Yes, I went into GoodWill and there were these three stools sitting here and they were cheap and so I bought them for the kitchen and wherever. They are shorter than bar stools and taller than chair, so actually work well with the kitchen counter. How they will work with butts is yet to be seen.

The cat is not from GoodWill; she is from Mother’s. Yes, this is the famous Tiffany. Tiffany was second in line to come into the house after Lucy Lib died. Tippy was first. But no more had Lucy Lib passed away than Tippy, a streetwise outdoor cat, got sick and died on the back porch. I do not know if I am now living with a mafia-like hit cat or not now, but since she was Mother’s, she is here and being cared for. Not that I can say the same for the infamous “cat chair“.

Today’s Collaboration Wednesday 30 Minute Delay ( remarks on this issue*  here and here) has me sitting here with a little smirk on my face . . . It is Spring Bring. Mwahahahahahahahah.

*To be honest, I don’t think the school system considers my consternation with this practice an issue. They are, I believe, totally unaware of my opinion . . . because I have exercised outstanding self-control and not purchased a tank and driven it into the school building.

Actually, I did have a hard time this morning; I got up to take Alison to work, came back and did some email checking and then thought I felt crummy and lay down with a blanket over my head. Maybe it was knowing it was Collaboration Wednesday, or maybe I need to get in shape because the attic to dumpster maneuver yesterday took more of a toll on me than it would have 30 years ago. I well know that the aging in those 30 years has something to do with it, but I find comfort in focusing on the fitness part of the equation. At least, I can work a little on that. As for the age aspect, it is already almost a minute later – Darn, the aging genie is determined!

On top of it all, I have a doctor’s appointment in Fort Wayne today, so I am going to have to whip myself in shape. The thing that makes it doable is that GoodWill is across the street. But, I am not going to buy any more potential dumpster fodder; I am just going to look for the fun of it. I think the only thing I would spring for would be a nicely sized frame for my KEEP CALM and CARRY ON poster or the well-made expensive shorts that the sell for $3.50 instead of $50 or one of those little lampshades that clips on a light bulb or slight used Minnetonka  moccasins in my size or . . . Maybe I should just pass it by this trip.

On the other hand, there might be a “refugee” waiting for me; the ones with the red yard hair, dontcha know. Oh, here is something you don’t want to know, but I feel as if truth serum courses through my veins: Sometimes I look for “brain dead” Knickerbockian red-yarned people to be organ donors. Yes, it’s true.

For The Great Poo, a compatriot for some 50 plus years, I once made a whole new body and head and hair and I used the original eyes and included the original “I Love You” heart. And Jake* too since his head was accidentally ripped off when he was four. Perhaps I have been watching too many of the Medical Incredible shows; I shouldn’t broadcast these things, but maybe out there is a Knickerbocker Redhead who has a friend who will be inspired to consider a radical operation and go for it.

* I can’t show Jake’s picture because he is in the Witness Protection Program or on the lamb, one of the two.