Football is a big deal at my house. I live with a bunch of guys who love the game. My daughter married a guy who loves the game. It only makes sense I'd be pulled into the gridiron mix. As such, I've contemplated certain intricacies about the game. Not the rules or playing strategies or scoring methods, but the really important stuff. For instance: Why is it called football? The ball doesn't look anything like a foot. Maybe a large, rounded pointy toe — if your creativity allows you such a transmutation, but certainly not a whole foot.
I grew up in the era of classic, they-don't-make-them-like-that-anymore television shows. Of course, this is my opinion. But who can argue with the iconic status of "The Brady Bunch," "Little House on the Prairie," "The Carol Burnett Show," "The Love Boat" and "Fantasy Island?" (The last two so much different than what shows with those titles might be today!) It was a television era of "Happy Days." Literally.
There is too much guilt in the world. Still, I have a propensity to make myself more of it. Lately, I've been feeling guilty about holidays. Days that are supposed to be celebrations filled with joy and fun fill me with dread and anxiety. I bet I'm not alone. Holidays often catch me off guard. I'm busy living my simple and ho-ho hum life when — bang! It's a national holiday, the kids are off school and I was supposed to bake a cake.
The other day I found myself in a quandary. I was in need of cupcakes, but the pantry was without a box of cake mix. I didn't want to go to the store so was left with but one option — to bake from scratch. I'm not a baker. Mostly because I lack a penchant for measuring and exact oven temperatures. But when your kid needs cupcakes, you deliver cupcakes — in this case, from scratch. I didn't think much of it. Until a few days later when I related the experience to a few friends. They all had the same reaction — disbelief and shock.
We've known each other for more than 30 years, and I'm still learning new things about him. This weekend it was all about scented candles. Most of us enjoy the aroma of a nice scented candle. I do. I guess I didn't realize he did. I never really thought about it. As chief procurement officer of my domicile, I typically choose the scent to which we subject our sniffers.
Do-it-yourselfers will attest to two universal truths — projects beget projects and the outcomes are often funny if you are willing to laugh at yourself or others. Both phenomena happen to me all the time. Recently at our house it involved stickers.
It's no secret: Technology is changing the way we do things. I don't trust myself to get dressed in the morning before checking my weather apps — I have three. And I'm not sure how I survived prior to having the find my family app at my fingertips.
There isn't much that makes my husband nervous. Heck, he raised four teenagers, which included teaching three of them, so far, to drive. Anyone who can do that can do anything, or practically anything. I'm confident in him. He isn't — not always, not last weekend, not when it comes to new chores involving a new boat. Summer's waning and in my part of town that means one thing — time to take the boat out of the water.
A phone used to be a phone and nothing more — except for maybe a paperweight. Now our "phones" are multi-taskers of the unlimited kind. Well, unless you go over your allotted data plan, but you know what I mean. That's why I'm petitioning to change the name of cell phones. They shouldn't be called phones at all. I barely use mine as a phone. Talking on the phone is so blasé, so last century.
It looked so easy on Pinterest — as most Pinterest projects do. The title was ingenious: "Thirty-seven quick and easy ways to dress up your bathroom mirror." The only hard part was picking just one. I was hooked — line and sinker. Suddenly, my bathroom mirror was lacking. It looked naked, definitely in need of a frame. I picked a fairly simple concept consisting of four wooden planks to flank the edges of the glass. When it comes to home projects, I excel at planning. My husband helps with execution. It was time to reel him in.