Week of Nonstop Thrills Friday Round-Up

Daily writing prompt

Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.

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I’m excited that a political party left for dead on the side of the road was revived by the jolt of electricity that is Kamala Harris. Yes, I already have a Kamala shirt. And a sign. And a pair of Chucks (which I’ve talked about before), and my ever-loving string of pearls which I wore today to a meeting with a black t and a pin-stripe jacket I bought at Goodwill. I was cookin’ and so are the Dems. Pray we keep the water boiling.

I’m excited that I have a crop. Yes, my gangly out of control tomato plants ‘grown’ in pots on the side of our driveway where big trees create too much shade, and I easily forget to water them for days in a row actually have tomatoes! Said tomatoes are, as we speak, nestled in a bowl with cucumbers and onion in a marinade, the recipe for which came from the New York Times! With this remarkable salad, we plan on having the leftover lasagna from a box that we dug out of our freezer on Wednesday. We are rolling high here.

I’m excited that we’re going to watch A Man for All Seasons tonight. What better than to dip a toe into the deep well that is the life and times of King Henry VIII after a week of extreme politicking on TV? King Henry wanted the Pope to annul his long marriage to Catherine so he could legitimately dog after Anne Boleyn but Sir Thomas More, the King’s major guy, would have none of it. His intransigency had a heady price, if you get my drift. People who know say that A Man for All Seasons is the 49th greatest British film of all time. So there.

I’m excited that Swirl seems to have recovered from the unfortunate excavation of a piece of very hard and very pointy plastic from his rear end. I did not do the removal – that’s why there are emergency room veterinarians, thank God, but I saw the offending piece and then no longer wondered what made Swirl, the usually mute dog, yowl on the path of the dog park. He hobbled like Quasimodo all the way back to the truck. It was grim. But now, all is well, nearly, he’s still eating rice and boiled hamburger, but he walks with his tail in the air which is what you always want to see in an old sled dog.

I’m excited that I now own three bathing suits. It wasn’t my intention, but it is now my reality. One of them has flowers winding up one side, totally unlike me, one of them is a brown print, the gist of which I forget, and the last is black. I call that my formal bathing suit. I look like a very old lady in each of them but it doesn’t matter. When you’re floating around somewhere, say with a pool noodle in a coordinating color and a nice hat, who the heck cares?