Thanks so much to Lizzi, who always manages to make me smile. Her indomitable spirit seeks out the silver linings in every week, even with tonsilitis! I’m scanning 10 clouds, searching for my ten things of thankful.
Cloud 1: The deer have finally eaten everything I’ve planted in the back yard. All my ground cover. They have also started on our MAIN landscaping at the front. The cost in physical therapy for my back; all those plants, soil, and fertilizer; the time invested in hauling and digging soil for DEER-resistant plants? The flood of water when it rains? Exposed tree roots? Silver lining: No more unpleasant surprises in the back yard- it’s all gone! And I do love working outside. Exercise helps my brain form new neural connections. The deer are also chubby and happy.
Cloud 2: I have not made much of a dent in my organization of hoarded teacher supplies. Silver lining: I am getting better at Cookie Jam, my go-to game when I feel overwhelmed with debris. Also, I now have multiple stacks of STUFF instead of one apparent landslide. And I’ll probably need every item one day.
Cloud 3: My dearest widower is pre-diabetic. SIlver lining: He’s PRE-diabetic. I got him a special fitness watch for his soon-to-be birthday.
Cloud 4: My dearest widower remarked that he is not going to record everything he eats on his app. I guess he noticed how long it took me to note his breakfast and lunch today. Silver lining: He will still work on his exercise goal
and we’ll also see how little he actually sleeps.
Cloud 5: I had my hair highlighted because hair can be so deadly boring. I am not thrilled with the results. Silver lining: My dearest widower LOVES my new look! WOW!
Cloud 6: As spring arrives, I must face my continual dilemma with sunscreen. I finally found a product line that does not shred my skin to the bones. Unfortunately, it makes my face completely white. Silver lining: The zombie look is in. I also laugh hysterically when people try not to look at my deathbed skin color.
Cloud 7: If you google ugly feet, mine are on the third row of ugly. Warm weather is coming and other women get to show off their tootsies. Silver lining: None of my students would recognize me if I didn’t wear clodhopper shoes.
Cloud 8: My clodhopper shoes are remarkably ugly. Silver lining: My constantly changing hair color and white zombie face keep kids looking up, not down. And I’m taller than all of them.
Cloud 9: I am shrinking. The older I get, the shrinkier I am. Remember the dreaded shrinks from Roald Dahl’s “The Twits?” Silver lining: My dearest widower also has the dreaded shrinks. I would say that he’s shrinking proportionately faster than I am, but that would be mean.
Cloud 10: I find myself continually forgetting why I have traipsed upstairs or where I put my phone. Silver lining: I watch folks in their twenties do the same thing. And my dearest widower’s memory is proportionally worse than mine, but I won’t mention that.