I Accomplish a Monstrous Monday Post

Before starting work this morning and again on break, I worked on a blog post. In addition to not having completed it (I think the last thing I wrote was, “Where was I going with this?”), I do not feel like sitting up at the laptop and typing it in. I really must get a new laptop, so I can lounge on the couch and ten-finger type in comfort. At my age, posture is a lost cause.

All this by way of introduction to another Monstrous Monday.

Is this how Monday snuck up on you?

Every Monday is the start of another chance to get my act together and work towards accomplishing my goals. I seem to remember reading somewhere that accomplishments are overrated, but I think I would like to accomplish a few things and see. One likes to have a basis for comparison.

Or one could just sleep the day away.

Most Mondays, I let myself off the hook (for example, by making Monstrous Monday Blog Post). I figure just getting through the day is enough. However today I made my lunch for tomorrow, did the dishes, and spent some time folding laundry, including putting out clothes for Tuesday and Wednesday. It is not a lot, but let us not expect miracles.

Additionally, I am over 200 words with very little effort. If I can find one more monster picture, I will be reasonably content.

I love a cloudy day.

OK, I could not find a monster I like. How about a threatening cloudy sky? Sufficiently spooky, I hope.

Accomplishments Are Overrated

It is Wrist to Forehead Sunday, the day when all I want to do is swoon onto a handy chaise lounge, dramatically posed with the back of one wrist to my forehead. Note to self: get a chaise lounge.

I went for a long, slow run this morning, up a couple of pretty good hills. I did some grocery shopping and a load of laundry. I worked out in my back yard for a spell. I fixed dinner, did the dishes, then dirtied more making a salad for my week’s lunches. No wonder I’m tired!

All of this activity is by no means usual for me on a Sunday. For years I have maintained that it is useless to try to get anything done on a Sunday. Sundays are for watching movies, or episode after episode of Snapped. A glass of wine is optional.

I think the highlight of my day was the nap I took around 9:30 this morning, between grocery shopping and laundry. I was on the phone with my mother (I needed cheering up) and suddenly felt very tired. Mom thought a nap was a good idea. Always listen to your mother.

As I type this post, I contemplate the week ahead. Will I get things done? More yard work? Real writing? Mohawk Valley Adventures? Better blog posts? A little suspense adds interest to my Sunday.

A Toast to Siblings

Did you know it was National Siblings Day today? I did not, till I saw it on Facebook. What a source of information and entertainment. My sister Vicki shared a lovely picture of the five of us.

Since I wanted to participate too, I searched my Tablet for a shot. I did not have one. Instead, I shared a picture of a flight of draft beers from Heelpath Brewing in Frankfort, NY. I figured, I have four siblings, I would drink a beer to each of them.

Later that day, I got together with my friend Kim, and she suggested we go to Heelpath and perhaps sit outside. It was a drop dead gorgeous day, and we do like Heelpath. I decided to drink a flight for my siblings.

Yum, yum!

I took tasting notes but do not have them handy and am too lazy to look for them. Anyways, since they represent my siblings, it would be wrong to pick a favorite.

Heelpath Brewing Co. is located at 122 Marina Park Dr., Frankfort, NY, phone number 315-444-9005. They are open 2 to p.m. Wednesday and Thursday, 2 to 10 p.m. Friday and Saturday, noon to 5 p.m. Sunday.

Sad Yard, High Hopes

In lieu of my usual Lame Post Friday Post, I thought I would share the Before pictures of my back yard for a Photo Friday Post.

The shade obscures some of the brown overgrowth.

This is where there was once some semblance of a garden but last year was merely a large patch of Black-eyed Susans, chives, and a couple of things I did not plant.

I picked up that big stick at least.

The fence needs work, too.

Last fall, the son of a friend nicely patched a hole in my garage roof. He left behind some materials. I suppose it adds to the general ambiance.

And then there is my container garden, which I also did not clean up at the end of the season. What can I say? 2020 was a lousy year for me, and I did not do enough to make it any better. However, there is no point in lamenting the past. I can only move on to the future.

With that in mind, I plan my Saturday activities. More yard work? A trip to a local flower barn or greenhouse? Whatever it is, I’ll try to make a good blog post about it. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

I Wish It Was Just Dead Leaves!

