Tag Archives: Pickle

Weird Things for Which I Was Thankful — Even in 2020

Image by Daniel Roberts from Pixabay.

(In this edited version of my newspaper column, I recall a Thanksgiving when COVID ran rampant.)

Have your children or grandchildren watched “Sesame Street’s” Oscar the Grouch? I worried, lest my offspring adopt him as their patron saint.

Fast-forward to 2020. Thankfully, my children don’t live in trash cans. Nor is Oscar their role model.

I, on the other hand, sound more like Oscar every day. So, this Thanksgiving, I choose to be grateful, even for weird things.

Thank You, Heavenly Father, for the following:

  • I don’t have to mask when I talk with You.
If praying with a mask seemed difficult, singing in the church choir was harder!
  • Because of COVID-19, I rarely try on clothes in stores. No multiple mirrors!
  • Squirrels playing nut-soccer on our roof don’t weigh 400 pounds.
  • Delivery drivers bring life’s necessities — like apple cinnamon air freshener and SunChips® — to our doors.
  • Potholders that aid in taking golden turkeys from the oven have not, unlike everything else, gone digital. I haven’t had to recharge one yet.
  • Not all gas pumps show videos.
Image by Artsy Solomon from Pixabay.

I also thank You that my husband has never, ever refused to open a pickle jar.

  • We use clean water I didn’t haul a mile.
  • Though some idiots — er, futurists — drool over human interfacing with technology, my Internet still has an off button.
  • Leaves filling my yard are not poison ivy.
  • I rarely worry about charging hippopotamuses.

Thank You, too, God, for pie. Any kind but mince.

  • Also for the fact no one has written or performed “Medicare Supplements: the Musical.”
My niece’s pie looked much better than mine, so I used her pic.
  • For the color periwinkle.
  • For the rustle and fragrance of a real book that keeps me up late.
  • For phone calls from Little Brother. When I was a teen with a boyfriend, and he a brat with mirrors, I wished him 2,000 miles away. Eventually, my wish came true. Now, I cherish the bittersweet joy of hearing his voice.
So thankful that the COVID situation improved so I could travel and visit Little Brother out West.

Finally, Lord, I’m thankful for my two-year-old grandson who sings in the night.

You hear that, Oscar? Probably not, as you have clapped your trash can lid on tight.

Image by Maaark from Pixabay.

Stay there, if you want. But if you change your mind, gratitude’s an excellent antidote for grouchiness.

Even for you, Oscar.

Even for me, this Thanksgiving of 2020.

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: For which aspects of COVID’s wane are you thankful?

Looking Back on Resolutions 2021

Image by USA-Reiseblogger from Pixabay.

Are you one of those scary people who keep New Year’s resolutions?

Then skip this and return to Planet Jenny Craig, from whence you came.

If, however, you’ve given up all hope of achieving such goals, let me be the first to encourage you. A decade ago, I discovered a unique approach that revolutionized New Year’s Day.

I learned to make only resolutions I will keep.

Please note the effortless beauty of the following examples:

  • I promise I will not mow our lawn in January.
  • I will give up earmuffs for the Fourth of July.

Check out my actual 2021 resolutions, whose success rates left those of Jenny Craig aliens panting in interplanetary dust, including:

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay.
  • I will refrain from topping my waffles with pickles.
  • I will, however, break world s’more records, as our children gave us a patio firepit for Christmas. This mother wants to make her children happy, so no sacrifice is too great.
  • My next resolution should prove doable for 95 percent of the world’s population: I will blame COVID-19 for everything. Conventional therapy points fingers at spouses, parents, kids and in-laws. Instead, blame COVID. This is cheaper and less complicated, as no virus yet has been named in a lawsuit or divorce.
  • Speaking of COVID, I also resolve to wear a mask in public. Even if most are designed to fit your average antelope.
  • I’ll still greet all checkout personnel and other shoppers with a smile.
  • If the pandemic endures, I’ll continue my role of Invisible Pickup Customer. Despite reservations, confirming emails, receipts, pickup signs and angels blowing trumpets where I park, I will continue to elude pickup personnel at each and every store.
  • Out of deep concern for the local economy, I will order takeout. Three times a day.
  • In 2021, I will talk to my microwave more than to humans. Which probably is good, because mostly I yell at it to shut up.
  • I resolve not to camp in Dead Women Crossing, Oklahoma.
  • I will continue to brighten the days of IT personnel and car mechanics with the astute diagnostic phrase, “It doesn’t work.”
  • I will regard all device updates as tools of the devil and Russia.
  • I will not lift my car to clean its underside.
  • I resolve to write in cursive, though my grandchildren believe I am using hieroglyphics. Not surprising, as I helped build the pyramids.
Image by TheDigitalArtist from Pixabay.
  • Finally, I will stumble through playing and singing one praise song daily, thankful that my childhood dog — who howled epithets when I sang — no longer critiques me. Fortunately, Jesus and Hubby like it.

See? A simple, innovative approach. Profound. And free. (You only pay for shipping.)

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Are you ready to take the resolution leap in 2022?