"THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead.............."

 Hair is a big deal with the Senior Set. I speak from experience, when I write that  hair and hairdressers are the number one concern, of many of our female residents. And, for a few of our people, there is only one hairdresser, in the world, good enough for them.....the one that they have been seeing for years!

We have an experienced, qualified and excellent cosmetologist, working in a nice salon, right here, in our building. She does haircuts, on both men and women, wash/sets and perms. Many of our residents are pleased with her work.

Unfortunately, a few of our folk refuse to make a change in hairdressers, when making the move to our building. They refuse to use our in-house salon, saying that they want to continue seeing the hairdressers they have had for years. Okay. We are fine with that. It is a free country. However, not only do they want to continue frequenting their "old" stylists, they want us to provide rides, to and from these other businesses. And, because we won't, they have gotten pretty snippy about it.

Listen up folks. A hair cut is not a life and death decision. A hair cut is bad or good for about three weeks., or a month at the most. Then, chances are, you might need another one. The same goes for a permanent wave, which is, in spite of  the name, never permanent. 

In the 19th Century, a woman's hair was considered her "crowning glory". That was 200 years ago, and times have changed. Ask anyone who has lost hair, due to Cancer or some other illness, and they will gladly put the subject of hair, in perspective for you. 

Your hair does not define you. Wherever you choose to have your hair done, let's hope that your hairstyle improves your looks and your disposition.

Dearest and all-knowing Lord. I know that some of our prayers sound like demands. Show us patience and give us temperance. In Your Name we pray.

Cookies

 In corporate America (at least in the middle of the country), office workers are gifted with Christmas Cookies, and other types of sweets. I'm writing about the edible kind of cookies, not the things that appear in computers. I don't know how to explain computer cookies, but I do know they are not to eat and are not a good thing to have in your hard drive.

So, as I look at the counter in our main office, I see: 4 cans of cookies, 3 boxes of Russell Stover Candies, 2 tins of popcorn and a dish of fudge, on a nice plate. Yes, I know that sounds like a song. And, I am not complaining, I am enjoying every bite I take.

What is it about sweets, during the holidays? They're often what we give. We gifted some of our folks with Sunflower Seed cookies, this year. And, sweets are what we expect to receive. So far, we have Danish Kringle, Cranberry Bread and Candy-coated Chex Mix, in our fridge at home.

Of course, if we enjoy those treats, we'll have to do a bit of dieting or at least cut out the sweets, in January. At least that is my current plan. Meanwhile, don't bother me, I'm snacking.

Dear Lord, at Christmas we eat sweet things and we hear sweet music. We remember sweet thoughts of Christmases past and Christmases to come. We praise Your Holy Name.

Oh, Fudge!

Fact: I can't make fudge. Chocolate Fudge. Easy-Peasy Marshmallow Cream Fudge. Peanut Butter Fudge. You name it. Any kind of fudge. 

It's hereditary, or maybe I have a mental block. My mother couldn't make fudge. Let me rephrase that. She made a lot of what I believed, as a kid, was fudge. And, I was a grown woman before I realized that a pie tin full of chocolate goo, in the fridge, with a spoon stuck in it, wasn't really fudge.

She meant well, and she kept trying. I suspect, that like me, patience wasn't her strong suit. Runny fudge is caused from not boiling the liquid long enough, so that the chemical properties of the sugar change. But, she was an optimist. She believed to her dying day that, if you put the undercooked liquid into the  refrigerator, it would eventually "set up". It never did.

I was recently gifted with some absolutely delicious Peanut Butter Fudge. I shared it with my husband and we both agreed it was the best stuff ever! However, given my history, there will be no "asking for the recipe".

Fudge is my wake up call. It's a tasty reality check. Whenever I get too full of myself, I am often mentally reminded of that pan, on the Kelvinator shelf. Only God is perfect and can do all things. We are a limited species. We all have a "fudge" in our lives. 

Great and loving God. Reminders, of our fallibility, are essential. Please, watch over us and keep us focused on our road to You.

