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As I drove to work in the rain this morning, I realized something. I am incredibly fickle when it comes to rain. Not just me-all of us. We have a deeply complicated relationship with water falling from the sky.
"I Wish It Would Rain" is the title to an old song by The Temptations. Where a man longs for rain to hide his tears-- that doesn't apply to me. I'm more concerned about watering the sod I have recently planted. Rain today? Free lawn care. I'm not going to have to worry about getting out the hose and soaking the tender grass today. As children, many of us loved to play in the rain. We ran outside, splashed in puddles, ruined perfectly good shoes and had not a care in the world. Pure joy. The other side of the coin is "Rain, Rain, Go Away. Come again another day"--We have all chanted that phrase at least once in our lifetime. Rain can truly be an inconvenience. Our hair, delayed commutes, the devastation of our freshly washed car--all can be victims of a rainy day. Yet, give us a couple of days of 100 degree heat and we are back to "We really need the rain." . The green grass, the fresh air, colorful flowers start blooming and sometimes we even are lucky enough to get a rainbow. We smile and quickly forget (and pretend) we weren't complaining at all. So-- wish it would rain? Rain, rain, go away? Honestly, rain called. It wants me to make up my mind.
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Regrets. That is a powerful word. Something that we all do not want but something that we all reluctantly must admit we have. Now what?
I read a book last year entitled The Midnight Library. This book discussed about a place between life and death where you visit a huge mystical library, full of books that each explore infinite versions of your life. Maybe you wanted to be a doctor, maybe you wanted to be a movie star, maybe you wanted to be a mother…the library gives you the opportunity to see that possible life and the outcome—if that would have been the path you would have chosen. When I was reading this book, I spent many waken hours thinking about what would be on the shelves if I visited The Midnight Library. The main character in the book searches through many books searching for a life where she is the most content. And regardless of her search, every life showed faded glories. Some lives, you might lose people you love, fame and fortune without giving you the glory you thought it would. We can spend our days caught up in “what if” and “if only,” but I’m fairly certain many of us would eventually discover that the grass isn’t greener on the other side. While it’s probably impossible to live without a few regrets, after some honest reflection, I came to a simple but powerful realization: I like my life just as it is. THAT, my friend is what is powerful. Have you ever gotten up participated in Karaoke?
I can carry a tune. I can sing harmony. I have actually been a member of a band and several singing groups. I started singing in church when I was around 14. Did some talent shows and even sang at a wedding once. I am not afraid of a microphone. I am not afraid of a stage. I am not afraid of people. But I will NOT do Karaoke. I did it once. Once. My BFF and I were in Mexico and I decided I was going to get up and entertain guests that gathered in this open-aired concrete theatre. I have need to disclose that there may or may not have been some alcohol involved prior to this decision. For my own dignity and defence, I will say YES--that is the only explanation for what followed Song: I chose "Rose Garden" by Lynn Anderson. And truly, I beg your pardon because it was not rosy at all. Yes, there is a video. And that, dear reader, is the source of my lifelong humility. My singing? Perfectly adequate. Pleasant, even. On key and very expressive. I was selling it. But for reasons known only to my overly confident past self and probably Jose' Cuervo, I decided the performance required choreography. During an instrumental break, I boldly announced "This is the dance break"--I did some moves that I saw once on The Three Stooges. And because I apparently thought I was on tour, I shouted "let me hear you, Oklahoma!" We had met two people from Oklahoma. TWO. They did not, in fact, respond. (come to think of it, we may have never seen them again during our stay) When my friends hear this story, they ask if I still have the video. Yes, it is on my phone but only three people have ever seen it and that is three people too many. What I will show them instead, is a video of me and my BFF WATCHING the video. That video is just as entertaining and will make you laugh, as you watch us laughing hysterically, gasping for breath, Is there an amount of money that would prompt me to post the original video for all the world to, see? Well, yes, probably. But if would need to cover relocation expenses, a name change and probably years of counseling. I will not sing Karaoke again. I've already begged my pardon once. I may not promise you a rose garden, but I absolutely promise you, there will never be another dance break. My mama taught me, if you cannot say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
The .End. Beau is our dog. He is three-fourth Australian Shepherd and one-fourth Border Collie and 100% a Mess.
