Phew! Had a rough couple of days there but am much better now. Thanks for your kindnesses.
We are having an arctic blast here. I know that is nothing compared to Minnesota, North Dakota and such but it is pretty rough for some. Doesn’t bother me and I am so thankful for a warm home and health that allows me to go out if I need to.
I get such joy from hearing Bells play with Himself. She laughs and he laughs and it makes everything a bit better. "Gampa" was one of the first names she said. Actually, I think it was the first name. Since before she was born I’ve wanted her to call me "Nonna," the Italian word for grandmother. However, she only refers to me as "Boo-boo." I’ve called her that for a long time and she decided that is my name! No matter how much I correct her she won’t budge. Hey, as long as she calls me…….
Why Nonna? Because I often want to be different. When I sported a zebra print purse, my daughter was not pleased. This was only last year! When I got a couple of new purses, she said it was good that I could throw the zebra out. I told her I was saving it for Bells to play with! Ha!
Different is fun. But not when you are a kid. I remember crocheting a nose warmer when I was in grade school. The next cold day I wore it to school and people stared and pointed and made fun. I thought it was a great idea! Kids are cruel out loud. Adults talk behind your back. Difference now is I hardly ever care. Age is definately good for some things.
The poem "Warning" has been a favorite of mine for many years. Now that the Red*H*t ladies have gotten a hold of it I am only one in a crowd. However, I loved it before it was popular so…
Warning – When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
By Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Purple suits me. blessings, g