Another Win for Spell Check

I love my job, and I have no plans to take on another one, but after reading the local newspaper this week, I briefly considered offering my services, cheap, as a Proof Reader.

At the beginning of the week, a headline ran....."Kansas City Chefs Win Another One". What?????? In case you might be wondering if our town fields a team of culinary experts, every year from August to January, you're mistaken. Although, our local "Que" is considered some of the best in the nation, we don't have a team of Chefs. Note to the Kansas City Star.......Remember? The Kansas City Chiefs won the Super Bowl in 2020. 

Today, I was reading an obituary and discovered that a recently deceased woman has obtained her relater's license, and had been employed as a relater, for many years. What is that? Shouldn't the article have used the word, Realtor?

Ms Stevens, Ms Besse and Ms Ludlow. Please, forgive these folks for not proof reading their copy.

Dear God. This is the season for giving thanks. Remind us to be forgiving., also.

Hello. This is Nancy. May I help you?

 One of the most amusing aspects of my current employment is answering the phone. I would never have thought such a task could bring me such pleasure. Every call is an adventure.

Take for instance the resident, who called and complained about someone ringing her doorbell and running away, before she could get to the door. As my custom, I thanked her for the report and promised to look into the matter.  What I wanted to reply, but didn't, was "This is a senior housing complex. No one here can run that fast!"

At least once a day, I get a call asking for directions to our facility. I have learned that the first thing to ask the caller is...."Where are you now?" Occasionally, I get the answer, "I don't know." Of course, I try to help the person to find our site, but seriously...If you don't know where you are, it's difficult to give directions, to somewhere else.

Folks call and ask if we have elevators and if they go up. Yes, I always reply. We have four elevators, and indeed, they do go up. All of our apartments are accessible by elevator. What I want to say, and never do, is.........and DOWN. But, never SIDEWAYS.

Due to the Pandemic, we have restrictions on visitors, which means folks are dropping off more and more items, for our residents. I get calls announcing the arrival of the item(s). The caller always adds, "It's perishable." I take the items, and say "Thank you."  What I want to say, but don't, is...."Just how perishable is it? So, is it ice cream? A hot meal, maybe? Or is it laundry detergent, with a specified expiration date? Can you be a bit more specific and explain, to me, your understanding of the word perishable?"

May I help you? It's a phrase that will live in infamy.

Dear Lord. Thank you for humor. Thank you for blessing me all day, every day. Help me to see the uniqueness of each of Your children. 

Life happens!

 I finally have to admit that my body shape more closely resembles the word OOPs, than it does the word Thin. Chances are, at my age, this resemblance is pretty much here to stay!

I drive a smallish SUV, and I am also small........height wise. Someone parked too close to my car today, and I couldn't wedge my small round body into the door opening. I couldn't squeeze myself, into our car, no matter how hard I tried.  We had just finished a visit to the eye doctor and my husband suggested that I go back into the building and ask the receptionist to locate the driver of the offending car. But, I'm the "go-to-gal". I solve problems for a living. I thought I could handle the situation.

So, first I climbed up into the back seat and attempted to crawl over the console to the front seat. That might have been a good solution, except I had already deposited my semi-mobile husband in the front passenger seat.

Next, I decided that Scott needed to exit the car, so I asked him to get out and lean up against the car. His walker was already deposited into the trunk area of the car, and I was, by this time, exhausted and in no shape to lift it out and back in again. Once, in the, now empty passenger seat, I would attempt to crawl from the, now empty, passenger seat, over the center console, into the driver's seat. At this point, I need to add, that I had worn a long straight skirt to work and to the appointment. Therefore, I had to hike that skirt up to my middle, exposing the lower part of my body to the entire world, in order to make the climb.

Well, it worked. I yelled at my poor husband, who was leaning up against the outside of the car to "get in".  He did and I started the car. About that time a car, across the parking lot, that had been facing our car pulled out of its spot. the couple inside were laughing like crazy. I assumed they had witnessed the whole fiasco!

What a day.

Dear Lord. We are such funny creatures. Thank you for your love and guidance. give us peace.