I’ve visited 20 states so far in my 61 years. Eventually, I hope to see most of them. Well, all except for Michigan and Wisconsin. I’ve crossed them off my list for certain recent events. But never mind that now. Let bygones be bygones, right? Besides, moving to Canada is out of the question; I’m not fond of cold weather and I don’t understand ice hockey. But let’s continue, shall we?
No thank you
My point is, little did I know I’d visit a particular state WAY more than I ever imagined. That would be Texas, y’all. Now don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against the place, exactly. It’s actually an interesting, often beautiful and entertaining state. But there’s only one reason I’ve gone there so often — one of my besties, Sharon, lives there.
Last week some friends and I attended my godson’s baseball game (an independent professional team) at Albert Park in San Rafael. Being there was a trip down memory lane. Thirty-one years ago these same friends and I stepped off the adjoining field for the last time after playing fast-pitch softball for 10 years. When we formed the team I was the old lady of the group at age 20. Little did we know then what fun times awaited.
Sitting there watching Martin play brought back many fond memories. Insert music here: Memories,light the corners of my mind, misty water-colored memories of the way we were. Okay, enough of that. Suffice to say those 10 years together stretched into 40. And we’re still going strong.
I have to warn you I’m writing this on 5 hours sleep over 2 days. I’m not a great sleeper since the wickedly strong grip of menopause found me. Also, I just returned from Greece on an animal welfare mission. So between that and jet lag, I barely remember my name.
Normally, I try to inject a bit of humor in my posts but this one may be different. One thing I know: it’s hard to find anything amusing when animals are suffering. I‘m just saying. But I promise our journey in Greece ends on an upbeat note. Don’t worry, you won’t be crying into your Sunday morning coffee as you read this.
Trapping feral cats to halt their baby-making capabilities reminiscent of Octomom and her 14 kids.
Playing tennis in my ongoing attempt to serve an ace before I die. Accomplishing that feat is so far fetched, it likely would result in my opponent having a heart attack from the sheer absurdity of it. So let’s skip this one, shall we?
Continuing to manage 7 animals…like stopping Jack from pouncing on Savannah, cleaning up after Oliver’s hairballs, keeping Nellie from eating poop in the backyard and trying to get Tippy to sit anywhere but in front of my monitor.
Enjoying time spent with friends. Oh wait! That’s what I was doing on vacation. Hmm…appears I have a pretty nice life. Gotta love retirement…
As you know from last week’s blog, I was in Texas helping my friend Sharon unpack hundreds of boxes from a recent move. You might be interested to know (or perhaps not) that I didn’t develop a Texan drawl. That’s because Sharon ensconced me in her home for 6 days so I never got the chance to develop a proper Southern twang.
Floor to ceiling throughout 3400 square feet
Now don’t get me wrong. Sharon didn’t exactly crack the whip. But close.Very, very close. Let’s just say she reminded me of Lady Tremaine (Cinderella’s wicked stepmom) but without poofy hair.