Olio

I've never seen or heard the word "olio" used in any context other than a crossword puzzle. Because it's a short word that's rich in vowels, puzzle writers tend to overuse it in the same way they do a few other words having those same characteristics: aloe, alee, alias, etui and that well-known cookie, Oreo. Anyway, I'm glad that crossword clues have taught me that "olio" is a synonym for "mixture" or "jumble" or "hodgepodge," because that's what today's post is.

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I never announce that I'm going to take a brief blogging hiatus because I never intend to do so. It would be more accurate to say I just fizzle out now and then and, in that vulnerable state, allow a brief blogging hiatus to overtake me. One day piles on top of another until I know it's been too long since I last posted, but by then I can't think of a single thing to write about. (The strict grammarian in my head keeps nudging me to change the last sentence to read "...a single thing about which to write." Sometimes I hate that prissy old biddy.)

Anyway, I'm back. I think.

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Mother's Day was wonderful. We had our traditional celebration with a crawfish boil at my daughter Kelli's house, but with one major difference from past years: a raging thunderstorm that kept everybody under the carport instead of scattered around the swimming pool. We had to speak loudly to hear one another over the rain on the tin roof, but we had some of the best group conversations we've had in a long time, and I loved every minute of it.

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On Kelli's refrigerator, held by a magnet, was a letter-sized sheet of white paper on which four-year-old Owen, my great-grandson, had used a blue marker to draw a line that looped and swirled all around the edges and connected to itself in one corner. It was, he had told her, a map of the world.

I was standing near that refrigerator when I spotted an opportunity to compliment Owen on the drawing. "I like your map of the world," I said. Indicating a spot on the paper, I asked, "Where's Louisiana? Here?"

Owen raised his eyes from the hot dog on his plate to glance at me for about two seconds. His mouth said, "It's not a real map." His face said, quite clearly, "How stupid are you?"

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There are two dog beds in my bedroom: Levi's on the right side of my bed, Gimpy's on the left side. The dog beds are identical except that Levi's blanket is brown and Gimpy's is tan. This sleeping arrangement seemed to be fine with everybody for months and months until Gimpy decided a few weeks ago that he prefers Levi's bed to his own. He's slept there ever since. So has Levi, who must not have wanted to swap.

I sleep on the right side of the bed, too. This new arrangement makes navigation a little bit tricky when I need to get up in the middle of the night.

Spooners: Gimpy on Levi's bed and Levi with his head under my bed.

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Speaking of sleep, the upper respiratory virus I had for so long (still coughing) seems to have put me in the habit of taking a long nap every day--a bad habit I'm only now beginning to break. I love the fact that retirement gives me the freedom to take a 20-minute, pick-me-up nap when I need one, but a long nap in the daytime makes me groggy and keeps me from sleeping well at night. It also eats a big hole in my (semi) productive daytime hours, leaving me depressed about the lack of accomplishment. 

So. Today I've written a blog post. Now I think I'll go unclutter some surfaces. That'll be two accomplishments. That isn't many, I know, but it's an improvement.