Live, love, laugh.

My dad bought himself a new toy today - a mint condition 1955 MG TF 1500 Roadster. He drove right over here to show it off. His delight was contagious; I was soon giggling and grinning ear to ear. He said he hoped it wasn't too late to succumb to a little midlife crisis endulgence (he's 78). More power to him for giving in and living large. I'm so glad to see his joy.

P.S. I'm not that into cars, but I gotta admit this one is a beaut.

Pong

Work on side garden behind gate. Remove overgrown shrubs, divide perennials. Head to nursery, ponder choices, head to another nursery. Ponder some more. Finally buy plants. Get most of them planted.

Lose momentum.

Decide to redo side garden in front of gate. Remove vine maples that have never looked good. Head to nursery, pick up plants. Cut vine maples down, dig out 1 stump. Need to dig out other - much harder to do. Make up excuses, stump is still there, plants wait to be planted.

Lose momentum.

Decide to decorate den walls with pictures and kids' art. Head to frame store to buy mats and frames. Head home, frame artwork. Oops, forgot hangers. Dash back to store. Attach and hang a few pictures. Decide need floor lamp by rocker, wait to hang rest of pictures until know where lamp will go so shade won't block pictures. Head to lamp store. Head to another lamp store. And another. Can't make up mind. Pictures sit on den floor.

Lose momentum.

Decide to paint 1 wall of youngest son's room green. Head to paint store to pick up sample. Try it. No quite right. Head to another paint store, try another color. Close but no cigar. Head to different paint store. Third time's the charm. Note to self: buy 1 more quart and paint wall on Sunday.

Decide he needs drapes. Can't find ones that look good. Order swatch sample from on-line catalog. Buy drapes and drapery rod for oldest son's room instead. With hubby's help, get them hung. Does son like them? He couldn't care less.

Lose momentum again.

I'm bouncing around like the ball in Pong, never quite completing a project before my direction changes. Life is filled with frantic motion as I attempt to accomplish something, anything but my damn to-do list refuses to get smaller. All this distracting activity and yet I still feel adrift as if life is undone.

It is.

Today's my mom's birthday. She would have been 72.

I miss her so much.

Mere inches

That's all there was between my legs and a car bumper this afternoon. The driver backed out of the parking space so quickly, I barely had time to react but thank God, I did. If I hadn't shrieked and slammed my hand on her trunk, she wouldn't have known I was there, wouldn't have stopped and would have run me over! The adrenaline rush spurred anger (insert choice words here) and then shock and nausea. After shouting at her, I had to sit down before I fell down. I have had near misses while driving and I was rear-ended this spring but this is the first time I've ever come close to being a pedestrian casualty. It was very unnerving. Even now, several hours later, I can not believe how close I came to being injured, potentially very seriously. I have to admit that one of my first thoughts was, "How on earth would I get my gardening projects done if I was in a body cast?" Guess you can see where my priorities are.

It was a chilling reminder of what might happen when we are blinded by distraction and the rush, rush, rush of every day life. Be safe out there, everyone. And no cracks about women drivers, please. I was rear-ended by a guy while stopped at a stop sign.

(The driver did look appropriately stunned at what she had almost done, as well she should have.)

Four eyes

I've reached that stage in life when my eyes can't focus on close-up objects. I own 3 pairs of reading glasses. One pair sits by the computer; another pair floats between kitchen table and the table next to my favorite chair; the 3rd pair lives in my purse so that I never have to hopelessly decipher menu options or map directions. Most of the time this system works just fine. But every now and then, I foolishly pretend that I can read as if presbyopia hasn't struck. (Is it me or is it weird that the label given to "old eyes" syndrome sounds like a religious conversion?). That's when the fun starts. Last night I realized that the scented lotion that I've been using for a few months is actually bodywash. Sheesh! However, that does explain the pearlescent shimmer, not typical for lotions, and why my skin would feel so sticky afterwards. Another time, I made a batch of Chicken Tortilla Soup extra spicy because I added Red Cayenne Pepper instead of Chili Powder. You know the cartoons that show steam pouring out of someone's ears when they eat something really hot? Yeah, that about sums it up. Of course, my hot-food loving husband thought it was perfect.

It's not vanity that prevents me from using my reading glasses. It's laziness and the reluctance to wear my glasses around my neck on a chain. I don't care how funky the chain is, it's still glasses on a chain around my neck. It's unexplainable for the same reason that I can't own a van. It's the image of who I become if I do that.

Hmmm, maybe it is vanity. Oh, well, if I gave in, just think of all the opportunities for humor at my expense that you'd miss out on.

I got you, Babe!

If Zac could sing, this golden-moldy Sonny & Cher song would be his favorite.

"Why on earth would he pick that song?" you ask.

Allow me to explain.

Meet Babe, the movie namesake and a McDonald's Happy Meal toy of some years ago.

Zac "owns" 3 Babes. They are his pals, as you can see. He carries them around the house in his mouth. He sleeps with them, eats with them and plays with them. He loves them! It's a good thing he has 3. As one wears out (the stuffing is coming out of this one and it lost its ears a year or more ago), he has backups.

Yes, if Zac could sing, his song would be "I got you, Babe!"

Internet flotsam

This wonderful gem came my way via a friend. It reeks of many email gotchas I have received, mostly from a well-intentioned but much too gullible aunt who never took it well when I debunked them. Oh, well. Anyhoo, this one is delightfully full of giggles, even if it does strike too close to human naivete. Enjoy!

The Ultimate Email Forward

I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat crap in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing. Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time. I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish. Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers. I can't enjoy a good Latte from Starbucks anymore because they WOULD NOT send any coffee to that poor Army Sgt who requested it. Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains. I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put "Under God" on their cans.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer. And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life.

I no longer can buy gasoline without taking a man along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas. And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 I dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me. I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda,Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

I no longer worry about sudden cardiac arrest, since I can now cough myself back to life instead of wasting time calling 911.

I no longer have any sneakers -- but that will change once I receive my free replacement pair from Nike. I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

Thank you, too, for all the endless advice Andy Rooney has given us. I can live a better life now because he's told us how to fix everything.

If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician, who is a lawyer.

Have a wonderful day, and you are welcome!!