What Month Is It?

(This happened on the morning of December 1st, 2020)

I went downstairs to put some paintings in storage for Christmas gifts.

Said, “Hi” to the Husband, working in his office.

He very seriously stated, while looking at the calendar on the wall, “Today is the first day of September.”

I stared at him for a second.

Was he messing with me?  Or did he wishfully think we had more time in this year 2020?  

I tried not to laugh and asked, “September?”

He suddenly realized what he’d said and shook his head.

“December! Don’t tell anyone!”  

But I was already off to the computer, laughing.

When funnies happen on a snowy, cold day, one must share, mustn’t one?


The Wallet

One day, the Husband and I were shopping somewhere.

I was proverbially drooling over products, as usual.

Finding something interesting to buy, I looked around to

show the Husband, but he wasn’t there, except for two 

women, also looking at things.

I asked them, “I seem to have lost my wallet, have you 

seen him, he’s about 6’5″?”

They chuckled and suddenly the Husband

came around a corner and the chuckles turned to laughter.

A Strange Day

(October 29, 2020)

Had planned on, and dressed for, painting pictures today,

Then video-chatted with my sister online until my parakeet began screeching while flying here and there for no reason.

Ended the chat and the Husband tempted me to change clothes and go with him to Boardman to do errands.

An hour’s drive later, in rainy conditions, we did errands and had fun (book stores, eating out).

We also bought new bed sheets as our old ones were thread bare and then we drove home.

The Husband unwrapped the sheets to check them out, while I put a load of clothes in the washer, noticing that my canvasses were lined up but not yet painted.

The Husband came in distraught, saying, “I grabbed a King Size sheet package!  These are King Size sheets!”

We need Queen Size sheets.

We packed up and drove an hour back to Boardman, still raining outside.

I told him he owed me a chocolate shake.

He exchanged the sheets, both he and the clerk making sure he had Queen Size.

We bought my chocolate shake and drove home.

Got home, put in a movie to watch while eating supper…

The DVD player stopped working, no amount of shaking and inspecting succeeded in waking it up.

It still rained outside.

We finished supper, staring at the TV sharing copious amounts of commercials and he decided to go to Salem and get another DVD player.

It’s still raining, and I’m home with the parakeet, because I just can’t drink another chocolate shake.

Diary Entry from May 15, 1998

(I just have a couple more of these diary notes I found earlier this year during COVID-19 boredom)

Watched a TV commercial tonight.  I’ve seen it before — a new Trans-Am drives up behind a Camaro and “eats” it, leaving behind a metal shell.  The Trans-Am looks shiny black, tough, and powerful.  Anyone who drives such a muscle car is powerful and nobody can withstand such a person!  

My husband said I should have a Trans-Am.  I decided, no.  “Muscle cars” only give a human the illusion, the fantasy of being powerful and strong.  They only make us “feel” power.  In reality, we have no real power.  We can’t even control our own bowel movements!  Why play charades with illusions?

Diary Entry May 14, 1998

(Here’s an entry from my diary way back when)

Lying in bed, fighting sinus blockage, thinking about my totally unhealthy diet for the day, I became philosophical.  My right leg keeps wanting to go to sleep which probably means that I have diabetes from all the cookies I ate, the soda pop, the greasy homemade pizza, the grill cheese and ham sandwich at lunch, the bacon and eggs for breakfast.  I deserve to get diabetes or cancer or obesity.  I deserve acid reflux problems, insomnia, sinus blockage.  I’m always loading myself up with caffeine, sugar, and fat and I deserve what I get.  I know better!  No willpower. Lazy. Lustful of food.  I know to exercise, but I do very little.  Therefore, I resign myself to accept the consequences because I love the food I eat!  Yet…

When the consequences have come.  When I’m feverish or throwing up, or having the Big “D” (intestinal “d”), getting dehydrated, or suffering with hives, pimples, or shingles, gaining weight (the list is long), I find myself begging God to heal me—let this pass—I’LL NEVER DO WHAT I DID AGAIN—I PROMISE!  So…

I get well in due time.  Before a few days have passed, I’m at it again.  Memory fades.  Pain is in the past. Hey, I can handle the results of abusing myself.

My problem Is not unlike the story of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16.  The rich man lived it up until death, and in torment he begged and pleaded to Abraham to relieve him, rescue him.  In the same way, I need to do what is right BEFORE it is too late, not after.