I am at a lost at what to do today; to be honest, I am a lost at what to do first or how to find an excuse to do nothing. Need to get a refill for high blood pressure medicine and that means a trip to the Wal-Mart because they have it for a total of $8. Oh, and I do need deli rye bread. The big challenge about this is not to let anyone know I am heading to WM or I will hear, “Oh, pick up this and that . . . ” and receive cell phone calls about adding something else to the list.

Need to get my porch (bunker) straightened up . . . need to take Sydney to the fairgrounds, need to get over to the nursing home, need to run some lemi-shine through the dishwasher.

Whoa, there is a light bulb over my head – an idea – Yes! The answer is  “tomorrow”.  Okay, Der Bingle, I will take Sydney to the FG.

I am now the shortest one in the house; I have always been short. I don’t know if that is really accurate because I remember when I was under 12 people said I was going to be tall like my Aunt Dorothy. It didn’t pan out that way. In the day, as they are saying now, I used to be thin enough. Then I plumped out and it is a well-known  I now resemble a Weeble. For all I know, I may have morphed into a real Weeble . . . except I occasionally fall down.

It was in my genes:  shorty.

RATS

When I posted pictures in previous incarnations of WordPress, you could click on them and see an enlarged view. But then, in WordPress 2.7, you couldn’t.  I noticed this when I tried to click on the mother’s hand picture to see it in its truly scary alien form, but it just stayed the same. The axe was the same.  So, little WordPress people, I asked the question on Google and found a lot of people had been asking it, which made me feel as if I weren’t the only dull knife in the drawer. I am learned you must “link to image” manually now; it doesn’t do it automatically.

Such a little thing, but it makes me feel better. I used my resources and I got the answer. See, this is a bit of “Grandma speak” – you preach to “think things through”  and to “ask yourself what the story problem tells you and what do they want to know – it may tell you much more than you need” and to “not panic if you don’t know something but think of ways you can find it out” and so forth.

Of course, once Summer and I went through a carwash and I said, “Oh, we’re being eaten.” We continued the analogy of digestion throughout the ride and then we reached the end and the conveyor rolled us out. Summer and I looked at each other and I said, “Okay, this is an example of my not thinkging it through.” Then we giggled.

When someone knows you quite well, and sees something he thinks you would enjoy and gets it for you, it is nice. Of course, some little surprises I sort of keep to myself because maybe other people don’t need to wonder about why I would like certain things.

Gee, last night Der Bingle made this remark about this little toy he sent: “Think of all the fun you and Quentin would have had . . . ” So I got to thinking about the Q and some of the escapades we had . . . and then my mind wandered to those moments when he lay napping and I touched the softness of his cheek. Good thing his eyes were not open and enhanced with magnification powers: