The older I get, the more I like pictures like this that Robert took today at our hiking outing at beautiful Wormsloe Historic Site just outside Savannah.
See? The emphasis is on the early evening light falling on the old cast-iron fence. And NOT on my now-completely white hair or deepening wrinkles.
Robert and I have just finished reading our 157th book together.
That probably needs a bit of explanation. Quite a while ago, we started reading books when we were in the car, 90% of the time with HR driving and me reading out loud (or perhaps taking a quick beauty nap).
Nerd that I am, I keep a record of our readings.
We are eclectic readers, with novels, philosophy, mythology, history, poetry, self-help (at my insistence), religion, etc. on our list.
The book we just finished, Boyfriend Material, is pure escape fiction, a hilarious and heartwarming novel about two opposites: Luc, the messy and often-scandal-ridden son of two aging rock stars and Oliver, a perfectionist English barrister. The story follows the trajectory of their unlikely romance.
At one point Luc decides he must clean up his beyond-filthy apartment before inviting Oliver over.
Here’s Luc …
I’ll let him tell the story …
“At 9 o’clock on Tuesday night, halfway through an episode of Bordertown, I came abruptly to the conclusion that all of my problems would be solved if I tidied my flat. At 9:36 on Tuesday, I came abruptly to the conclusion that this had been the worst idea ever.
I had started trying to put things in places, but the places where I wanted to put the things were already full of things that weren’t the things that were supposed to go in those places, but there were no places to put the things that came from the places, so I then tried to put things back in the places, but they wouldn’t go back in the places, which meant now I had more things and nowhere to put the things, and some of the things were clean and some of the things were very much not clean, and the very much not clean things were getting mixed up with the clean things, and everything was terrible and I wanted to die.
I tried to lie on the floor and sob pathetically, but there was no room.”
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This is exactly why I am a minimalist.
We saw this on the back of a vehicle in front of us at a red light recently.
An interesting and truthfully funny iteration of the generic “Baby on Board!”
Today Robert and I stocked up on things we might need for Ian’s arrival here in Savannah over the next few days.
Including essential vegetables …
If the shoe, crown, fits ….
It sorta fits. Don’t you think?
I don’t know about you, and I don’t claim to be an exercise physiologist, so correct me if I am wrong, but I always thought that walking involved movement. Especially your legs propelling you forward.
HR comes from an alternative school of thought. The “Walk Till You See Something—ANYTHING—That Grabs Your Attention Philosophy.” Then stop and take multitudinous (Is that a word?) photos of the attention grabber. You can always edit—and walk—later.
So this morn, we ventured out on our SMW (Sunday Morning Walk), which we often do instead of church (nature’s sermons are much more interesting).
If I wanted to hold a grudge, I could document at least a dozen “attention grabbers” Robert stopped for this morn. But let’s allow two to suffice.
We paused for a good five minutes at this “interesting” old chopped-up bush.
I think I’ve told you this before, but Robert NEVER thinks to inform me that he is going to “stop for the op.” After all, his attention has been grabbed! I usually end up walking at least a block away, chattering animatedly about some important topic, like how disappointed I was in the last season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. When I realize HR’s nowhere near me, I turn around and head back, ignoring the sympathetic stares and giggles of people who heard me talking to myself.
And looky here …
A caterpillar! (A good ten minutes.)
This stop was multidimensional for Robert. 1. To take twelve dozen photos. 2. Good Samaritan-ly to save an innocent life. The caterpillar was in the middle of the sidewalk. (We watched the Tiny Worlds documentary series.)
It’s important to take the time to document the caterpillar’s body from EVERY conceivable angle.
Here are a few of HR’s pics …
See what I have to put up with?
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But when all is said and done—and photographed—I do love our walks. And I do love HR.
He’s my blossom.
From WSAV News …
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Seriously?!
Yesterday I had an appointment with my dermatologist. I checked in and had to wait. And wait.
Quick run to the bathroom.
“What a pretty mirror,” I thought. (Who else even thinks to take a pic of the mirror in your doc’s bathroom?! Anybody? Anywhere?)
Then I was called back to Exam Room #3. “Take everything off except your underwear and mask,” I was instructed. I quickly obeyed. Then had to wait.
From the now chilly exam table, I spotted another mirror. “Hello,” I waved (to whom I’m not sure).
Still waiting, I sort of drifted off. (It was early morn, after all.) Woke up to yet another mirror.
Wouldn’t you think there would be fewer mirrors in a dermatologist’s office instead of more? We know we have skin issues. That’s why we came! Why throw it in our face (or other body part)?
Do normal people simply wait patiently until the doc knocks on the exam room door to announce her arrival?
But what fun would that be?
{Reminder Note: At next therapy session, ask Rubi if Mirror Obsession Disorder is a thing.}
NealEnJoy 