And the plot thickens!

Greetings Fellow Earthlings and Fellow UnEarthlings,

( Well, what would you call them?
Aliens has become passe and political at the same time.
“Outer Space Beings” would be correct, but then I’d be omitting the ” Inner Space Beings,” should there be any reading my blog. And I wouldn’t be practicing inclusiveness, which might be construed at being unfriendly. And I wouldn’t want that.
You see my dilemma.
UnEarthlings it is.)

Back to the thickening plot.
You may recall a few weeks ago that I received a Shakopee Valley News. It was plainly addressed to an individual who lived on Oxford Road North.
In Shakopee.
I live on Douglas Drive North.
In Brooklyn Park.
And even though both streets are described as north, ours is thirty miles more north.

I now have received two more editions of said newspaper from Shakopee.
And here’s where the plot thickens: according to the Circulation Manager, a very nice lady named Ruby, she hand delivers this particular issue to the post office there in Shakopee!
And, before you ask, there is no yellow forwarding label on the paper.

I feel like I’ve entered another dimension. ” It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.”

Well, hello, Mr. Serling. ( you know you all heard that intro in his voice)
Good of you to visit. Before you go, I’d just like to say, on behalf of the baby boomers, thank you for being a classy act, for bringing us more frights than a Halloween nightmare, and for making us think outside the science box. We miss you.

Okay, drive on up Memory Lane to Today.

Receiving another’s newspaper isn’t a world issue, but I would like to know how it gets here. I’ll let you know…

*** *** **+** *****+++++**+*+ ( Jingle Bells in code)

Choice is so important. You can choose to let the events of the day decide your mood, OR you can decide in the morning to be cheerful.
This is neither.
Ahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

I had two fortune cookies in with my meal from the Panda Garden the other day. The first fortune was written by the Minnesota Super Bowl Committee. It said that I was going to make some bold decisions. Or was it that I was going to have a bold adventure? Well, never mind. The point is that the word “bold” was thrown in there. And the way THE BOLD NORTH was emblazoned on sweatshirts, hats, mittens, and everything but the kids’ milk cartons at school, I thought that the Committee had gotten through to the fortune cookie bakery!

The second fortune cookie was empty, and here’s where choice came into the equation. I chose to view this as I got to make up my own fortune.
Yep. So, I think I will make a bold decision and go on a bold adventure!
Where?
In THE BOLD NORTH!!!!

!!!$$^^$^*^^%$#$%^%$! ( O Holy Night) ( just wait til we get to the Stars and Stripes Forever!!!)

***absolutely no transition whatsoever**********

Did you know that there are no coin counters for ANYONE to use at Wells Fargo banks?? When they took them out last summer, I thought that at least the tellers would have one in the back room to use, if, say, a good looking, senior citizen with hair that used to be redder, came in with change to be exchanged for bills.

Nope. The teller gestured to a table in the lobby with a bottle of hand sanitizer, a basket of flattened paper rolls for the different denominations, and the four brightly colored plastic funnely  tubes. “We do not have that machine any more,” she said, “but perhaps you’d like to count it out yourself at the desk over there”

So, I did just that, whilst providing entertainment for those standing in line for a teller.  They watched as I put the coins in the appropriate tube one at a time.  A roving  teller took pity on me and told me some hints toward doing it more efficiently. That did help, but I still managed to drop a few coins, one even having the audacity to flip into my shoe, causing me to search everywhere for the errant quarter. I continued to amuse those waiting in line.

And as I was slowing wrapping the tubes of coins, I decided there and then, that I was NEVER doing this again.

When I got home I ordered the brightly colored funnely tubes online.

If you need them, come over for a cup of coffee and use them. I don’t mind. I’ll even throw in some hand sanitizer.

And, finally, the cowbell.

Those of you might recognize the place where this cowbell is hanging. It is situated at the bottom of the stairs right by the front door.

Now, why, you ask, is there a cowbell purchased from Fleet Farm, so you know it’s a real cowbell, hanging from the railing at the bottom of the stairs?

Well, the hubster bought it to solve a little problem he was having.

You see, when he would come up the stairs while I was sewing  in the sewing room, I wouldn’t hear him until he spoke at the doorway and it would scare the beejeesus out of me.  And after my heart started beating again, I would yell at him to not DO that! Stomp or call out at the bottom of the stairs, anything but sneak up on me while I was concentrating on a project with a Sam Spade playing on the cd player. I mean, I would jump. And seeing as how I would often have sharp objects in hand, and seeing as how I’m now 65 and don’t have that many frights left in me, please don’t do that anymore.

This has been going on for years. He just can’t seem to remember to stomp like Mark Pietari and I would do after school so we wouldn’t make each other jump when we had something to ask or show about tomorrow’s lesson.  That stomping alert  gave my heart many more years; thanks, Mark!

So, I guess, the hubster needed a visual to remind himself to give me an audio alert.  We even had a trial use at the top of the stairs and the bottom of the stairs. The  bottom won.

And THAT is why we have a cowbell hanging from the railing in our front hallway.

Doesn’t everybody?

Have a glorious Friday and an even more glorious weekend. Remember, you can choose,  stop by to count your change, and include others.  Big hugs to you all!

Love,

Janet