ONLY IF WE MUST

How often do you do things simply because you have to and for no other reason? Way too often? Can we talk? How can we work it so that more often than not, we're doing things for the sheer enjoyment of the act? Sure, once in awhile, accomplish that teeny obligatory task and then move on to the Big Fun Stuff. Or instead of interspersing the undesirable doings, save them all for later. Maybe we could do the Big Fun Stuff all week long and save the crap for Saturday between 10 and 2. Whaddaya say? Are you with me on this? Allrighty then, PARTY ON!!! It's only Wednesday! Who's bringin' the dip?

The only reason I brought this up is this: I have this friend, who, for whatever reason, seems to be flagrantly Anti-Blog. If I were to post his picture here, by now he would be wearing rotten vegetables, I'm guessing. I have invited him on several occasions to visit us here, and always in a warm, welcoming way. (How was that for alliteration, Simon?) But he never shows. His loss, we know. So as to not color his opinion of us even more negatively, I will leave it at that. BUT... Today, in conversation he inquired as to how I was doing without the cigarettes. I told him that I wasn't doing badly, although for some reason, last evening was especially difficult. He then asked why in particular I had decided to stop smoking. This surprised me, as I thought I had told him my reason. My reply was "I never told you my (little JuJu) story?"

"No," was answer.

I answered as warmly and as welcomingly as I could. "I'll post it on my Blog," spun on my heel and walked away. Winking, but only on the inside.

Just on the off chance that my invitation was accepted, I feel I should relate my story. Briefly.

My grandson, Little JuJu, just turned 6 years old. He has never seen his Nana (me) smoke. He believes that people who smoke will die. Good, then that he's not seen me smoke, yes?

When the kids visited over Thanksgiving, L.J. found his way to the basement unannounced. The basement is the only place in my house where I would smoke. While he didn't catch me in the actual act, he spied the thing burning in the ashtray. After a thorough investigation despite Nana's warnings not to breathe the smoke, he stalked away muttering under his breath. When I asked him to repeat what he'd said, he simply answered that he'd been talking to himself.

I could not have Little JuJu thinking his Nana would die. So I quit on Christmas night, his birthday.

STHTTMML: A conversation with co-workers in which we (ok, THEY) were trying to think of creative things I could do to satisfy that hand-mouth craving thing since I'm not smoking. I won't go into details, but they decided I can make money at it, too. Yeah, they're pigs. ;-) I'll stick with the celery and peanut butter.

GSL: "Lady Luck's still a mystery with her head on my shoulder/ And I don't know why I still want her to dance. I guess that's all history. What it is is I'm older/ And I'm still a fool for a one-way romance." Sands of Nevada by Mark Knopfler.