\We are all customers in the Bank of Time.
Every morning it credits us with 86,400 seconds. Every night it charges off as a loss whatever reminder you have failed to invest to a good purpose.
Makes you rethink a minute, doesn’t it? And an hour makes you feel pretty flush. Your account in the Bank of Time carries no balance-well, except
Scuse me. While nibbling on my yoga mat for lunch, something went down the wrong way. It’s my latest diet strategy. Eat only the inedible and you’re bound to lose weight.
I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard a TV anchor man announce that several national chain restaurants would begin removing a substance from their breads – the very same one that is a building block of yoga mats and rubber boots. I haven’t been so distressed since my daddy told me that hot dogs contained ground horse’s hooves. That may have contributed to my decision to go meatless later in life, but that’s a story for another day.
After two months of dreary, icy weather, the folks in my town were ready to get out and kick up their heels a bit. Today the sun peaked out and we were ready to find a party.. Mardi Gras seemed like a good excuse.
Nobody throws a better party than Emmett and Beverly Smitherman. Today they opened their home to a bunch of pale-faced people who haven’t seen the sun since last October.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an obsession with moving the furniture around. About once a month I feel the need to move a chair from here to there or do something radical like exchange the dining room for the living room. I once moved a piano down two flight of stairs all by myself. It never sounded the same again.
It’s all very confusing and I am always saying to the children things like “Remember that chair I bought for the living room which is now the dining room. Well, now it’s in the breakfast room which used to be my home office.”
I’m about six years away from finishing medical school, but I think I have found the secret to saying good-bye to sugar cravings – at least it worked yesterday and I’m hoping to go for two in a row. To test the theory, I attended a Valentine Party and consumed nary a bite of the gooey, chocolaty empty calories which were calling me from around the room.
I know. I know. I’m no fun any more since I became vegetarian. But I feel great and the acne has cleared up after 58 years.