This past week I was blind, depressed, happy, hungry, eating a Popsicle, could see. Sorry I ate broccoli.
Scared of a bear, loved, hated, dismissed, lonely then so busy I wished I was in a cave alone somewhere.
A nuisance, a helper.
Fussy, crappy, mean, sweet and nice.
The cats pajamas and no one’s friend.
Forgetful and remembering the small stuff to everyone’s dismay. (Explains why everyone was mad at me)
Talkative and silent in one conversation.
Lying to the grandwrex and then telling them the real truth about something else.
A money lender and a reminder that you owe me.
You do realize the whole “Beckdawrek” persona is bogus – “she” is actually a 6 foot tall, 250 lb long-distance trucker out of south western Montana name of Joe Beck. Plenty of time on the open road to dictate “down home” stories into your phone, dont’cha know?
Happy “Mother’s” Day, Beck.
(Beck expects me to post something hare-brained every once in a while.)
Many years ago in the dialup/AOL days of the internet there was a chat room called “The Book Shelf”
It was full of regulars. I still communicate with a dozen or so. One of the members was a very bright and precocious high school girl named Agnes. after a few years we found out that seventeen year old Agnes was actually a man in his forties that managed a tire store in Florida named David.
He had us catfished the whole time decades before that name was given to fooling other people on line.
Beck, I’d tell Cecil that he is missing out, but he probably spends Sunday mornings looking up all your posts for the previous week to help him relax for the day.
Happy Mother’s Day and just plain happy day to you. You haven’t vexed me yet. You’d better get to work on that, if it’s a goal.
