Weeds or Wildflowers?

 On our long walks throughout town, we sometimes stop by our old house. It's always to check on it, make sure the windows are closed and the doors are locked. RT notes if the lawn needs a trim and I notice the weeds.

The problem with picking weeds is I can't just stop at one. I pick multiple. Sometimes I have to be told to stop. 

As we were leaving the property after one of our walks, I was clutching a bundle of weeds. RT said, "Some people pick wildflowers, my wife picks weeds."

*This was before our house sold

Greg

 A couple of years ago it was brought to my attention that we needed a golf cart. I did not realize that there was this need, I mean, we have cars, bikes and feet. Why do we have to buy another vehicle to get around town? Is it worth it to buy a golf cart? Will we use it or will it be one more thing in our garage?

We live in a small beach town. Beautiful all year round, golf cart accessible about three quarters of the year (or less) depending on the weather.

Research was done along with lots of combing through Marketplace listings until we found Greg. Yes, we named our golf cart.

Greg loves taking short rides to the beach. He also enjoys discovering the neighborhood. A quick trip downtown for dinner or a coffee/tea. Greg is easy going and down for anything.

The first year, the young child took Greg to work. He even went with her when she had an assignment with the local paper. They became quite close. Many trips to the beach and the local Wesco for that weird snack craving. 

Greg winters inland at RT's shop. It's always a sad day when it's time for Greg to go on his winter holiday.

I have noticed on my morning drives to work that the weather is starting to get a little cooler. I bundle up in the morning because with the wind and openness of Greg, it makes for a chilly drive to work. I have been known to drive recklessly down these streets. Always remember to hang on if I'm driving. And, yes, I'm the crazy woman flying down the streets in the fall just trying to make it to work. 

Soon, we will be sending Greg off on holiday. It's always sad to see him go, but he definitely deserves a long rest after his months of hard work.

The Post Office

It has been brought to my attention that I might be obsessed with the post office.

This all started with one of my many my announcement that I was going to the post office. My family thinks I go all of the time. They wonder what I do there. Why do I have such a need to always visit the post office?

In my defense, we had a P.O. Box set up when we moved here. I have tried to get rid if it but it seems "someone" is having a problem notifying companies of our current address. I get emails from the post office* letting me know there is mail. I even get a photo of the letters! Along with visiting the p.o. box I do enjoy sending out cards, letters and small packages to friends and family. I do sell things online that I need to ship. And, hey, it's only a few blocks from my house.

Personally, I don't think that I am ALWAYS at the post office. I probably visit more than the average person. I live in a small town and the postal workers are quite friendly here.

I do have a confession to make. I've always wanted to work at the post office for a day just to see the amount of mail that passes through and how it gets sorted. Long enough to see the operations but short enough so I don't go postal. 

The other day I was rushing out the door. RT was asking me where I was going. I said, "For a walk." When I came back home, I had to confess that I went to the post office. RT said that I am starting to hide my numerous post office visits.

Maybe I do need an intervention?

Do you like going to the post office? 

How often do you go to the post office?

*OK, maybe I am a little attached to the postal system.

Do you remember?

Do you remember

The 21st night of September

Love was changing the minds of pretenders

While chasing the clouds away

The song, "September," by Earth, Wind and Fire has become a national anthem for September 21st. The song originally came out in November 1978. With a little boost from Tik Tok in 2025, you can find the song playing on various social media outlets, giving the song another spike in mainstream attention.

"September," has no hidden meaning. The band says the date just sounded good when singing the song. Some people believe the song refers to the autumnal equinox. In 2019, Maurice White's wife, Marilyn, says she felt a personal attachment to the song because her son was due on September 21st. The "Ba-dee-ya" that you hear in the refrain? That was inspired by Brazilian scat singing style that the band loved to listen to and use as vocal placeholders.

Whether it was a musical choice, a seasonal reference or a personal memory, it became a musical hit. 

This is the one day where there are multiple texts sent between our family members asking, "Do you remember?" The song, "September," is either played and/or sung throughout the day, leading into a big dance party at some point.

Do you remember the 21st night of September? 

Are you going to belt out the lyrics to "September" today?

Hey, hey, hey

Ba-dee-ya, say, do you remember?

Ba-dee-ya, dancing in September

Ba-dee-ya, never was a cloudy day

Blue Pants

 Growing up, my dad always wore blue pants. In fact, his work or personal "uniform" was blue pants with a white button down short sleeve shirt. Didn't matter what time of year, it was always the same every day. At work. At home. They weren't just an ordinary pair of blue pants, they were work pants. 

My dad's wardrobe consisted of multiple pairs of these pants and shirts. I guess it made getting ready in the morning easier when you wear the same thing. It also made it easy to find him because you know what he is wearing. I have yet to figure out if this was crazy or pure genius.

It has been hard for me over the years to wear blue pants without thinking they look like work pants. For the longest time, I couldn't even let RT wear navy pants.

This morning, as I was getting ready for work, I put on a pair of blue pants. Unknowingly, I grabbed a white t-shirt. When I went downstairs for breakfast I realized I looked like my dad. Well, more like I was dressed like him. RT complimented the pants choice and said, "they look good." I tried to explain that all I see is my dad's clothing choices.

Is there an article of clothing you don't wear because of childhood trauma?

 I was at our old house and picked some of my kale growing in the garden. I came home and made a soup using the kale. I immediately realized I have become my grandmother.

My grandmother would visit us and pick grape leaves in our yard. She would then make dolmades (Greek stuffed grape leaves) for us using the leaves she picked. 

If I start to wander onto other peoples property and do this, RT might have to reign me in a little or explain that it is hereditary.

Do you pick random plants and make a meal out of them?

Naked Barbies

 I must really want to bring the traffic with that title! 

I have mentioned in previous posts about my journey wading through my storage locker. Trying to go through the boxes and get rid of what we don't need. It's not the quantity of stuff, more like the quantity of memories the items hold.

My recent unearthing was a Barbie box. Barbies, clothes, Kens, furniture, tiny shoes. As I am going through the box I realized that all of the Barbies are naked. I started thinking back to my child playing Barbies and recall the dolls were left naked. Was Barbie not digging the outfit she was wearing at the end if playtime? Does she feel more comfortable in the box when she is naked? Do the Barbies mind hanging out together when they are naked? Do we need to stage an intervention to get Barbie to start wearing clothes?

Did you play Barbies when you were young?

If yes, did you leave your Barbies naked?