Good Morning!Good Morning! Good Morning!

And if I were playing a ukelele in Hawaii,wearing a bright aloha shirt, and hosting a morning tv show years and years ago, I’d be saying, “Howahyah, Howahyah, Howahyah.
Trivia question: And my name would be?

Here’s  what I’m looking at over the top of my laptop. The Michigan Mitten of Love holds the beautiful deep purple irises.  In the background are the hanging baskets of Already-Forgotten-the-Name-of-Them-But-at-Least-I-Haven’t-Killed-Them-Yet. And waaaay in the background are the grapevines which will produce the grapes I’ve been growing for the raccoons to steal the past two Septembers.

What you can’t see is the rhubarb that I definitely need to harvest today. And make a pie or two. Today.

After working on what I’m supposed to be doing, which is cleaning up the mess in the guest room. Yep. Been using it for a store room.

The hubster would not call it that. He’d call it a junk room. But it really isn’t. It’s a I’ve got to move this out of the kitchen, living room, bedroom, porch, sewing room, and front hallway but not throw away room. That’s what makes it so hard. I have to figure out where it goes.

Do the rest of you have this kind of a room?  It’s like the kitchen junk drawer for the whole house. You throw things in there because you know you’ll need them at some point in the future.

Except, unlike the kitchen junk drawer, you can break a sweat cleaning up this room.

Yep. I cleaned off the bed day before yesterday. Today I need to clean off the floor around the bed, and NO, I did not just push the stuff off the bed to the floor.

I moved it across the floor to the exercise room!!!

Sigh.

No transition*********** Were you expecting one?**

This is Buffy. She matches the brick on the outside of the house.  This is one reason why I do not let her go outside. She’d stand still against the brick and let protective coloration hide her.

This is Katya. I wish I had taken a video of her looking at this pic of herself this morning. Hilarious. It was a Meryl Streep moment for teaching reaction to a special moment with just the tip of her head.

****** No, none here either.*************

I am just saying this: the United States Postal System and now the company that picks up our recycling either have combined to have a camera pointed at the front door of our house, or have  somehow inserted a tracking chip under my skin. How else could they know when I check the mailbox to see if it’s full, or the recycling bin to see if it’s empty,  AND THEN SHOW UP THIRTY SECONDS LATER.

Consistently.

Without being seen either up or down the block.

You know what this means, don’t you?  Eisenhower was wrong. It wasn’t the Military Industrial Complex we needed to watch out for.

It was the Postal Recycling Complex.

And, think of it: just how much mail that you receive is junk mail and you put it right into the recycling?

I’m telling you there is a link there.

And now we’re back to talking about junk which is my transition to leave to work on the guest room.

But it’s not really junk.

I may recycle a  lot of it.

Have a Mahvelous Monday. I plan on it.

Love,

Janet

P.S.The red haired uke player was Arthur Godfrey.