told my friends at work my Mother-in-Law visited her son, Mr. B {v 2.0} in Bangladesh.

No, she didn't. It was Budapest.

Waaaay different.

Well, could be an easy mistake -

3 syllables Bang-la-desh and Bu-da-pest.

Both begin with the letter B..

And both require air travel to get to. And a passport.

Oh, and I gained 3 pounds in one month. Bad choices. Good cookies. By-gones.

So, think some deep thoughts..then get a really good cookie and have a fun week-end..10 year old style.