We had the best dog, Sadie. And after she was gone, I said no more dogs. I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought we needed Beau. I think all the dog commercials and Instagram videos of these sweet, calm dogs who were clearly "man's best friend" got to me. So, when I saw a friend had puppies for sale--I have never paid for a pet, other than small adoption fee-I knew I needed a dog. When I saw the picture of this little, black and white fur ball with a pretty orange bow around his neck, I shouted "this is MY dog"....(insert shoulder slump and headshake) He was an adorable puppy. Freckles on his nose, puppy breath and some big feet. I took him to PetSmart to Puppy School. He didn't do so well. Not because he is not smart, it was because he is too smart. You have heard people say that smart children can get bored if not challenged, well, that must have been the case. He "graduated" but it was not fun. So, then I decided he needed boarding school (training) and he went for THREE weeks. The training was supposed to be two but the trainer said he was going to need three. Beau did not get along with the teacher. And while, he did learn how to walk on a leash, sit, stay (for a moment) shake, place, down, come (if he is interested), it is clear that Beau lives life on his terms. The trainer said he will get better with age. Beau is now 6 and he is better. He is excellent and sitting and down (even though we sometimes get some attitude with it). He loves his crate and will go in there every night and sleep without any trouble. BUT he cannot be unsupervised in the house. Here is why:
So ANYONE want a dog? He has cute freckles, LOVES to swim and will sit and shake and even give you a high-five. But you will need to have some really high counters and even then, I'm not sure your sandwich will be safe. What are your thoughts on coupons?
In the past, I would grab the Sunday newspaper and pull out the coupons and start clipping away. I tried several approaches to organize said coupons: envelops, accordion file folder, paperclips. Never did find "the one" that was the best. Coupons are out there and during my birthday month, I get several in the mail. $10 off, $5 off----and I usually take the bait. It is free money. The caveat is you usually have only a few weeks to cash in on these. AND, in a world where I'm trying to downsize and de-clutter.....what do I actually need? Where are the coupons from Target or Albertson's where you could use the coupon for things you need? Today is 2/1/24. My birthday month is January. So as of midnight, last night, my coupons have expired. Well, there is always next year. At a doctor's visit, the doctor discussed the benefits of intermittent fasting. Of course, my only question (which I did NOT ask) was will you lose weight? A woman at my gym did this type of fast and lost 30 pounds. Granted, I don't have 30 pounds to lose, just maybe eight. So why not give it a try.
The goal is to fast for 16 hours. This allows you to eat for 8 hours and I have learned the key is determining the timeframe that works best. I work out at the gym at 5:30am and I LOVE breakfast, but I cannot eat breakfast at 7am because then I would have to be done with my dinner at 3pm... now I admit, I do love to eat early (6pm) in relationship to most but 3pm? That would mean I would have to have my happy hour at 1pm. I think my boss might raise an eyebrow or two if I was shaking martinis at my desk. So the best plan is to wrap up my last meal by 7pm. Which means I can start eating each morning at 11am. So, from 5:30am to 11am, I watch the clock. Tick, Tock, TIck, Tock. Stomach growl, Tick Tock. I do have to admit it is really not as hard as I thought but I do miss breakfast. It makes you think about what you will be eating when you are allowed. The doctor did mention that during those eight hours of feasting, you must eat a healthy, well-balanced meal. Doctors take the fun out of everything!!! It is 8:30am and I'm drinking my coffee and have my snack ready when the little hand hits the eleven and the big hand is on the twelve. So if you want to meet for a breakfast meeting, I am happy to do that but everyone needs to know that I will be having my happy hour at noon and going to bed at 5. Happy Fasting. I have long been in the practice of saying hello and sharing a smile to strangers. I will also give out a compliment or two: That is a pretty dress" "You are pretty" It may weird out some folks, but 99.9% of the time, the recipients seem genuinely grateful. Today, I was on the receiving end of a compliment. Not only once but twice within the same hour, two different people. The only reason I am sharing this is I'm living on the high from their kindness: You look so nice. You are so pretty. In a new year, we (me) seem to be analyzing everything about ourselves we need to change. We set resolutions often centered around how to improve. Goals to be thinner that we disguise in a resolution centered around "just being healthy." Today, I'm going to go a different direction. Of course, that doesn't mean I won't be reading about diets or how to lose inches FAST , it means I am going to take the focus OFF of me. I want to be kind. My goal for 2024 is to
Happy 2024! This morning I noticed a trend within my in-box. The email titles were very disturbing.
