We Can't Predict What Lies Ahead

but, meteorologists like to try.

and today's weather prediction is--a high of 65!

Last week, Merle, Pearl and their daughter Margie cleaned out the storage unit.  Margie took most of the stuff up to her unit and is going to sell it through the Face Book garage sales we have around here.  I told Margie, "You just wait.  The minute you sell your Mom's canning supplies, she is going to see a bushel of tomatoes at the Farmer's Market and want to can them."

I noticed Monday, on Face Book that Margie had the canning supplies listed for sale.  All for $25.00.  They sold within minutes.  

Pearl was here this morning.

"I did a lot of running around yesterday.  Turned in the lock and key to the storage unit place--now we don't have that fifty-five dollars a month.  I went and got my Mammogram.  Then I went grocery shopping with Merle.  I'm hurting so bad!"

"I saw on Face Book that Margie is selling some of the stuff."

"Did you see that?  She sold all my canning stuff....twenty-five dollars!  My canner, the tongs, the little magnet thing that picks up the lids out of the hot water....and....eight boxes of jars and lids...only twenty-five dollars!  If I had known that was all she was going to ask, I'd kept them myself!"

"Well, you don't really need all that stuff."

"I was telling Merle last night that I wish I had them back.  I want to go to the Farmer's Market Saturday.  I'd like to can a dozen quarts of tomatoes and some Bread and Butter pickles.  Now I can't--she sold everything!"

"Pearl...you can't stand on your feet long enough to do that.  Where would you store all those quart jars?"

"I used to can thirty quarts of tomatoes and dill pickles and meat sauce and......"

"Yes...so did I.  'Used to' is the operative word here.  We can't do it anymore and we don't need to do it anymore.  Take the twenty-five dollars and go buy cans of tomatoes and some Bread and Butter pickles."

She got up and walked back out on my porch and came back in carrying a box and presented it to me.

<no---please, I don't want this>

Remember when I told you a couple of years ago, she ordered this off the infomercial on TV.  She got one and another one free--of course the shipping and handling on the free one was as such as the cost of the paid one.

"I brought this for you.  I thought, being just one person, you could cook a lot of your meals in it and not have to heat up the stove.  It's brand new.  Never been used."

"Well--thanks."

"Look through those recipes.  You can make a lot of stuff.  Omelets, mini pizzas, little cinnamon rolls.  When  you make the Cinni-Minis, make some for me, okay?"

We chatted a bit and then she trotted home.

I do not want this thing!!!  I will never use it!!  I have no place to store it!  <well, I do, but I don't want it>

I opened up the box and pulled it out and there it was---no pans that fit inside, no special spatula.  No nothing--just the unit.

Now what?
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Jean left a comment yesterday about my sea shell lamp.  I thought I'd give you the story behind it.

On one of our golf junkets to Myrtle Beach, SC., when we all walked into the motel lobby, my sister-in-law turned and said, "Judy, look at the lamps over there by the couch.  You would love one of those."

I looked and moved in closer to inspect them and yes...I would love one of those.  Ginger Jar shape, clear and...filled with beautiful sea shells!!!!

As the week progressed, in between golfing, the ladies loved to go shopping at the different stores in the area.  I usually stayed back at the motel and spent that time walking the ocean's edge--looking for and collecting shells.  One day, they were going to some sort of outlet, so I went along.  A huge store--we walked and walked and walked.

I was in the area where the furniture was and lo and behold--you guessed it.  They had the very same sea shell lamps for sale.  

One hundred and seventy-five dollars and for another twenty-five, they would pack it and ship it to your home!

Now--this was in 1978.  Two hundred dollars just wasn't spent on a lamp.  Oh---he could spend a thousand dollars on a whole new set of golf clubs, a hundred dollars on shoes and all that, but.....I knew there was no way I could get him to spend two hundred dollars on a lamp.

That night, as we sat around a big round table for supper, one of the girls told my husband about the lamp.  How I was "lusting" over it and that he should buy it for me.

All the guys just laughed, as did he.  "You women, always finding someway to spend our money!" one guy said.

The next day, I went back to that outlet and did buy a smaller, bedside table sea shell lamp, it only cost twenty-five dollars.  I didn't have to pay to have it shipped home, I just packed it in the back of the Motor Home we all had ridden down in.

Fast forward to 1992.  I was divorced (twice) and living with my friend Ernie in Saginaw.  Ernie had noticed the smaller lamp, as I had it sitting on my bedside table and I told him the story of the other lamp.

One Monday night, near dark, I had just hauled the garbage and the recycle out to the curb, when Ernie came busting down the street.

"Quick.  Get in the truck."

I hopped it and he turned and went back up the street he had just come down, up to the corner, did a U-turn and stopped the truck.  The headlights shining on a pile set out for the garbage men and there was--THE LAMP!

Now, this was before the day when people drive by and if they see something of ours sitting out for garbage pick-up and they want it, they stop and pick it up.

Ernie said, "Do you want it?"

"I wonder if it's broken."

So, he stealthily got out of the truck, ran up, grabbed the lamp and brought it back and off we went, back home.

We took it in the house.  The shade was ripped and torn--discard that.  The glass was not cracked or broken.  It had a three-way socket, but the cord was cut in two pieces.

"No problem!"  which was one of Ernie's favorite phrases.

He re-wired the lamp, I got a new shade for it and polished it up and voila'.

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This late afternoon, I was outside, filling up the bird feeders when I glanced to my left and saw something.  A different plant growing next to one of my Hosta's.  Then, it dawned on me what it was.  Last Christmas I bought an Amaryllis, on sale.  The dang thing never even put up a leaf, let alone blossom.  In March, I dug a hole and stuck it in the garden.  Well--lookie here--it is sending up leaves.  Weird.

As I was coming back inside, I heard screaming and yelling from Tami's house.  My first thought was that Ron had another heart attack and dropped over dead.  I walked a bit faster, but when I got to the front steps, the screaming and yelling was now outside.  Tami wasn't screaming ABOUT Ron, Tami was screaming AT Ron.  I sort of slithered up the steps and into the house and peeked out my window.

She was standing on the front porch in some sort of huge rage--screaming, swearing--"I don't deserve this f****** s***. "

Then she picked up her big plastic garbage pail and hurled it up against the open front door.  Still screaming and yelling obscenities, she stormed off the porch, threw something in the back seat of her car, slammed the door, went around and got in, slammed that door and backed out of the drive.

Then, all of a sudden, she drove back in again, slam, slam the door, up on the porch, picked up the garbage pail and threw it out onto the lawn, still screaming and yelling obscenities at him.  Then back to the car.  Got in slam, slam again, backed out and peeled--I mean peeled rubber off her tires as she sped away.

I heard not one word from him--which is not unusual, he is very quiet, but Tami was, typical Tami.

I guess the self professed "star crossed soul mate vampires" aren't quite as happy as they put on?  Of course, it was daylight and that does disturb vampires, so.............................