Hallo. If anyone remembers me, I'm back. Actually, LivingDust is back by popular demand (all three of you, thank you CAE, Betty and Crissy).

My sister and I love our Cream of Wheat lumpy. The lumpier the better. There's a fine art to making lumpy Cream of Wheat. It needs to be sufficiently lumpy and those lumps must vary in size. Great big monster lumps and dainty little itsy lumps and many graduated sizes in-between lumps. The first rule is to not follow the directions, which insist you stir the wheat into the hot water gradually, whirring your spoon constantly. This is not a problem for me because I forget to follow directions and lump, I mean dump, it in the water all together. And the wheat smolders and fumes and...wha-la!...you have gorgeous lumpy cream of wheat. Nothing like biting into a cream of wheat lump. There are just no words, so you shall have to try it yourself. Go ahead, live a little.

Speaking of living a little. This is what happened last Friday when I was jaunting about town but shouldn't have as I was mid-way through sinus junk. I was going down an avenue and passed a sign that said, YARD SALE. I did a U-bie because it was a house I've always thought looked neat and tidy. And...you just never know...

I was the only customer and the lady seller was very friendly. But I didn't see anything to buy (which always makes me want to slink away invisible like). Until I noticed this big bright blue plastic...thing. It looked like a bed pan, if the truth be known. So I said to the lady, What is this? "This" was a chip and dip bowl. It was round, of course, and then there was a smaller round elevated indentation in the middle for the dip and the chips would lounge below in the big circular area. Ha, wonder what you are picturing. But, the long and the short of it is, it reminded me of a cat toy I have resisted buying at the pet store, my second home. The cat toy is a circle where balls roll around and the cat spins and chases them, around and around. Supposedly. Well, this chip and dip had the circle element since the chips would lay around like in a tire, with the dip part up in the middle. Oh, I already said that. So, I could put these noisy rattle plastic balls for Robby right in there and he could chase and chase.

Man, I am rusty here, I simply can not describe this. Moving forward...

So, I said to the lady, How much? She said, I'm selling it for a friend (figures I pick an item that's not the lady's) for 50 cents. I said, Well, I may as well live a little and get this for my cat. She said, That's right, take a daring moment, make a bold move. I said Yeah, and if I don't like it, I can put it the garage (even though we don't have a garage). She said, Or you can sell it at your next yard sale (I gave up selling my junk on my lawn ages ago).

Well, we got to laughing about all this. And I handed over my hard earned (Mike's hard earned $.50) and marched down her driveway with a neat new toy for Robby.

I came home and washed it out. Mike said, What's that? Duh, what do you think??

I sat it down on the floor and put two rattle balls and one small soft foam ball in the rink. And waited for action. Robby! I called.

Robby ran up, took one look of sheer disdain, and kept on going. He appeared not even remotely enticed and seemed to sniff, Can you possibly be serious? And that was the end of that. This blue freaky plastic donut object has now been sitting on my floor for a week. Every now and again I go by and give the balls a spin. Just for kicks (yeah, I want to kick the blue donut to the curb). I guess by Saturday I will stuff it into my Goodwill bag-in-waiting. Balls and all. I guess I can be glad I didn't buy the Deluxe Pet Store Circle Chase Version. Which would have emptied my pockets of $.50 multiple times over. Yes, I am glad indeed.

So, you might say this blog cost me $.50.

Now, I have my LUX digital timer, I'm sure I've talked about this in the deep recesses of the blog. Yes, I know I have, it was going to drastically alter my life for the good. Well, I dropped it off my night stand onto the floor. And then it wouldn't work anymore. I was afraid it took some freaky little button battery, which I don't even know how to buy, and also, I was afraid to get the back cover off to get to freaky little battery would leave me with half a head of hair, you know, if it entailed working with eyeglasses itsy bitsy screwdriver. So, I let it sit and gather dust for a while. Finally, I ventured forward. I discovered, upon bold and closer examination, it took a baby battery, but a normal looking batter, only miniature. Then I realised you merely yanked off the battery cover (which was disguised behind a magnet to plaster timer on fridge) and it was all very easy. We even, no way, had the right battery. So, I changed out the battery, thinking maybe I killed the old one in the drop. But still, no life on the LUX screen.

