I Broke My Scooter

I haven't blogged in a few days because I've been busy.

Busy moaning, crying, gasping, pouting, etc.

My scooter broke.

You know how when you are in bed and  you scoot your bottom over to get more comfortable?

Can't do it.

I am locked down, stove  up, tore up, messed up and hurt.

For some reason, when my bottom wouldn't scoot, I panicked.

Husband tried to calm me down, and moved me for me until I got comfortable.

I went to the chiropractor, but couldn't see the woman who has helped me before.

So I saw somebody else.

And now, I'm worse.

I got a massage yesterday and couldn't get off the table. She had already left the room so I could get up and get dressed. I had to holler, "My bottom won't move!" She graciously moved me for me.

This has got to stop.  I'm beginning to feel cheap and tawdry.

Wow! Tawdry would be a great Scrabble word!

I dug out the tinge unit, and of course the batteries were dead. They finally charged,and it gives me some comfort.

Tonight we are going to "The Atlanta Christmas Musical". Husband's first cousin is the co-writer to the score. We have tickets. Husband's Baby Sister is coming from Alabama.

MUST GO.

So I'll be electrocuting myself all night with a touch of muscle relaxant and pray for the best.

Toss a prayer up there for me, will ya?

Detour!

Every time I start to the studio to work on the novel I'm writing, or to check mail, or to play scrabble , or to blog, I get detoured by the garden.

We have consumed four tomatoes already, and there are at least four more ready by tomorrow. I picked a small bowl full of green beans this morning. Squash is still blooming. Onions need pulling.

Now, obviously, we don't have a big garden. Just a few raised beds.
But it's so much like receiving a gift every time I walk by, it makes me get all excited. 

Not to mention hungry.

So, while writing, and e-mail, and playing scrabble, and blogging are fun, it's not as much fun as playing in the dirt, and coming out with food.

It's just like magic.

Let the Games Begin!

My daughter invited me - or challenged me - to a game of Scrabble.

I thought I loved that game.

 I hate that game. I only love it when I'm looking forward to it, missed a few days of playing it, or if I have a Q and U that I can use in a really cool word and get a triple word score for it.

That ain't often,  my friend.

I did get forty something points for one word once. I made her count the score three times before I believed it.

Then we looked up the highest score ever and it was for the word Quixotry. And it was in triple word score place with a few double word counts and the guy got over eighty points - for one word!

He also scored the highest total score ever scored in Scrabble.

Me?

I still think Vyber should be a word.