Jot as the Wind Blows

I reckon I can jot.
Jot jot jot.


Remember January 2019? It was work, drive, jot, sleep.
And so was January 2018.
And there’s just one more day of jotting. I need to rustle up a door… Can I though? Can I?

That cold came. It’s cold. It’s zero. The wind is bitey. There’s a delay at school tomorrow, which I fail to understand, as when they go, it will be a whopping one degree instead of negative three degrees… not sure it’s worth the fuss.

Fuss. That’s what I’ll do if I jot any further. I shall go lie down now.

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Very January, So Tuesday

Well, it’s Tuesday, and despite honoring the Tuesday with two layers of pink clothing to ward off any bad juju, I had to go back to the doctor for another round, or should I say, an upgrade in antibiotics? Yay. Don’t get me wrong, I remain astounded by modern medicine, just not how I want to spend time.

Also, I miss my retired doctor. We had a good relationship. Or, I did. If he really cared about me, he’da worked until I died even though he’d been my doctor since I was 11 and people don’t usually work until they’re 120 years old. He wanted to travel and write. The gall of him. Pfft.

Otherwise, it was a good day.  I crossed two things off my list. I broke into my orange slices.

Wicked cold comes this way tomorrow. The Indianapolis Star and everyone I talked to today told me so. Thank you, Wisconsin. We’d really hoped for your August weather, but clearly we’ll be getting your January weather instead.

“Wednesday’s high is 1 degree below zero, coupled with wind chills of up to 33 degrees below zero and wind gusts that can hit up to 25 mph. The temperature low is expected to drop 7 degrees below zero on Wednesday night, with wind-chill values as low as 20 degrees below zero, according to the National Weather Service.”

Winter ProTip: It’s easier to stay warm if you hop or stomp and swear with every breath.

Now, that’s warmer than had been predicted and as I’ve mentioned, weather is relative. People so dramatic, “IT’S COLDER THAN ANTARCTICA!” I roll my eyes. Sometimes it’s hotter here than in Florida, okay? Still, even I, lover of winter, think that’s too cold. I know I’ll survive because several years ago, I stood at the bus stop for over a half hour with my kids when it was -19 feels like -40 and I lived. I don’t know why we had school then but not tomorrow. So inconsistent. Schools and universities are closed tomorrow. There’s work, of course. Not too keen on drivin in the snow squalls, though. The Mister took the day off and said he will drive me to work. I will like that.

I like my husband.

Soon, I’m going to bed. I also like bed. It’s especially nice on a very January Tuesday.



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Twas a Orange & Gray & Green Day

Lemme show you.

See, first, when I arrived at work, there were orange slices on my desk.


A HUGE container of orange slices. Way more orange slices than I should ever be left alone with, okay? Office Assistant is always buying us yummy snackies and so I went to Mentor, “Did Office Assistant bring you a special treat, too?’
Mentor answered flatly, “No she did not, and she didn’t bring you a special treat, either.”
“Did you get me these?”
“I did!”
That was so nice!


The glare is over the serving size, because they don’t want me to know that the serving size is half an orange slice four times a year.


At noon, I went out for the prompt of the day photo was ‘sky’. Please note this photo is in color, it was truly noon, and yes, that is the bleary sun.


Snow and freezing rain on their way.



Then I came back in to eat my jello and my apple, and I realized, I had a bit of a green theme goin on today.


Yes, there is something wrong with my hands, but you knew that, don’t stare.

I managed to eat my yogurt this afternoon, but I never did get to my orange slices. I wonder if they miss me the way I miss them?

How was your Monday? Any sweet treats? Colorful surprises? Impending weather changes?



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Jot Jot Sunday



I did all my laundry yesterday.
Today I made spaghetti carbonara.


And that’s all the jot there is.

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Jotting the Add

Additionally I must do this SoCSing thing and I think more like ADD, not me, but plenty of people in my life, distracting themselves while I’m over here like “FOCUS!” but then in truth, I could afford to not focus quite so muchly and that is the way of brains. So go our differences.

Adding is better than subtracting, because borrowing. I cannot borrow in my head. It changes two numbers at once. Adding only adds more numbers when you carry. But in subtraction, it’s borrowing and carrying. I can’t keep track of errant numbers wanderin round my head, runnin into lists and data storage. I don’t have a number lasso for fuck’s sake. There’s no border collie in there, herding the numbers around. By the way, it’s called regrouping now, the borrowing and carrying.

Also, math comes with properties now. I’m not sure when math got properties, but sometime after I got a bachelor’s in Not-Math and before Moo got to 4th grade. Her brother and sisters already knew about the properties, but I had remained blissfully unaware. Maybe it’s always had properties and they were withheld from me. No idea.

