What a week it’s been!  As some of you know, I managed to survive a graceless fall which resulted in forehead cuts, a protruding bump, and two, black eyes.  (You really didn’t expect me to show my face, but this picture depicts my current status.)  I mopped up the blood, bandaged the wounds, and went to bed with a raging headache.  Then it occurred to me,  “Sue, are you mentally with it?”  I asked my dogs aloud:

“What is your name?  Sue Skidmore.”

“Where were you born?  Youngstown, Ohio.”

“What year is it?  2017”

Well, this nonsense went on for a few more self-asked questions.  Suddenly, it occurred to me if I suffered a head injury, how would I know?  I could have said my name was Mary Jane Brown, born in Ames, Iowa, and the year was 1943.  My dogs wouldn’t have objected.  And if I was crazy, how would I know?

Given my astounding revelation, I practically fell off the bed with laughter.  Absurd lunacy!

Then to add proverbial insult to my injuries, the next morning a guy came by to give an estimate on redoing my kitchen cabinets.  Since the cabinets would have cost a fortune to replace, I hoped Andres would offer a less expensive alternative.  He did.  In my naïveté, I expected: “I’ll be back in three to six weeks to start this project.”

No.  He retrieved from his truck his fancy battery-operated screwdriver and swiftly removed all the cabinet doors.  I was busy dumping stuff from the drawers–stuff from several junk drawers I hadn’t seen in two decades!  Damn, I’ve acquired a lot of scotch tape and too many bottles of the same spice.

“Sue, it will take a couple of weeks for me to get this done.”  Off he went with doors and drawers.  Maybe I did have a head injury, for I spent half the day trying to close non-existant drawers and doors.  A visual nightmare through half-swollen-shut eyes.  Visual proof of my ineptness as a housekeeper.

Ok.  I can survive this chaos.  Until…I read this article today.

I don’t give a rat’s hind end about that trend at my age.  Doors are made to keep out Phoenix dust and to make my kitchen look presentable at a party.  Absurd lunacy!

BTW, I think my real name is Hucklebarrie Finn.  I think I’ve floated down the mighty Mississippi in Hannibal on a number of occasions.  I own 12 pair of scissors and 9 tins of cinnamon.  I have over 20 coffee mugs, 15 random plates, three old skillets, and five aprons.  (Aprons? I prefer a clothes change.)  Message me if you’re in need of any of the above.  Downsizing….