Looking at my hands, I'm reminded of Shel Silverstein's poem in which he wonders how many slams are in an old screen door among other wonders. I wonder how many times I've used my hands. Then I think of all the good use they haven't done yet, and am so amazed I send up a little prayer of gratitude.
See those stretch lines? They're my inherent barometers. And they're free. My hands swell, deflate, swell and shrink, puff up like angry adders and too full udders day in and day out. I am most grateful when they shrink because when they do, I can wear my lovely rings. I don't care much for such jewelry since they are too constricting. So why do I have as many as I do? Well, hmm. Rings look so pretty on other hands--I can only hope . . . someday. Besides, I like gem stones too, but five minutes after slipping a ring on any digit, they pulsate. I couldn't stand wearing my class ring. Mama said buying it was a waste of money.
I wonder just how many handlings are left in an old limner's hands, sans a single ring. I suppose I'll have to wait and see. There has to be many many more seeing as how I haven't worn off the whorls on my fingers and palms. So, I ask you now:
How many slams in an old screen door?
Depends how loud you shut it.
Depends how loud you shut it.
How many slices in a bread?
Depends how thin you cut it.
How much good inside a day?
Depends how good you live 'em.
How much love inside a friend?
Depends how much you give 'em.
Aw, shucks. I could ask how many slams in a vintage Camaro's doors too, but you'd groan. So I'll simply share this beauty with very little else said about it, beyond this: Am crazy for the red but not the spoiler. This car reminded me of Sonny. He loved his Camaro more than he loved me. And I liked riding in it more than I liked being with him. We parted ways and married other people. And we lived happily ever after. Well, Sonny and his first wife divorced. He blamed me. Said every fight they ever had included me. Oh! This car? JC and I had another meal at The Black Walnut yesterday. It was the second time this week. When you don't have an appetite their lobster tacos and Caesar salad will restore it in a hurry. Yum for some!
After we ate we had to stop and shop at WFM. And guess what. Yes! New bags. I wanted a peek. It didn't happen, but there were more circle bags! Yea to the hey-hey! I won't rest until I discover what the new bags look like though. Any idea?
Then this gem flew in from out of the blue. The wide blue yonder since . . . Well, perhaps I can truly say "from out of the wild blue yonder" because it was so wildly windy JC had to shut down the umbrella. Do you wonder what I'm still wondering? How did it get processed twice before they did the code thing on back? Laughing here. Can only imagine what the postal people made of this. Thank you, Jean! JC declared it a wonder that it made it here at all. "Ah, Jean, and you called me lovely," I gushed, as I straightened my hump and caught my eye before it rolled across the floor and out the door. Thank you for the blue that matches my sky.
. . . stay tuned. Please, do not adjust your monitor. Not just yet anyway.
P.S. They're here.