Last year I cited two articles I had written about local soldiers and their experience at Normandy on D-Day. You can revisit them HERE.

I am letting my hair dry sans brushing or combing or anything- the prospects are not good and perhaps it has something to do with my last post . . . or not. But anyway, yesterday we went down to Fort Wayne – we being Alison, Cameron, Summer and I – and eventually wound up at Glenbrook Mall where I lost my prescription sunglasses (They were turned into Lost & Found), ate at the Food Court (Where I lost my sunglasses), took advantage of a sale at Yankee Candle and spent a lot of time in Barnes and Noble.

I got lucky at the last place in that 1)  I remembered to check the large print books and 2) found Chicken Soup for the Golden Soul for Kathryn Feller.  I was so pleased to see it because it is chockful of short stories which don’t require a big commitment of energy and can be read over and over just for the pleasure of it.

The book was on the top shelf, so I looked around and spotted a gent with long legs sitting in a reading chair; I approached and asked, “Are you tall?” He said it thought somewhat so I had him get it down for me. Customers sitting in bookstores are usually pretty nice – and maybe he was a store detective keeping an eye on things . . .  so maybe he was wondering if while he helped me someone nearby was lifting a book. Or not. I have a devious mind. (My life is filled with so many tangled webs, I need a big trunk to keep them in. But wait, the web thing is about deceit; I’m not quite sure it is fully synonymous with devious. But then again, where did all these webs come from?)

We got home and there was a big brouhaha type argument between me and  the person who got to stay here in peace . . . and didn’t do one bit of picking up. At all. So I stomped around and fed Sydney and then got to thinking 92 is 92 and perhaps I should get in the car and run the book over to Kathryn. So I did. And then I felt better. Not a whole lot, but some.

When I got back, folks kind of took turns peeking at me to see if they needed to set out flares, but apparently I was stable enough that no alerts were issued.

My good friend Maxwoo – Here & Here –

joined me for a snack.

And then I started a sudoku from my new book.

This afternoon, after a couple of weeks of events and having “things” come up, I made it over to the nursing home for a couple of hours to see Emory and Kathryn. Both of them had gone in the facility van to a restaurant for lunch earlier and Emory was pretty tired, so when dinnertime came around, he convinced the staff to let him skip dinner and go to bed. Kathryn went on down to the dining room to get a cup of hot chocolate and after seeing her settled, I headed home.

Somewhere on Rte. 6  – on the bendy section of  the Ind 9 dogleg – I started thinking that I don’t think of myself as looking the way I do in the mirror, and I don’t mean just shape. We’re talking face as well. Now, I recognize myself when I pass a mirror, look at a picture, or catch a glimpse in a window, but it’s not how I see myself in my mind. I have learned what the mirror says I look like, yet I am always thinking, “How can I look like that?” So what do I think I look like? Well, darned if I know.

Even thinking about what I see in my mind when I think of myself doing something comes up with a blur – just an ephemeral poof person.

In The Music Man, the method for learning to play an instrument was thinking; maybe I can think myself into a good look. Yeah, I’ll have to sit here and think.

The house was sleeping – everything as quiet as a mouse – and I, AmeliaJake the Great and Wonderful Grandma of Limitless Talents, awoke in plenty of time to get Summer to the school for the bus to Cedar Point.

See, she is smiling

as she zips herself into my treasured Pacific Beach windbreaker.

It is supposed to be chilly and rainy there with a possibility of thunderstorms. I think, however, she is going for the “I’m on my own” feeling more than the rides. Last year, we looked up all the ride videos on the Cedar Point site and rode the virtual front seat . . . and oooohed and ahhhhed and fake screamed. This year that was old, dontcha know. She’s a veteran.

When Der Bingle was in Georgia, he introduced me to BC Powder – a pain reliever that came in powdered form (obviously) inside a package that resembled a stick of gum. For some reason, it tickled my fancy – made me think of Driving Miss Daisy, perhaps. Besides the package looked so retro and bland, it gave you a feeling of being young and having your grandma take care of an ache for you. And being powdered, it had a head start on working, especially when I washed it down with half-Coke, half-Diet Coke.

Included on the BC Powder website are interesting little links:

And then they pose the question: How do you take your BC Powder –  Straight Shooter, Tough Guy, Mixer.

Last night, after a long, trying day for me, Der Bingle called to let me know about a commercial he had just seen about Bayer Aspirin going crystal, so I took myself over to CVS and looked to see if Kendallville was up on the times. YES!!! So I bought a package.

And I came home and opened it up and took out one of the little gum-like stick things and poured it in my mouth and it didn’t taste bad, It was a little hard to get into, though. The instructions said to pinch at the arrow and tear. I wound up ripping it open with my teeth.

It tasted not bad at all. But it’s expensive and it is kind of a challenge to BC Powder myself.