I just read an email from yet another of my geriatric set, about the joys of growing old. Not in that picture today. My sponsor calls this the fuds. Yeah. Well, it is raining, and although the powers that be gave me back that hour they so rudely usurped last spring, an eager newcomer woke me up at 8 AM, thinking it was 9 AM, and I had not slept well during the downpour in the wee hours. So, not a happy camper here. Yet, as I gaze through the blinds at the front yard, it does look rather festive, decorated as it is with golden leaves on the now greened-up psuedo-lawn. And I will go fetch that newcomer at 1:30 to ferry her to the 2 PM meeting, because that is what we do, help the alcoholic who is suffering. Must be hell to not have a car in this weather. So, grateful for my Jolie, little black puddle-jumper that she is. And I will pull on my boots and look tres sophisticated in the skinny jeans that fit again. And I am thinking of having lunch out at the new In and Out that opened where the old Lyon's was torn down. I watched it rise from the ashes, as it were, wondering if it was yet another County bureaucracy, and thrilled to find it not. Actually, maybe I will put the fuds on the back burner, and sojourn over to TJMax to paw through the racks for a while. That always bucks me up. Or I could consider painting my walls pink, as in this photo that got taken when I accidentally put a pink filter on. Don't know which button to push to do that again, but it was fun while it lasted.
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