I could get used to this...

I just took Ellsworth and Vesper (my mom's black miniature schanauzer- potentially the CUTEST dog in the entire world) for a little walk around the block.

Saw a cute, tan surfer and smiled.

Came back to the beachouse and my aunt Terri pointed out that my dress is cute, but I have some Oreo crumbs in the corner(s) of my mouth.

Oreos and pina coladas make a great summer afternoon snack.

stupid paparazzi.......causing wrecks.....

and that is all i have to say for today.

Crumbs.

As I was searching the pantry this morning for breakfast, I found an old, single, mini wheat.

I thought about eating it;

Decided not to.

I'll just wait for The Feast.

The Pleasing Aroma of Faith

"I have received your perfume, Dear Daughter, but it is your faith that has healed you. Go. In. Peace."

~Jesus Christ

In The Fold(er).....

On January 2, as I returned home from holiday travel, I noticed an orangish-yellow folder near the steps of my front porch. Someone must’ve dropped it, I thought, and they’ll recover it upon their return home.

As the days go by, I see the folder all over the place. From the porch to the parking lot. From the parking lot to the mailboxes. From the mailboxes to the grass. From the grass back to the parking lot. Maneuvered around by wind, feet, and tires the poor folder has been through the ringer.

Two weeks later, the folder is still in the parking lot. Frozen. Lonely. Helpless. It’s been rained upon, snowed upon, kicked around, and plowed by tires. No one seems to care. No one seems to want it. It used to be valuable. It used to contain important documents, I’m sure, or intimate thoughts and marketable ideas.

After weeks of watching and waiting, I will pick up the folder today. It will not be of good use, as the rings have been bent and rusted. Nonetheless, I will bring it into the warmth of my home and put it on a shelf. Or maybe in my book bag.

Where it belongs.

Baptism

I got baptised when I was 7 years old. 

My mom came to church with me that night..... she wore a grey jumpsuit with a black belt (I thought she was Pat Benetar for the first 10 years of my life).  Her nails were long and painted a beautiful deep burgundy. I remember the 3 year old little girl in the pew in front of us.... she was rubbing my mom's nails and her eyes were staring at them in amazement (her mom was kind of boring).  

And the water was cold. 

Did I put my hand in a blender...?

You know what really irritates me?

Chipped nail polish.

When I see ladies with chipped nail polish i immediately judge them. They must be lazy. Why would you ever paint your nails if you're going to let it get that gross-looking?

I got a nice manicure on Saturday (Dutch Tulip). And already, 2 nails on my left hand are chipped- almost entirely peeled off, actually. And for the past two days I've been telling myself "I have GOT to remove this nail polish". I even laid out the cotton balls and the nail polish remover on the coffee table so I'd have no choice but to remember to take care of my minor maintenance "problem".

But, I think I'll leave it like this for a couple of days. I will ignore the cotton balls. Instead, I will be with people that make me happy, or I will watch TV or laugh or have fun or nap or call a friend - that's what spare moments are for.


;)