Faulkner wrote “As I Lay Dying” and I’m inclined to pen “As I Lay Trying to Sneeze”. I love to sneeze, but they’re so hard won for me. Conditions have to be precisely right: no noise, must have plenty of bright light, and nobody looking at me. So generally I can only find release at home. I can sneeze in front of Chester. Today has been a very satisfying day all around, even without adequate sneezes. I got most of my Christmas cleared away, I just lack the big tree. I got laundry caught up, but I’ll have to sweep, dust, and mop tomorrow. I fixed those little hot ham ‘n cheese sliders for lunch and was quite pleased with them until Kevin started sending me pictures of his chicken & waffles and later, prime rib. To be so nice, he sure can be a jerk. But to be fair, he did invite me up. He’ll be sorry if I ever get a helicopter. I’m wondering about something and want your take, as I don’t have the experience to answer it myself. Feel free to text or private message via Facebook. I can’t promise you I’ll answer an email on here; I’m not sure what I did with my passwords. Yes, I know I’m supposed to just have them stored in my noggin, but get real. Do you think anyone knows your spouse better than you? Obviously the longer you…

One thing about it, these titles are easy 😉 You might get a poem today. Or you might not. Let’s see where this goes. So concludes the ten days of Christmas and tomorrow I will begin tearing down, bad as I hate to. Yes, I could leave it up for another month, or heck, all year, but isn’t that what makes things special? The anticipation and the overall looking-forward-to-it-iveness? So I’ll pack it up. Sigh. Something is going on with my big tree’s lights, anyway, so best to get that taken down and out of here before it burns the house to the ground. I was coming down the ol’ pike today (as my beloved late uncle called it) and I noticed a delivery type van pulling into my aunt’s driveway. It was a little late for the mail, and I hadn’t ordered any packages and I figured she hadn’t either. As I get closer, I decide it wasn’t a true delivery van at all, as it was a bit worse for the wear, and not in the FedEx “I’m in too big of a hurry to run through the car wash” state of dereliction. I’m now watching from my driveway, and the driver hasn’t disembarked. He pulls around the loop and to the top of the rise and throws his hand up at me. I don’t wave back, because I can’t tell who…

Whew, being disciplined takes dedication. And I’m a little short on suitable, safe topics again tonight. I guess I could write about my dog, as he’s a fan favorite, but considering how much of his hair I sucked up in the vacuum tonight, he’s not on my highly favored list right now. (I know he can’t help it, yes, I knew he was a shedder from the first time I laid eyes on him, and yes, he gets brushed daily. I vacuum at least twice a week with the Shark Petpro XLT or whatever it’s called but DANG.) I’ve been asking myself why I’m so critical. It especially concerns Facebook, which is a sure sign I’m spending too much time on there. I’m for less kids and more dogs. Less “what your Ninja Warrior name would be” and more chicken and dumplings. Less griping about politics and more about what you’re reading. Less bragging about what you’ve bought and where you’re going and more about how you’re spending time with those you love in their homes, or yours. Why ya gotta be so fancy? Less pretension, overall, and more truth. Less passive aggressiveness and more directness. Quit faking it. Who are you trying to impress with some of this stuff? Enough. So I’ve come to the point in my life, when I go to buy something, I have to face reality and determine where I’m…

I don’t wish to treat this blog as a journal, but that’s what I’m reduced to, as I have procrastinated all the livelong day. So here we are, going on 9:00 and I’ve got nothing. I have desperately wanted to turn my phone off today, due to conversations I’ve had, as well as conversations I felt were on the horizon. But I didn’t turn my phone off, and I didn’t have a nervous breakdown, and I managed not to bite anybody’s head off. Score! The bottle of wine I shared with my cousin after work helped immensely, no doubt. As Ernest Hemingway said, “write drunk, edit sober.” I’m halfway there! In case you didn’t know, I live under a rock. I have never been to Trader Joe’s. I thought it was some upscale gourmet grocery store. Evidently it’s a home for fantastic cheeses and $6 bottles of wine, so I gotta get there pronto Tonto. Stumbled across a song today that I haven’t heard in decades. “Say Say Say” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney, two of my favorites. Funny how music from our childhood sticks with us, but I could hear a Taylor Swift song seventeen times a day and at best may get the chorus by the tenth playing. Nothing against Taytay, just my memory is quickly dissipating. And I’m not remembering the important stuff either, before you try to come to my…

Here we are. Day 2. The day where many of us are back at work. Although I learned that University of Tennessee students don’t begin until January 22nd. That’s some break! I dressed up, I curled my hair, I put on makeup…it’s all a ruse. I am here only in body. Everything feels just a bit off kilter. I can’t explain it. But, on a much brighter note, I got a free car wash today! It is unknown if the guy took pity on me (Maggie had bird doo on the door and probably elsewhere, I’ve been trying not to look too closely) or if I look like the type to gripe and he wasn’t gonna take any chances. Regardless, the “basic” three minute car wash is $12, which is highway robbery with a water hose. Plus it always makes me a nervous wreck. I do not like those things pulling me along and buffeting me with the wind and slapping at me with those giant rubber bands. Now they’ve added concert type lighting and it’s all very disorienting. Several years ago, right after I got my car, I went over there and there wasn’t an attendant in sight. I thought if I just eased my way into the tunnel the magic would begin but it never did and so I came out and circled around to the…

I could have written when I woke up this morning, while the house was quiet and I was snug under my Christmas quilt. I could have told about all the things I’d eaten the night before, and how I was in no hurry to scarf down breakfast. I could have expounded on the many virtues of my host, or how Bowling Green has a few things I wish we had in Sevier County, Tennessee. Like the Tostitos Salsa Verde chips I was finally able to procure. But at least we didn’t have any kind of weather to write home about. I was thankful for calm skies this trip. I could have written from the passenger seat of the Ford as we made our way back home, via the circuitous path via Portland that pains me, apart from the giant strawberries and Hereford bull. I could have told you about the nice man at the gas station who has a truck just like this one, and how we wants a diesel F250 and a fifth wheel in order to travel indefinitely. I told him to go for it. I could have collected my thoughts, at least, so when I sat down to write tonight, in the soft glow of my still-decorated Christmas tree, I would have a real topic and an idea of what my first post of the new year should say. I would appear to you as a responsible adult with clear goals and the capabilities…