So, now what, that timer was a good $10. And I'd hardly had it anytime at all, ha, ha. So, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to drop it again. So, I dropped it real good, with the original battery in it and everything.

And now it works just dandy. You may take this information and do with it as you please.

Okay, I'm about to end this post, but I KNEW there was one more pertinent topic. I have finished reading the book Dewey. Of course, KEM'S normal is to jump to the end of the book and read the final pages when the moment strikes. So, about half way through Dewey, a few weeks ago, I jumped to the end and read. Bawled my eyes out. BAWLED. I may have told you this already. But there is more.

I went back to the middle of the book and read straight through to the end. Which meant the other night I read the ending again. And BAWLED my eyes out. OUT!

THEN, two nights ago at dinner I told Mike the end of Dewey. And bawled my eyes out. BAWLED! Mike said, STOP THAT, you're making me cry.

Now, there is something to be said for a book that can make you bawl equally well all three times you read or disclose the ending, and all in such close proximity. I don't doubt for half a second that if I picked up the book right now and read the ending again, that I would bawl my EYES out! Again!

The author, I love her. You will love her, too, when you read Dewey. Vicki Myron is her name and making you cry is her game. She is a sensible, salt of the earth, wonderful mid-Western woman and I just love her and want to be her friend. I might have to be obnoxious and visit Spencer, Iowa (Iowa that marvelous state that just exercised great wisdom with their judges in the election) and see the library where Dewey lived. Forget Lancaster County and the Amish, I'm on my way to Deweyville.

Okay, tomorrow I must write about Quik Chik and the 8 layer cake, or I may forget what happened and have to make it up. And I wouldn't want to do that because what really happened cannot be beat.

My blood is good except my vitamins D and B12 are drastically low. How a person living in Florida can be low in vitamin D, the sunshine vitamin, I should love to know. Leave it to KEM, who stays cloistered in her 4 walls. Really, I need to make drastic changes in myself. This morning lying in bed I thought about how deficient I am in vitamin D for the bones and I truly felt all my bones turning to ash on the spot. My sister understands this exactly.

Oh, DTD was over here today. I went upstairs to shower and dress for choir rehearsal. When I came down I was wearing black jeans, a dark brown top with a white tank top underneath that showed a little and a long roomy blue, brown, green and cream floral sweater with sleeves down to the elbow. Oh yeah, and my rain shoes, which are black soft clogs, hideous in the extreme.

I kind of slunk by DTD and gave her a funny look. I had a bad feeling. I asked, Do I look like a dork, or what? She said, with a funny look herself, which bode no good, Actually, I thought you look cute, you look like you didn't just roll out of bed and throw on any mismatched clothes.

WELL. Now, this was a surprise, I thought I looked like a total dud. Honestly, I need a complete and expert makeover. I gravitate toward the plain Jane of everything, clothes, colors, hair style, make up, jewelry, you name it, except you don't have to because I just covered it all. Normally, I don't wear anything loud and busy like that sweater. And, to tell you the truth, DTD'S expert opinion notwithstanding, I don't like that sweater. I don't feel good in it. How can this be? I don't feel good about the right things maybe? I feel good about Dullsville stuff? I need psychiatric help. I need to learn how to live a little, beyond buying a used blue plastic chip and dip at a yard sale.

Better end today's blog or it may run into tomorrow's blog.

Nice chatting with you, my friends, except that it feels like a monologue. Someone, some day, should leave a COMMENT. Hint, hint. I do thank Deb, who has left several comments in the past. Thank you, Deb. I think Mike left one once, too. And Veronique about the Curious George post. And a couple of others. But, hey, listen, I've written 387 posts, as of tonight, and I can count on both hands the number of comments. Ugh. Depressing. Oh, I did love the comment from some cute young stranger guy who liked my post on Crest White Strips. Now that was great. But that was a million years ago. And if any of you are really following this blog, maybe you should own up to it and become an official follower, eh? I would like to double my number of followers from three to six. Seriously, I KNOW at least six people read this blog at least from time to time. So why not live a little and do something bold and drastic and sign on?? It won't even cost you $.50. Turn my :( to a :) You have the power :))

Pesky Lil' KEM