Kymberly Foster Seabolt

I don’t know if it was the recent arrow attack that convinced him to see things my way, but Mr. Wonderful has finally given me the perfect gift: my very own power drill. He either has a new level of trust with me. Or … he’s just gone ahead and given up.

She is four years and 364 days old and she is spinning away from me like a leaf on the breeze.

A part of kindness consists in loving people more than they deserve.

Please be patient with me. I’m from the 1900s. Accordingly, I have first-hand knowledge of both long-distance telephone call charges AND using encyclopedias at the actual library like a pilgrim. I am old. I also remember when Netflix movies came in the mail so I’m practically prehistoric.

I have been sick for approximately six hundred years, or so it seems. Spring as it comes and goes is, for me, the season of rejuvenation, renewal and relentless allergies. As the frost thaws and the flowers bloom, so too does the human spirit and a healthy dose of hay fever. It’s as if every flower conspires to launch a coordinated assault on my respiratory system.

“We inherit from our ancestors gifts so often taken for granted. Each of us contains within us this inheritance of soul. We are links between the ages, containing past and present expectations, sacred memories and future promise.”

PSA (Public Service Announcement): If you jumped on the bidet bandwagon during the great toilet paper shortages of the 2020 COVID Pandemic, it might be time to check the water lines and connections. If you don’t, you might have a crack in the line that decides to spray water in a geyser around your bathroom for HOURS while you are out of town … hypothetically of course.

It’s wedding season! ‘Tis the time of the year when wedding invitations bloom from the mailbox like dandelions sprout in the yard.

In the lexicon of metaphors to describe things which are difficult or impossible, we need to add to “Uphill Battle.” “Biting off More than you can Chew.” “Between a Rock and a Hard Place.” “A Tough Nut to Crack” and so on. To these I now add: “Putting a harness on a cat.”

I’ve never been a millionaire but I feel confident that if I really apply myself, I could be pretty good at it. I don’t think I’d be one of those ne’er do well types who squanders it all in the first year and ends up living in a van under a bridge. Although with today’s housing prices, that might be out of reach of a broke millionaire, honestly. I feel confident I could make a million last primarily because my main hobbies include prowling through castoffs at thrift stores and pawing through antiques and left behind belongings at estate sales. I absolutely will buy a used pie plate for $1 and haggle over a two dollar linen pillowcase. If I must pay full retail, I will wait until I have a coupon or discount code. I’m going to need free shipping at the very least. I could win the lottery, mega millions even, and I would still stop at the USED car lot on the way home from posing with the giant check.