Note to self: Do not allow yard waste containers to collect rainwater.

Last night, I had such a good plan. I took some pictures of my 2020-ravaged back yard (yes, I am going to blame it on the year, although we all know it was my own neglect) as “Before” shots. Then I was going to get some yard work done and make a blog post about it. I knew I could not get to a point where “After” shots would be possible, but I had hopes of making progress. So far, so good. I started raking leaves. Ah, here was one of the plastic trash cans I use for yard waste. I’ll just rake these over here and…

EEEEEE!!!!!

Most of my plastic trash cans have developed cracks and holes to let the raiwater out, but some have not. This was was over half filled with water and I THOUGHT I saw a portion of furry back floating there. EEEWWWWW! I could not even look closely enough to be sure. In addition to being a big fat baby in general, I am extremely squeamish when it comes to dead critters. I went up on the deck and peeked over the edge. EEWWW! I ran for my husband.

“HONEY! I think there’s something dead in the trash can!” Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong!

I was not wrong. Steven came out and dumped the can. Why I felt unable to do it myself is something I cannot explain. Oh, how awful! It was stiff. It was bloated. It was NAAAAASTY! At first I could not even tell it was a squirrel.

I got a trash bag and fetched a snow shovel that was still on the deck. Why, oh why, can I not be one of those people who is unfazed by these things? Steven wielded the shovel. I held the bag. I poked the nasty thing with a stick to get it on the shovel. We got it into the bag without actually touching it. I put it in our garbage can. I was traumatized. Steven was regretting that we ever bought a house.

And here is another thing about be: Even as it was happening, I was composing this blog post in my head.

The disgusting experience had quite the detrimental effect on my motivation. However, I made an effort to get started. I filled three trash cans with leaves, including the can I had started the day before. I made a small pile of sticks which were too thick to break down easily.

I came across another container with water in it. It had a lid, but the lid had come partially ajar. I emptied this one myself, with some trepidation. It only had a little trash in it. Phew!

I made sure to put lids on all the containers I had lids for, except one whose lid was in a hard to reach spot. Well, what kind of miracles of dedication and efficiency do you want from me? Anyways, that was one of the cans with a big old crack on the side. Who knew defective trash cans could be such a comfort?

I did not feel I had made much progress. For one reason, I did not put in nearly the amount of time I had at first envisioned. What can I say? Dead rodents have that effect on me. I hope to have recovered sufficienly to have at it again tonight, but since I also hope to go running, no promises. Additionally it is supposed to be a delightful evening to sit on one’s front porch and just enjoy. I must weigh my options carfully.

Not Just Dead Leaves!

I went for a run after work, hoping to make a Running Commentary Post. After my cool-down walk I spent a very little time cleaning some of last year’s leaves out of the front yard. Then I took a shower, fixed supper, talked to my Mom on the phone, and generally got too tired to make a blog post.

Yet here I am. But do not despair, gentle reader! This is not another whiny post about how tired I am! Instead, I exerted myself enough to go outside and take a few pictures of flowers. I do love flowers.

Obviously I did not get all the leaves.

This is the lone crocus in the front yard. However, there is more greenery, so perhaps there will be more. I went into the backyard to check on the progress of the daffodils. When I was running I saw a bunch in full bloom, so I had some hopes.

Getting there!

I figured the circuses I had seen before were over, but I was delighted to see a few more, fighting their way through the treacherous 2020 leaves.

I have great hopes for getting yard work and gardening done. Of course, I will have to spend more time at it than 10 minutes after a run. Still, one has to start somewhere. I will keep you updated on my progress. For one reason, it makes a good blog post.

W(h)ining About Monday

Who me? Drink wine?

I thought I would open with a picture. In fact, it has not been a particularly heinous Monday. However, I am tired and disinclined to make anything but a Monstrous Monday Post. Can I find any good monsters to share? We shall see.

She’s so fine!

This, of course, is Bonita, our year-round skeleton who lives in our living room. This was her October outfit. I found the hat at a rummage sale. I think it is for a small dog. The black tulips, which I’m afraid do not show up very well, were made by my clever theatre friend, Jerry, for a murder mystery called Spring into Murder.

Another friend.

This is Harold Ghoul (get it?). I got him at a neighbor’s yard sale. I don’t know what they used to call him.

