Uncle Marvin's hat

My sisters are going to be mad when they learn I posted this pic. I posted it, not to make them mad, but to show the truth in my recent statement that any time I get a chance, I wear a hat. That's me in the middle. The hat I am wearing belongs to my Uncle Marvin.  Here's how I came to be wearing it in the pic. We met my mom and her siblings for dinner recently when they all came to town for a visit.  When I sat down, I almost put my feet on Uncle Marvin's hat as he had placed it under his chair, him being a gentleman and all. My Uncle Marvin would never wear his hat at the table, though he does tip his hat to ladies, especially elderly ones. I have this on good authority. I digress. I picked Uncle Marvin's hat up so as not to crush it with my feet. He would have placed it elsewhere but I popped it onto my head and kept it safe for the entire meal. My Aunt Pat, who bought Uncle Marvin the hat for Christmas took this photo of my sisters and I just as we were finished our dinner and were preparing to leave. You'll be happy to know I did not leave with Uncle Marvin's hat. Though I like it very much, it isn't mine and I would not keep. I wouldn't much mind having one like it someday. Two other things I want to add here: that's my grandniece Lilliann (who we call Buttons) on her Aunt Johnna's lap. We like her a lot. Also. We like our Uncle Marvin a lot, too. We also like Aunt Pat. Aunt Willa. Uncle Jerry. Aunt Claudine and Uncle Buddy. A lot.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Karen the Good

I believe I have mentioned here before, that my little sister is sweeter and prettier and smarter than I. She is also much taller. I honestly don't begrudge her any of that (though I wouldn't mind having that extra vertebrae she was found to have.)
We've never really jealous of each other. Not since we were adults, anyway.
We fought like cats and dogs as children. I once pierced her ear while we were setting the dinner table by throwing a fork at her. There are any number of things that by today's standards would at least be  considered the acts of a juvenile delinquent. The only trouble we got into, really, was with our folks.
I often say we were raised in a litter. We ate off each other's plates and finished each other's sentences. The two of us and our darling baby sister were all born within five years of each other. I am the eldest. I am also the shortest and the one who most often seems to need the help and support of the others. Take the example of the picture above. The middle sister was fixing me before any more family/group pictures could be taken. She rearranged things for me and got me ready to be photographed. That is just the kind of girl she is. That is why we call her Karen the Good. I am not sure what they call me. But you can call me thankful.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

How to get some serious work done

This is what my desk looks like just now. I've got a gingerale with frozen blackberries, a saladm, a note pad, the little calendar the bank gave me at Christmas, my reading glasses. The is a small mountain of paper work barely in camera range waiting for my attention.
I've got my watch and bracelet of so they  neither get in my way nor irritate me. A bottle of infused water can be seen in the upper left corner. It is for when the gingerale runs out. This is how I get serious work done. I have everything I need to conquer the aforementioned mountain of documents. This is how it's done...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Dolls

I took this picture in the dark with just the flash light from my camera. I got up in the night to check on my grandbaby (because old habits die hard) and found her sleeping alongside two of her favorite baby dolls. All three looked like dolls to me so I decided to snap a picture at the risk of waking her up (which I didn't) and share it here (which I did!)
Aren't you glad I did?!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Old woman

Reading glasses are kind of a new thing for me. My younger (prettier, smarter, sweeter) sister says she has needed them for a while now so she can't feel too badly for my finally needing them. Hats, however, are not a new thing.
I am amazed when I look back and see how often pictures show I have worn them over the course of my life. I like hats. The one I have on below is a special favorite. I had it on at my grandbaby's softball game the other even and the Hub took my pic. (It might look like a selfie but it is not.)
I am happier to be at the game and wearing a hat against the strong west sun than  I look.


It's just that the sun was in my face.


 I am quite obviously less happy to be wearing the reading glasses; cool though they may be. I was working on a Bible study lesson with the Hub when this one was taken. There's no makeup on that face, just those big ole readers.
I am just now getting used to having to wear them. Other than sunglasses, I've never really had to wear them, except at football games and the movies. Distance has been a challenge for a few years but up close was not a problem. Until I hit fifty and a half. That is when my eyes and certain parts of the rest of me decided I was old.
Really, it's best not to argue with one's self. If a girl lives long enough she becomes a woman and eventually, an old woman.
So that's it. The admission I've been loathe to make.
It didn't hurt so much after all.

More redbuds

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone