Morning Person

(Written originally at dark-thirty) I’ve decided I AM a morning person. Known it all along really, but confirmed to me in the last few minutes. I like to see the sun rise. I like to feel like I have a head start on the day. However…..the older I get, the less easy it seems to jump out of a nice warm bed in the dark. 🙂

I am on my way to the nearest McDonald’s to get something to put in my stomach because my fridge is bare and I need to take some ibuprofen because my back hurts because that’s a side effect of the Levoquin (industrial strength antibiotic) and the coughing, which are both side effects of being diagnosed with pneumonia on Friday. Must be that walking pneumonia you hear about because I’d had it for almost a week with symptoms waxing and waning, before I went to an urgent care after my 9:00am tax appointment Friday.

So, that’s the most exciting news I’ve got. Urgent Care over ER (reference mandolin sliced hand) any day. Wait of only 20 minutes, quality MD, chest x-rays and blood work all done with efficiency. Yay for Urgent Care and antibiotics and Albuterol inhalers. And medical insurance.

Sausage Mc Muffin (sans the egg), here I come.


Boy, did I feel dumb.

The budget is a little tight this month due to less hours available for me to work (I’m available….it’s the work that’s not). So….in an attempt to stretch the grocery money, I took my coupon to Fresh and Easy, very carefully bought the minimum of items I needed to utilize the $3 off on $30, and got $30 worth of food for $27. Paid cash, headed out to the car to put my change away, and realized I’d collected the 50 cents, but not the $12 part of the change. I went back in and told the gentleman who had helped me finish bagging my items that I was pretty sure I hadn’t gotten the $12…..He said, no there would have been red lights flashing if I hadn’t taken my change. So, I figured maybe it really was in my purse and I’d just misplaced it. Went back out to the car and looked again…..this time I was SURE I hadn’t gotten the change. The Dave Ramsey cash system in combination with having just gotten some cash from the bank and knowing exactly how much I had before I bought groceries convinced me. So I went back in. Long story short, it took me a couple of days to get the 12 bucks back, but I did without much problem. I felt pretty lame though….saved $3 and lost $12……haha.

Wise Women

After more than a year, I am inspired to blog, prompted by two things.  Or maybe a better way to say it is by two women.  It’s been fun to read Denise’s two recent posts.

I’ve been feeling for a while that what I need is some visiting with an older,  wiser woman.  I had a short list (two), and chose my aunt Anna Belle Palmer Marshall over the other woman to whom I am not related.  My cell phone tells me we talked for 33 minutes today, after planning for the conversation via e-mail over the last couple of days.  Auntie is 81, I think.  She does kitchen design at Home Depot near where she lives in Mission Viejo and this week she has a 35 hour schedule there.  She is the youngest sister of my father.  Married for 60 years and mother to 3 sons, grandmother to five grand daughters and two grand sons, and I think, one great-grandchild.

And yep, she is wise… and talking with her is fun.  Glad I thought of it.  I felt good after our conversation.

It’s been six years.

Monday marks the sixth anniversary of my mom’s death.  It’s difficult for me to remember the specific year and date (I had to look it up to be sure).  The December part is easy.

I miss her in a weird sporadic  kind of way.  There’s no rhyme or reason to it.  Every now and then I’ll find myself driving along, or doing housework or something, and suddenly I have a vague awareness of what it used to be like to talk with her.  And then I am aware that I miss being able to do that.

Of course there’s Everett.  What a joy he would be to her.  I think that was her only regret in not sticking around down here.  She knew she wouldn’t see any great-grand-children.  She seemed confident however that they would bring her joy in heaven, even from that distance.

I guess a big part of what I miss is that nobody loves you like your mom.  And you don’t really appreciate that enough when she’s here.  So….Happy Homecoming Anniversary, Mom! Love you!

I washed the Prius this morning, which really has nothing to do with anything…..except for the fact that, you know, one thing leads to another.  A clean Prius led to wanting to put it back into the garage.  As most of you know, we live on the property where I grew up (from age 6 until I moved into my own apartment at age 22).  And there isn’t a  paved driveway.

An unpaved driveway means the car brings lots of dirt into the garage.  So I decided to sweep out the garage, before I put the Prius away.  But I couldn’t find a broom anywhere other than in Ray’s shaping area (surfboard shaping) behind the garage.  I was barefoot.  And I wondered out loud if I really wanted to navigate the ground between the back of the house and the broom without shoes.  Ants.  Stickers.  Ray recently fought with a cactus back there and the cactus won.  But I went for it.  And I took note of  the apple trees on my way.

Feet, none the worse for wear, and sweeping out the garage, I noticed my name and hand-print and the date the foundation was laid imprinted in the cement. It was right there in the front corner, by the garage door opening. No surprise it was there. I knew that. But I was surprised it was 1959, because we bought the house in 1957 and I don’t remember not having a garage for two years. I had pretty small hands when I was eight.

I could vaguely remember my dad initiating that sequence of events which left the evidence that I was indeed there on that day. And I imagined him noticing it throughout the years as he walked by it several times each day. He lived in this house until the day he died on July 11, 1992.

And I was the “apple of his eye.”  I know what that feels like because I have children. And now my daughter knows what that feels like because she has Everett. Everett Paul Ferraro. My dad’s name was Paul Everett Palmer. He would SO love his great-grandson!

Monday: printed note stuck to the door saying tomorrow “professional curb painting service” will be putting our address on the curb.  Tuesday:  wrong address painted on the curb.  Tonight: knock at the door wanting to collect a $15 donation for the service.  Apology for wrong address….they’ll fix it tomorrow.  Do I want to help them out with a donation?  Me:  “No.”  He:  “How about tomorrow after we fix it?”  Me:  “No, probably not.”  He:  “Shall I knock on the door again tomorrow to see if you change your mind?”  Me:  “You can knock.”

Thought for the day.

Happy New Year. Just reading Psalm 1 and something in the notes (NIV) stood out to me.
“The more we delight in God’s presence (and his law), the more fruitful we are. The more we allow those who ridicule God to affect our thoughts and attitudes, the more we separate ourselves from our source of nourishment.”