Friday, August 14, 2015

Killer Trash and Maybe a Play Day!

I have finally arrived at my other house.  My husband never can figure out WHY I think I need to come up here before he does, or why I come at all.  I asked him if he thought magical fairies came in the house while I was gone for six weeks and cleaned it.


It isn't near as much fun to come here anymore since I lost my play day friend.  I was in my sewing room starting my next quilt when I got a few text messages from Terry who is still in Colorado.  Then I suddenly got a great idea!

Why couldn't Terry come up here for some play days???

I asked her if she wanted to come.  She said she would love to, BUT.....

Of course, the "BUT" part has to do with her husband.  He is retired and other than all their church activities, he doesn't have much to do, so Terry is his hobby.  I hope he will let her come though.  We would have a ball!  She is used to sewing in a laundry room, so my small sewing room here would suit her just fine.

I met Margaret tonight -- finally -- for our birthday "lunch" which turned out to be dinner.  We both had steaks and caught each other up on the weeks we have been apart.  Margaret says she feels like she is getting more clumsy by the day.  She spilled some nail polish on her carpet today, but her cleaning lady was able to get it all up.  She said she feels like she could fall when she is walking on steep surfaces.

As an attempt to try to encourage her, I told her what happened to me just last night.

I was fixing dinner in my Kingston kitchen.  I like to be in my bare feet a lot until my feet get cold.  I have socks in my sewing cabinet upstairs so I can put them on when my toes turn to ice cubes.  I had put my black and white short socks on before I went down to fix supper.

We have one of those stainless steel trash cans that is about mid-thigh high and has a pop-up lid on it.  There is a little pedal that you step on to make the top pop open so you can put trash in it.

I walked over to it and stepped on the pedal with my left foot.  The top popped open and I dropped in whatever was in my hand.  The lid closed and I started to walk away.  As I took a step and then another, the TRASH CAN CAME WITH ME!

It was STUCK to the sock on my left foot!  I almost fell over backward into the kitchen sink.

I could imagine the evening news with a report of the Kingston woman who was killed by her trash can!

I had to get down on the floor to PULL the toe of my sock out of the pedal.  CRAZY!

Anyway, I told Margaret I completely understood.  We laughed and laughed.

Time for bed now.

Be back soon.

Hugs, Joy

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Hugs, Joy