There really aren’t too many things that I have borrowed and never returned. I don’t borrow much in general, except for the old joke about borrowing a piece of gum. No one has ever wanted that back.
The only item that I have in my possession that is not rightfully mine is a back scratcher. I love this thing.
I borrowed it from my older son once years ago. I can’t recall where he got it. Some vacation place. Maybe the store at Lambert’s Cafe in Missouri.
I wonder if people with the last name Smiley really are. I wonder how much longer phone books will exist. I wonder if kids today make crank calls. I doubt it. They don’t talk on the phone and sending a text message that says “Is your refrigerator running?” or “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?” isn’t the same. I don’t even remember what Prince Albert is so I doubt they know that joke.
All hail the power of a hug
A couple Decembers ago, a group from our local Happiness Club went to the mall to pass out Free Hugs. We had signs and candy, and pure sweet love in our hearts. It was uncomfortable as we pondered it and then we all just relaxed. Once the hugging commenced, we were surprised by the welcome reception. Boys and girls and men and women of all ages and ethnicity were open to a hug.
I was told today by a potential client that my “sweet spirit” shines through. I used to think if someone called me sweet that implied I was not smart or capable or professional. I thought people would pat me on the head and pinch my cheek and say, “Oh, isn’t she sweet” and walk away.
As it turns out, people feel safe birthing their books with someone they find sweet. Writing a book can be a personal, and transformational, journey, and they want someone who truly cares. This shows how we can get hung up in our insecurities, and the …
We’ve lived in this house for about a year and a half now. We love our trees and the critters. We made the mistake of putting out sunflowers seeds for the turkeys this winter when the snow was piled high. They then camped out in our yard and made our front porch their hang out spot. I wouldn’t mind except for the plethora of poop on the porch.