That says it all.

This is not turning out to be much of a blog post. I guess my bottom line is, I don’t like Mondays. I am embarrassed to admit it, because it is such a cliche. I hate to follow the crowd! Unless the crowd is drinking wine. Teehee.

Why Didn’t I Watch a Vincent Price Movie?

Oh dear, it truly is a Wrist to Forehead Sunday, if for no other reason than that I can’t find my stylus so am pecking one letter at a time with my fat fingers. I know, I should switch to the laptop.

Here I am on the laptop (which is moving ever slower but still seems to get the job done), ten-fingered typing where the overweight state of my digits does not seem to matter much. Well, that was a bad start to a post on what should be a joyful holiday.

To you too, Vincent!

I had to search the laptop’s downloads for an Easter picture. Who doesn’t love Vincent Price? Full disclosure: I never saw him as Egghead on the old Batman series, although I used to watch it every day after school. However, I watch Vincent Price in other movies on a regular basis.

I confess I did not do much to mark the holiday today. Additionally, I worked on Good Friday, for the first time in over a decade. In my previous job, Good Friday was a paid holiday. Before that, I tried to take a vacation day. I guess I need a Good Friday to really feel Easter.

Then again, I think for all of us, holidays have not felt like themselves for the past year. But we do not need yet another post analyzing the pandemic and its sad collateral damages. At least, maybe we do, but I feel it should come from somebody with more wise words than those which I can provide.

In the meantime, I would like to make my blog post with a minimum of whining. It has not been a bad day. I took a long run and a nap. Not at the same time, of course. I cooked a tasty dinner. I watched movies with my husband. I enjoyed a glass or two of wine. Just a typical relaxing Sunday. I go back to work tomorrow at my new job, which seems to be working out very well for me. Of course, I would prefer to be independently wealthy and not have to work at all, but as that great philosopher, Mick Jagger once sang, You can’t always get what you want.

On the other hand, I do sometimes get things I want: a relaxing Sunday and a blog post done. I hope you are all doing as well.

Pretty, yes?

I close with a picture of some flowers. My Rose of Sharon is not blooming yet, but one likes to see blooms on Easter.

Now I’ll Try to Sleep Again

I guess I fell asleep without making my Saturday blog post. These things happen. Why is it that one can snooze on the couch while the television continues to play something one was totally interested in, no problem, then when one goes upstairs to a comfortable bed in a darkened bedroom, one remains wide awake?

It’s not that I am one of those people who need noise to sleep. Steven used to like to sleep with the radio on. I made him use the Sleep function, which made it play for an hour then shut off. As for having a television in the bedroom, forget it!

So I don’t know what my problem is, but here I am at one in the morning, wide awake. Usually, I do not get out of bed. Normally I stay in bed, doing relaxation techniques which I make up for myself, until eventually I sleep again.

This time, I could hear that Steven had gotten back up and was watching a movie. He has insomnia, too, but is not the longtime sufferer that I am. I have always had insomnia. I should be used to it by now. But I decided to get back up and make my neglected blog post.

Who knew I was going to spend 200 words griping about my insomnia? Oh, you probably knew (you know who you are). But so I have. Good night again.

What’s in a Lame?

Have I used that title before? I’m too lazy to go back and check. It is almost 11:30 Friday night, so I am getting my Lame Post Friday Post in just under the wire.

Here’s a weird thing: my Predictive Text thingy has stopped predicting things it previously predicted most of the time. For example, it used to be if I typed in (that is, pecked in one letter at a time with the stylus) “Lame,” the predictive text would predict, “Post Friday.” Today, it did not.

That is about the most interesting thing I can come up with at this point. I am usually in bed by this time on a Friday or any other night. Not always asleep, because I am a chronic insomniac.

Oh, here is something else weird. I just typed “insomniac” into Google to make sure I spelled it right, because my Tablet underlined it, and it seems there is a whole big thing called Insomniac. I was invited to plan my next insomniac event! What the hell? I did not explore the matter. In fact, I hesitate to mention it, in case I am advertising something quite unworthy, but it kind of went with my stream of consciousness vibe, if you see what I mean.

And now I have rattled on for 200 sufficiently lame words, I will sign off and try again to sleep. Happy Friday, for whatever is left of it!