Life as I prefer it has finally kicked off here in Blighty!
Yes, Proper American Football season has begun. I didn’t do Fantasy this year. I just didn’t, and won’t, have the time to devote to it. But trust me. I will ditch the Seniors in a heartbeat if they interfere with my grids for March Madness.
I haven’t even mentioned the MLB pennant races, and I’ve had a few criticisms about that from readers. Go, Phillies! Kick tush. Or whatever. That’s a task sorted.
I was at a birthday party yesterday at friends’ and left after the cake-cutting and ‘happy birthday’ singing. Strangely, the weather was beautiful, sunny and warm – it was almost frightening. The festivities were in their palatial gardens.
“Aren’t you staying for dinner” my hostess inquired as I began saying my farewells.
“No. Sorry” I explained. “I’ve things to do at home. I’ve been home a total of one hour except to change clothes and sleep in three days.”
I snagged a slab of Jewish Honey Cake to go, and I needed to get home to change (again!), but this time into my Eagles ‘jammies, pop a frozen pizza into the oven at 190 degrees, and ring Scary Fairy so we could watch the G-men battle the Panthers together- sort of – courtesy of Sky. Aah… Bliss!
Note to readers: Sorry, but that was the game Sky Sports chose to broadcast. I rooted for Carolina. Plus, the second game was the 49er’s, Seahawks.
It was an average busy week, plus it was Rosh Hashanah. I managed to do a ‘ladies who lunch’ lunch and shopping trip with Divine and LiveJerry. LiveJ’s husband is feeling better now and they’re off for four months to St. Simon’s Island in Georgia, so it was kind of a going away party.
I had Buy Design business to do as well. Carol and I are carrying on despite the defection of our third partner. I think we’ve found a promising new avenue. Another lunch, another meeting.
I had a Senior Centre committee meeting and a Holocaust Memorial meeting. And I’m trying to line up vendors for the Sam Beare Christmas Bazaar and scrounge prizes for the Thanksgiving Dinner raffle.
Of course, Rosh Hashanah meant more dashing, and outfit changes. After all, I was on stage, opening the Ark Doors, and I had to do it in style.
I was invited to a posh dinner after services on the second day. It was lovely, except for a tiny mishap during dessert. The hostess, serving coffee and cake, told a little story about the family heirloom china service she was using. As I picked my cup up from the saucer, the handle broke off, spewing coffee all over me, the man sitting next to me, and the heirloom lace tablecloth. Talk about embarrassing!
Checking out all the beautiful New Year’s cards on their mantle, I commented that other than a few dear friends back home, all of my cards this year were sent on line, saving me oodles of time. At least I don’t have to include ‘what I’ve been up to’; everybody know all that. It’s in the blog.
And on-line ones are so cool with music and graphics and stuff.
I had one from luverly Henry in Marlboro, New Jersey, with the requisite good wishes for a sweet year, news, and a wish for ‘the worst to the Bastard of Crumberly’. I guess that’s the Turd. ‘Bastard of Crumberly? Hmm. That’s pretty poetic. Henry is such an accomplished wordsmith.
He also commented that in mine to him ‘Philly bred Jeano’ spelled ‘humor’ h-u-m-o-u-r. I must remember to use American spell-checker in future, not the English version.