Perhaps I merit an “A” for effort. One of my granddaughter’s school sent me an email to buy some gifty things at a commercial website. I tried, but somehow while I was attempting to verify the security of the site before entering my credit card information, my entire order got swallowed into the deep hole of cyberspace before I checked out. By then I was tired of shopping, tired of filling in the forms, and frustrated that all was lost. I never got around to returning and ordering anything.
Soon after, another granddaughter’s school sent me via snail mail (a novel approach) an order form for thousands of magazines. I perused them all, but nowhere did I find any that I would read with the exception of “Southern Living,” and I would only read that, if I ever found myself away from my computer. I used to buy old magazines that I like at the library for 25 cents each. Now, all the magazines that I enjoy are no longer in publication. These days it seems I rarely read anything printed on paper. I guess you could say I am an environmentalist wanting to save trees, as I do all of my reading on my computer. Anyway, I was going to forge ahead and order the “Southern Living” magazine, but before I got it done, her mother phoned to say that the “fundraiser” was finished, and that I didn’t need to order anything. I continue to be forever behind the curve.
My DAR chapter has fund-raising every year selling Christmas ornaments, wrapping paper and now candy. Like we all really need chocolates! I ordered some wrapping paper once, but by the time I remembered to go and collect it, Christmas was over and I had to save it for the following year. However, at least I could eventually use the wrapping paper. By the time Christmas rolled around, I had forgotten about all the “dated” Christmas ornaments that I had purchased to give as gifts. Now if I give the Christmas 2005 ornaments for Christmas 2007, the recipients are sure to think that I bought them at a bargain sale.
Therefore, it was refreshing that my three youngest granddaughters were hanging out at a neighborhood Fall Festival last Saturday and invited us to see them in costume. There was no fund-raising involved, other than buying cookies and sodas. One granddaughter was dressed as a chicken, which is a Halloween costume handed down from her older sister. It was a warm October day, and the little one was much too hot in all that plush fur. Besides, chickens don’t have fur, do they? The oldest sister had on a raggedy poncho, which we were told made her into Clint Eastwood. Neither Grandpa nor I understand why an almost three-year-old would want to be Clint Eastwood for Halloween, so we didn’t ask and her parents didn’t tell. However she seemed to be much happier and enjoying herself more than the little granddaughter with the furry chicken outfit.
