Oh, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Not even 10 a.m. and I have dithered enough to send a normal person into a tizzy. Fortunately, I am an experienced ditherer, and nobody has ever for one minute in my life accused me of being normal. I have not actually swooned, dramatically posed with the back of one wrist to my forehead, but let me tell you, I’m close.
What, don’t you decorate your gorilla for the season? This is actually from last year. I have not decorated my house nor even cleaned it thoroughly. Judge me if you are so inclined.
Maybe if I get a few things done, I will feel justified in putting my feet up and taking a rest, as in this picture from 2023. I went out this morning to purchase wrapping paper, etc. As I searched for what I needed, I kept hearing Boris Karloff’s voice in my head saying, “It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.” Well, it very nearly did come without tags, because I couldn’t find any for what seemed like the longest time.
I close with a picture of myself with my late, dearly missed husband Steve. We were at Salvatore’s in Herkimer, one of our favorite places to eat. I have not been there in a while. I do not think they are open on Sunday, but perhaps tomorrow I could stop in for lunch or dinner. Maybe I will even wear the vest I have on in the picture.



























