But I'm not bitter . . .

Last weekend our little city had its annual Junior-Senior Prom.
I can't remember when I've missed going to the gymnasium to watch Grand March and see all the girls and guys in their finery.
It's a little part of small-town Americana that I have enjoyed for literally ever.
Not this year.
This year they moved it to the auditorium, supposedly so a member of the class could attend in his wheelchair, and then gave tickets to the students to pass out.
If you didn't have a ticket presented by a member of the classes, you couldn't go.
So guess who didn't go?
That's right.
Me.
And guess who else didn't go?
The guy in the wheelchair!
But I'm not bitter . . .

'Rot' now I'm stymied . . .

I can't believe I was so stupid!
Earlier this spring I bought elephant ear bulbs, brought them home and left them in the garage to plant later.
In a plastic sack!
Right.
Rot.
So now I'm going to plant what isn't soft and hope there's a little bit of life left in a few that wants a chance to survive.
While I'm looking for more bulbs.

Rats!!!

Just one . . .

Heard about a darling toddler who, when taken to the annual Easter Egg Hunt last Saturday morning in Burlington, found a white sack and then sat down, opened it, and began to happily munch on the candy inside.
He was finished.
One was enough.
And I remembered another little boy so many long years ago who watched, wide-eyed, as his big brother dived into a pile of Christmas packages, ripping them open with glee.
He opened one, sat down and began to play with it.
"Here's another, honey," coaxed his grandmother. "Open another one!"
"No, fankew," he said, and continue to play with his single toy.
"Just one more?"
"No, fankew. No, fankew. No fankew!"
And that was that.