Who would have dreamed that 2020, the year toting the coolest
label ever, would turn out to be such a wash? As the second half of the year
looms ahead, the number of cancelled events continues to rise, leaving me with a
deepening case of the blahs.
While I could be using this down time to pen the next great
American novel—or at the very least get crackin’ on the third and final installment
in my YA fiction series—I find my myself squandering a disheartening amount of
time. When the course of Preston and
Maggie’s senior year in high school should be ruminating through every segment
of my brain, their existence has been shuffled to a back corner in favor of such
pressing-matter questions as—
WHAT day is it?
When little distinguishes one day from the next, keeping
track becomes a task. We have resumed a semblance of church, so that helps a
bit. But those middle-of-the-week days try my wondering mind on a continual
basis. Is it Tuesday? Maybe Wednesday? Even when I firm up in the morning the
day’s place in the week, I may forget as evening draws nigh. While I appreciate
the opportunity for engagement on several topics I enjoy via teleconferencing, too
often I’ve forgotten to “attend” because I forgot it was Tuesday when 2:30
rolled around or Thursday when 6:30 arrived.
WILL I ever get to show off my new kitchen?
Our five-year-delayed kitchen remodel got underway just
prior to the Covid-19 lockdown. The monumental undertaking progressed well,
especially considering our luck when it comes to projects around the house. Although
we waited four extra weeks for the counter tops to be installed due to the
quarantine, we lived through the upheaval and are loving the finished project.
Which will make entertaining exponentially easier. If we ever get to host
events again.
WHO is Rose to the Walton family?
An admitted fan of “series” in general, whether in book form or as a television program, I like the chance to really get to know the folks involved. The series “The Waltons” has long been a favorite of mine for decades. And with the series airing in back-to-back episodes late at night, their long-running
family saga nestles perfectly with my night-owl ways, especially during this pandemic, when I find myself sorting boxfuls of pictures, scrapebooking long ago events, or wading through long-neglected drawers full of stuff. Instead of writing.
Those familiar with the show will remember Rose and her
grandchildren who moved into the Walton household the last couple of seasons,
conveniently when mama Olivia was away recouping from tuberculosis. While I’ve
heard the terms cousins and uncle tossed about, I somehow, in at least twenty-some
viewings of the entire series, missed the explanation as to WHO Rose is to the
Walton family. Oh, I know she was added to the cast to expand the story line,
but I push aside such thoughts as they mess with my immersion into the lives of
these dear folks. And WHO she is to them matters to me, so if anyone can help
me out, I’d be appreciative.
DID Fonzie do more than make out with all those girls?
I was reminded just this past Sunday of a much-pondered
question concerning the Lengendary Fonz of “Happy Days” fame. While baking
rhubarb cream pie and rhubarb crisp, I “listened” to a couple of episodes of this
favorite series from days gone by. I was a big fan of this hit series when it
first aired and continued to engage with the characters through the final
teary-eyed episode. And all through the first run seasons and the many years of
reruns, I pondered the extent of Fonzie’s fooling around with all those girls. Surely,
he didn’t sleep with all of those girls? I mean, it was the 50s and this was a
family show and seriously, how bad would that be?
I waffled back and forth, picking up clues to support either
one premise or the other throughout the entire series. This long-time advocate
of and cheerleader for saving sex for marriage worried about the example this
uber popular, sitcom character might be having on impressionable young people.
I
honestly hadn’t thought about this particular question for years, but it
immediately sprung to mind again as I topped chopped rhubarb with a layer of sugary
crumbs. If you care to weigh in with your thoughts on the Fonz’s love life, I’m
all ears.
Now, do you understand why the word count on book #3 refuses
to grow? I’m hoping now that I’ve shared these pressing concerns with all of you,
I can push them to the recesses of my mind to make room for my characters
Preston and Maggie to take center stage.
I will leave you with pictures of my flowers. Because who
couldn’t use a little beauty in your life right about now?
I can relate, Beth. From what day is it to my ambivalence on the Fonz. By the end of Happy Days though, he had grown up and was giving wise advice to Chachi and Joanie.
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