I'm Just One Big Freaking Ray of Sunshine Aren't I?

It has been a long day. A long week. I have been waiting since the 14th, when Jenny was here for a new washer and dryer to be delivered today. Wednesday, I had the bright (and I mean REALLY bright) idea to paint the laundry room.

Monty nearly died Thursday when he came in and said, "That looks like mustard."

I informed him it was a canary.

Whatever. Last night I painted all the area where the washer and dryer would be. It really is bright.

I sent Monty on his merry way to Bob Wills Day in Turkey, Texas. Woo---weee!!! Now I wished I'd gone. I never dreamed how hard it was to buy small cans of primary color paints to accent the big canary in the room.

I went several places and ended up at a Home Depot.

This young man asked me if I needed help. I almost started crying, I didn't know where to start!

I asked him what happened that small cans of primary paint can't be bought ready-to-go. The man standing next to me (who is painting the outside of his house so shut up alisa your laundry room is a piece of cake) told me everything changed while we weren't paying attention.

I thought if I were a painter I'd be paying attention! Probably not because paying attention is tiresome.

So, back to young man helping me. I had three color sheets. He asked if I decided what I wanted. I told him what I really wanted was a drink, but I couldn't drink and paint. He had the nerve to laugh, which is okay because it is pretty funny.

An older couple came up to get another gallon of paint. The husband was complaining he was old and one gallon of paint should have been enough and his wife was smiling like my canary wall and nodding her head. I was too tired to say anything.

However, he started laughing....at me...and I mean belly laughs.

I said, "What? There is SOME paint on my walls." I thought it was because I have yellow paint on my arms, pants, glasses, and ankles. I don't know how I got paint on my ankles, but it is possible. Trust me.

He said, "I thought my day was shot and you just made it."

I said thank you and looked the other way. I heard him telling his wife to read my shirt.

I'd forgotten I had on a t-shirt that Jenny got me when she was here a couple of weeks ago. It says: I'm just one big freaking ray of sunshine aren't I?

I guess my day was made too since I entertained (for free) at Home Depot.

Now I'm waiting for the rest of the canary to dry to I can paint my primary squares and triangles and then hang some really neat wild colorful things I bought.

Hopefully I will have it all done by the time Monty gets home.

I only want him to have one attack of the vapors.

He can't handle any more than that.

Last year's Easter piece.....

A Dollar’s Worth

By Alisa Dollar

Easter is nearly here and I know I should be thinking about things that go with my beliefs and all I can think about is new shoes and spring clothes!

Seriously, this is the time of year that brings in the new and stores the old. I suppose in a warped way that could apply to a spiritual beginning.

I’m aware speaking of Easter has somehow gotten to be less than accepted in some arenas. Like at Christmas, Nativity scenes being ruled a no-no and other religions could show their stuff. 

In schools, children can learn about all other religions of the world, but mine is a no-no.

I find myself growing impatient with being nice about patience and tolerance with everyone and their particular religious practices and mine are not shown the same respect.

The sad thing is everyone I know of different beliefs are very respectful, curious and tolerant of my practices at certain times of the year as I am of theirs.

One-on-one our world is a much happier and peaceful place to be.

It’s when we allow other people to do our thinking and speaking and it’s nowhere near what all the different religions feel about the other.

With that said, I’m reminded of how my beliefs were formed and solidified over the years with the birth of the Christ child, His journey while on this earth and at Easter His death and resurrection.

I and those who practice the Christian faith are not no-no’s.

It’s a time of year all the symbolism, which varies throughout the many denominations, is re-talked, re-thought, and re-taught.

I like to think of this next week as a divine booster shot in the spiritual pew dweller.

The way I see it, life is too short to fight over who is right and who can practice where, and what can be visible in a court house lawn and what can’t be.

Life is so short that we best all be paying attention to what is right and just amongst the many differences and pray that somehow the Master planner is not gonna let this big world sink!

Next Sunday I’ll be in a pew, with new shoes, next to husband listening to the preacher read the story I’ve heard since I was a little girl.

Isn’t that how all religions work?

Happy Easter!

Why me?

Jenny and I went to Big Lots then Walmart. At Big Lots, Jen found a book of....well an erotica book. So I put it in the basket along with the other stuff we bought....while I was checking out, the checker picked it up and I immediately said, "that's for my daughter!" (Darah I'm going to let her borrow yours :-) too)


The she started talking about a book she was reading that made her blush and I immediately knew the author from the title....and I said "Oh I love her and I've gotten a friend hooked on her." She said, well, she makes me blush and I'm sitting and reading by myself.


When we got out, I had to call Kay (she's the friend) for 1) to let Jenny hear her and 2) what the checkout lady said. Now she and Jenny are friends on FB and I might regret that, but I doubt it.


So...we go to Walmart to buy material (I think I am a quilt queen now) and stuff for the kids and for Jenny and a few baby things for the new baby in the family. Okay a lot of stuff.


A young man checking us out said some little girl is lucky and Jenny told him she'd waited forever to be an aunt!


Then out of the blue he starts saying the military should get paid and went off into this sort of tangent about congress and the president. I said they are getting paid. He said no they're not. He said he blamed the president and I was about to say who doesn't when he said I like him. That's when I got really quiet. I did really. You can ask Jenny.


He went on and on and on and I finally remembered that I had on a very faded Sarah Palin 2008 shirt. Ilooked at him and said, "Are you telling me all this because of my shirt?"


He said, "Well, I know who you voted for."


Jenny butted in then and said, "You are wasting your time, my mom is a die-hard Republican."  Jenny said she was just trying to give the boy an "easy out" but he didn't take it.


When we got to the car, Jenny laughed and said apparently he didn't know who he was messing with and you were sure biting your tongue.


Fun day.

Joan of Arc....NOT!

A Dollar’s Worth

By Alisa Dollar

I got my hair cut with a picture of Jamie Lee Curtis going in and came out looking like Joan of Arc.

If I were Joan I’d be happy because she wasn’t old and lardy. She was young and lordy.

A woman of passion, belief, ready to die for all.

I was only dying to mimic Jamie Lee Curtis’ look.

This guy had cut my hair once.

He really likes to chat. The first time I had on my “Be careful what you say or you’ll end up in my novel” t-shirt. He asked if I was a writer.

I’m sure all of Frankston’s ears were burning as I told him I had a weekly column in your paper. He asked me if it was hard to think of things to write since it is a slice-of-life column.

I told him no because a slice of my life is a genuinely klutzy, curious person. I’d gotten myself into many things in my lifetime and seem to still manage a few in my golden years.

I told him I had a lot of stories I couldn’t write because the owner of the paper said they weren’t for human consumption. Okay, maybe he said they were a little more than he wanted printed in a local newspaper owned by him.

He did say they were funny though.

Whatever.

This time I had on a Texas Tech t-shirt representing the student chapter of the American Society for Civil Engineers.

He asked if I was an engineer. This was before whipping out Jamie Lee Curtis’ picture and told him I wanted to look like her.

After snorting laughter, I asked if I looked like an engineer, to which he replied, I’m not sure what an engineer is supposed to look like.

“An engineer doesn’t look like me. I do their money.” After thinking about that, I added, “Which might of greater concern.”

While he clipped, we talked about Facebook people posting minute by minute happenings.

I put on my glasses, gasped, and remarked how short my hair had become.

“I thought you wanted to look like Jamie Lee Curtis.”

I so wanted to run home and put this on Facebook.

Instead, I wrote an article.

Apparently he didn’t remember the first t-shirt I’d worn.

He will when I take the paper in to him.

Moral?

Hair grows back.