I'm not sure which one is the most offensive. My knees are just fine (they may click a little but they are just fine) and I think that also addresses the Bone on Bone. AARP-I have been a member since 2013 (age 50) Hair loss: you are wasting your time. My hair is fine, yes fine in texture but FINE none the less. Diet solutions: HOW RUDE! While I am pretty much on a diet 50 weeks out of the year, I do not need some random email telling me how I should do it. I like my diets to include wine, Ruffles and peanut butter. I have yet to get THAT diet solution. So back off. Avoid Dementia: while I am always afraid of this happening, I try and do puzzles and games on my iPad that will keep this disease at bay. And while I often have the "what did I come in here for?" thoughts, I do have a pretty good memory. Of course, I remember things that do not really matter. Here are some facts that YOU may not know or remember-but I do: Florence Bush was the casts' hairdresser on Leave It to Beaver. Rob and Laura Petrie lived at 148 Bonnie Meadow Road. Miss Landers was Beaver Cleaver's teach and Mrs. Rayborn was the principal. I even remember the poem I recited at my kindergarten graduation! My memory is fine. Walk in Bathtub: while this sounds very convenient, they are expensive. Any ad that says $500 off means the price is at least 10 figures. Plus, everyone in the ads are OLD and have gray hair. My hair is not gray, as far as you know. OK. I have said my peace. I do not want some strange company sending me these disturbing emails reminding me of growing old. Now I need to run to the drug store to get some Icy Hot and Advil. If I could just find my keys.......... I love looking at real estate online. I also like watching the shows centered around real estate: Million Dollar Listing, Lottery Dream Home, etc. I also like the home remodeling: Flip or Flop, Love it or List it.... basically, pretty much anything on HGTV.
When I am looking at real estate through apps like Zillow or Realtor, I tend to look at homes in Malibu, Newport Beach, Hollywood Hills, Beverly Hills---and of course, these homes all come with a 7-figure price tag-some are 8 and even 9 figure price points! WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? Oh, I'm sure if I looked, I could find a home that was under a million but what's the fun in that?? So, I look at homes that overlook the ocean or have an ocean view--because if I'm going to pay millions of dollars, I need a view. While I know that these homes are often staged to look like they belong on the cover of Architectural Digest, I often wonder what it would look like if someone actually LIVED in these houses. Where do they put their clutter? Do people REALLY have garages that are three white walls with no ladder, no shovel, no boxes of crap lying around? Needless to say, while I can dream about a big Hollywood Hills abode, that will never be my reality. EVEN if I won the lottery, I would remain here in Texas. That will not stop my dreaming and I will work to keep my envy in check. But I do believe a view of the deep blue sea and an empty garage is little bit like heaven. I clearly remember my 30th birthday party. I loved being 30. It was a great decade for me. I turned 30 with two degrees under my belt, lots of great friends, exciting fun times and late nights.
I clearly remember turning 50. My sweet friends orchestrated a surprise party for me (at my own house!) with the theme of "I love Ronna" --I was so overwhelmed by their acts of kindness. It was truly a standout moment for me. Well, this year I turned 60. SIXTY. 6.0. When I turned 55, I was so glad to qualify for the discount at the Movie Tavern. But while 60 is a new decade, this year does not bring with it any new perks. You have to be 62 for most senior discounts and 65 to qualify for Medicare so I guess being 60 is like being a Sophomore in High School: you are not the new kid on the block (Freshman) and you can't drive or have your own prom (Junior.) 60 is the "middle child." So, I guess I will just sit and bide my time until 62. I still have great friends and fun times but no longer any late nights. Conclusion: 60 is just being old without any perks. I was recently reading a book where the character talked about having a journal. She said that having a journal was better than a diary because having a diary meant you had to do daily entries. And that was too much.
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AuthorJust Ronna: Random Thoughts, Random Topics. Just thinking out loud. Archives
April 2026
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