Who says Bl0gs are useless?
I’ll have you know that “Scrambled Dregs” has paid off big-time.
Several months ago I whined about auto-drip coffee being forever ruined after my palette found French Press.
Fast forward to the annual-post-Thanksgiving-dinner-family-name-drawing-for-Christmas-gifts event. (Yes, it’s a cumbersome title – we thought about A.P.T.D.F.N.D.C.G.E but we just couldn’t sell the concept to the majority…something to do with turkey induced lethargy, I think.) My aunt who reads my blog and remembered the whining-about-French-Press-coffee post, drew my name and… gifted me with an 8-cup French Press. Thanks, sweet, sweet auntie. (This is one of the same aunts who took me to bright blue Mt Crash-a-lot in Colorado. In hindsight posting the French Press whines followed by the four part visit to Mt. Humilation was a brilliant marketing ploy. Of course this only works for family members who’ve somehow had a hand in scarring you and who read your blog.
Hope your Christmas was a French Press kind of day.
In the near future I think I’ll be sharing some family lore – the stories that crop up every time we get together.
Heads in my freezer, dead trikes, things like that.
Maybe I’ll start my campaign for a Blackberry soon, too. My cousin/nephew and I had a discussion over some excellent ideas for blog posts and in all the frivolity I forgot the darn topics, maybe they’ll come to me, they were funny enough to spew organic jelly while laughing over them. If I had a Blackberry that would never have happened (the forgetting, not the snort/spewing.)
So how guilty do you feel over Mt. Marked-For-Life, aunties?
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.