Sometimes I argue about math with one of my teacher friends. She contends the new math is awesome and I’m like how can you grasp that mystical sudoku bullshit computation and yet you struggle with the right usage of ‘your?’ and that, too, is the way of brains.

I have now written a post about math and so it’s time for me to go away and question who I am and what it all means.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘ad/add/AD’ and Just Jot It January are brought to you by LindaGHill

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Friday, January 891, 2019

The January. It is eternal.

I just got home. I JUST GOT HOME. I am still dressed. It’s an utter atrocity.

I took my shoes off. My brown booties though, my favorite pair. Any time I wear them, I look down and smile, “Y’all are so cute!”


I’ve had these since we moved home. They’re wedges. They’re getting worn out. They’re resplendent with goodliness and character. One day they will die and I will be sad, so I don’t wear them very often.

I had an extremely productive day at work. It was so satisfying. I finished things. Mentor had a brainstorm at 2am and brought me her ideas thought to fruition at 10am and by 11am I had processed that brainstorm and was making progress. I walked by her door, “Good talk! Good talk!” Wow did we power through!

We had yummy yummy working lunch with the bosses and that, too, was productive.


Then I went to the school where The Mister and I both played usher for the theatre, then I watched the show and he guarded? the doors. I saw a lot of people I enjoy. I kissed The Mister during intermissions and that was ooh la la. After, I took some people here and there and thank heavens, CAME HOME.

Bit of go off and on tomorrow, but it should be the good kind. Yay!




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#ThursdayDoors — Kitty’s Shed

These doors are brought to you by Moo, who knows good doors when she sees them. She spotted these in Kitty’s snowy yard and sent them to me so that well all may enjoy them.


Thank you, Moo.

#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.



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Jot Jinx

I’m not sayin I jinxed it, but I was home sick today. Then I was at the doctor’s office sick. Then I was at the pharmacy sick before being home sick again. I feel much better. Mostly I’m relieved and grateful the anxiety of it is over. Modern medicine is amazing. People suffer and die from ailments that can be treated effectively in … 6.5 hours. It’s been 6.5 hours since I took that first pill and that’s amazing.

I had fever dreams today.

I was out riding my old ten-speed when I came across Ronald Reagan sitting in my grandfather’s Oldsmobile and he needed me to drive him home, so I did and then I just sorta took the car? There were only 44,000 miles on it and it was white, so I think it was a reasonable theft for dream world. I took pictures of the old fashioned buttons and levers for this blog, too, but there’s no way to share them here.

That’s the jot.


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Everything’s Coming Up Roses. On Tuesday?

It’s not. It’s not coming up roses. It’s January. It’s coming up slushy, messy, dirty, icy, slidy — but it seems I am part penguin? I simply slide on through.

I am experiencing an unusually pleasant series of circumstances wherein things are about ten times better than I expect. A few weeks now.

Me: There are too many things going on.
Life: I’ve canceled the things!

Me: This will not reflect well upon me.
Life: You’re amazing!

Me: This ain’t gonna be good.
Life: This will be excellent!

Me: Erm, this feels like a crisis.
Life: Nah, Girl, you ready.

Me: This is gonna cost a bloody fortune.
Life: Nope, not even close!

Me: I smell shit nearing the fan.
Life: Only the freshest air for you!

I never know what brings these things on. At my best I’m human sunshine, but I’m not at my best all the time, cause human. Anxiety disorder is real and fear gnaws at me. Still, I try to roll with it and I aim keep my mindset positive.

I am superstitious enough to think that writing about it might jinx it, but then I’m hopeful enough to think even if that’s the case, it’s worth sharing.
Good things happen all the time.

The other shoe won’t drop. The other shoe is fiiine.



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JusJoJan Echo

Still Jotting


Echo, hm? The Mister was part of Echo Company. I forget all the things. It was so long. So long that any time I told people the things, they’d tell me that was too many things, and I’d say what I’d been taught to say, which I no longer remember, because one of the great joys of my life is not having to recite and write that stuff everywhere I go.

“Baby, what was the thing?”
*narrows eyes*
“Echo Company thing.”
“Echo Company 3rd BSB FSC 3/69 AR BN”


He had different jobs based on location, stateside and … holy hell, I forget the words, isn’t that fantastic? Not stateside, the other.

“Baby, what’re the words for not stateside?”
“In country.”

Yeah, that. It not make sense.

The last few years he was HR, somethin about S-1. If you’d ask me what he did then, I’da told you he delicately managed the raving delusional madness of his narcissistic boss and babysat grown men using only the Uniform Code of Military Justice and a cell phone.

So anyway, that’s what Echo means to me. Shit I don’t have to recite anymore.

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