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Dear Diary – Today my parents made me laugh. They each have their own chair on either side of the coffee table.  While one is looking at the computer, the other is looking at the tablet, and after awhile, they switch. Frequently, they share Facebook stories, video clips, etc. across the table. Sometimes their timing is off, or there’s glare on the screen, or the clip won’t start…and it irritates the other. This morning, they were each playing away on their own devices, and this weird music started playing. After a few minutes, Mom asked Dad dryly, “is there a reason we’re being subjected to this?” Dad looked at her, slightly confused. She stared back. Tension grew. An eagle whistled, like in an old cowboy movie. Dad broke down first. “It’s not me…it’s you!” We have no idea what she did, but at least it was a catchy tune. They are still speaking to each other.

Dear Diary – We’re doing the Brady Bunch Thing and people can see up my nose…last week I was sent a recording of his vocals and guitar for Sunday’s worship set. It was a bit of a challenge. Do I own a device that will record? Where do I record so Little Guy doesn’t wander through in his pjs? And where is my hairbrush?bad hair

The night before I was going to record, I got a text that a second recording was coming. Since it was going to take a couple hours to download, and it doesn’t cost to download in the middle of the night, I got up 2 a.m. to download. I was up again at 5 to turn my laptop off.

After a pot of tea, I spent the morning learning a new song and practicing with the recording. I wrestled down fixed my hair and applied war paint make-up. In order to add my layer of vocals, I balanced my butt on the back of the basement couch, with my laptop beside me.  I stole borrowed a pair of Dad’s earbuds and started recording with my cell phone.

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After a few false starts and overcoming my anxiety about everyone listening to me caterwauling singing with no music, I got into a rhythm. Four minutes into a thirteen minute set, my cell phone rang. Then…eight minutes into a thirteen minute set, my earbud fell out, for the fourth time and I hollered in frustration. I could discreetly stick it back in 3 times, but 4 was too much!

Once recorded, it took 2 hours to send back to him for the onerous task of putting it altogether. It airs Sunday. I will be available for autographs.

Dear Diary – I was supposed to return Pastor Ann’s cake pans, and I promised her hubby a piece of birthday cake. The cake is still sitting by the front door. The buttercream icing melted. So I baked him banana bread. It’s sitting by the front door…

Dear Diary – I asked my Mom what we did last weekend to finish my “dear diary” post. We can’t remember and my bottle of wine is still unopened. Neither of us is responsible for this…

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Baa…humbug!

Don’t get all weird about getting older. Our age is merely the number of years the world has been enjoying us! – Maxine