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| Boomer Women's World Newsletter |
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Columns Concerning
Baby
Boomer Women |
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Ever heard the old saying, “If we were meant to fly, God would have given us wings?” Well, trust me, we don't have um, and we can't fly. Although some of us try.
2010 Lesson Learned: When you try to cram everything into one minute of time, you really need to reassess your pace.
Picture this…You're rushing around trying to finish an article, the thoughts are flowing, the muse is on your shoulder and both of you are loving it. You two are actually laughing at your own stuff. Life couldn't be sweeter.
DING! You get an email saying deliver the article post haste. Whattttt?!!! But…but…they said you had two weeks! Immediately going into warp-writing speed, you lose the rhythm and your muse takes a hike. The trader!
DING! You get another urgent message that says, “Ms. Richardson, we love your cat, Miss Kitty, but did you forget to pick her up yesterday from the vet's office?” I have a cat? Oh yeahhhhh.
Just when you think things will calm down, your doorbell rings and you're still sportin' your pj's…Hey, when you're in the writing zone, you stop for nothing; well...except a snack.
So you run to the bedroom, throw on some clothes (note to self: do laundry) and start to run up the hallway.
RINGGGGGG! Are you kidding me? But this could be “THE” important call you've been waiting on all day!! You pick up speed and that—that my friend is when you trip over something (we know it wasn't the cat) and become airborne.
After bouncing off both walls and falling in slow motion, (well, it felt like it) straight into the large, solid cherry end table--thereby sending pictures, candles plus a G-L-A-S-S vase in different directions, performing a 180 in the air (I swear somebody held up a card that read “8”) and then falling on the right knee followed by a perfect landing on your face…you realize…you immediately realize…two things. Oh yeah, that's gonna leave some marks, and I reallllllllly need to learn to pace myself.
You slowly and painfully turn over and as you lay there in the floor, you hear the UPS man leave and the phone goes silent. The pain; however, is deafening. Worst of all, and I do mean worst of all, you see the cobwebs in the ceiling, paint that need touching up, and notice the fans need dusting. That's what I call adding insult to injury.
Fly, smy…from now on, I'm letting 2010 happen at a snail's pace. Course…just to be on the safe side, I'm ordering some wings.Visit Georgia at http://www.queenjawjaw.com
T'was the Fight Before Christmas
(Don't try this at home)
Saying NO to Strays . . . and other things that will never happen.
The Fact of the Matter is…
Seasons Running Amuck
Family Vacations, or Lessons in Self Torture
Weather Wimps are Alive and Living in the South
What My Grandchildren Taught Me
Ann Landers – Move Over…
Chicken or Feathers
You Say TomaTOE, I say TomaTAH…it's still red
You Talkin' to Me?
Poor Old January
Guess What? I'm Expecting!
Clothes Hound, Bound, and Down…Under
And then there was one; OUCH!
Got My Going Britches On
When the Rubber Meets the Toad
It's Hard Being Me
I.R.Less
Walk a Mile in My Shoes
This is a Test
I Wanna DO-over
Celebrations and Ruminations
Who's the REAL Turkey?
I've Been Thinking ?
Swimsuits ain't for Sissies Anymore ?
The Sky is Falling!
Happy Mother's Day to Meeee!
Easy to Follow Instructions – Or, Learning to Curse in Any Language
In Search of the Perfect “Do”
SWEET NOTHINGS
Friends Don't Let Friends Have Yard Sales
I'm Dreamin' of a Light Christmas!
The Royal Mile
CinderPillow
Lost and Found … Myself
That's Not My Job
The Queen of Imagination
Mattress King vs. da Queen
Valentine's Day, She loves Me, She loves ...
All I Want For Christmas Is...
Holiday...Oops...I Mean Hospital Inn Express
The Name Game
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