April 9, 2020
“‘Enough’ is a feast.”
It is another day of isolation as we stay in our apartment in order to avoid becoming infected with the coronavirus. It is not as easy as I thought it was going to be.
I miss my being able to visit with our family. My hair has grown and there is no place to get it cut. Our housekeeper can’t help us clean our apartment since she is also staying home. We can’t socialize with our neighbors and friends. In other words, being kept from our normal life stinks. But:
- We have adequate food to eat, while others don’t.
- We have a comfortable place to live, while others have no place to go.
- We have income from our pensions, while others have no income.
- We are sickness free, while thousands are hospitalized.
- We have each other while many have nobody.
So in reality we are doing so much better than we realize.
Count Your Blessings
by Kelly Johnston
Count your blessings instead of your crosses;
Count your gains instead of your losses.
Count your joys instead of your woes;
Count your friends instead of your foes.
Count your smiles instead of your tears;
Count your courage instead of your fears.
Count your full years instead of your lean;
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.
Count your health instead of your wealth;
Love your neighbor as much as yourself.
“Gratitude turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity…it makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”
Bernie had a fight with Rachel, his wife, and went to the movies to cool off. Later that evening, he decided to phone home to see what the situation was and maybe even apologize.
“Hello, darling,” he said, “what are you making for dinner?”
“What am I making for dinner? After all the horrible things you said to me earlier, you want to know what I am making for dinner?? Poison, that’s what I’m making, poison.”
Bernie replies, “Okay then, just make one portion, I’m not coming home.”
How can you add one to infinity?
There was a knock at the door. It was a small boy, about five years old. Something of his had found its way into my garage, he said, and he wanted it back. Upon opening the garage door, I noticed two additions: a baseball and a broken window sporting a baseball-sized hole.
“How do you suppose this ball got in here?” I asked the boy.
Taking one look at the ball, one look at the window, and one look at me, the boy exclaimed, “Wow! I must have thrown it right through that hole!”
Learn to disagree without being disagreeable.
Dear Cats and Dogs,
When I say to move, it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two of you in the way.
The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note – placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn’t help, because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything larger than a king-sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort.
Look at videos of dogs and cats sleeping. They can actually curl up in a ball. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but sarcasm.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit trough the same door I entered. In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years; canine or feline attendance is not mandatory.
The proper order is to kiss me, then go smell the other dog’s or cat’s behind. I cannot stress this enough. It would be such a simple change for you.
“Dogs come when they’re called; cats take a message and get back to you later.” Mary Bly
Cat’s motto: No matter what you’ve done wrong, always try to make it look like the dog did it.
I didn’t believe in reincarnation the last time, either.
A big-city counterfeiter decided the best place to pass off his phony $18 bills would be in some small hick Texas town. So, he got into his new wheels and off he went.
He found a tiny town with a single store. He entered the store and handed one of the bogus bills to the man behind the counter. “Can you change this for me, please?” he said.
The store clerk looked at the $18 bill a short time, then smiled and told the man, “Ah reckon so, Mister. Ya want 2 nines or 3 sixes?”
If you really want the last word in an argument, try saying, “I guess you’re right.”
She said: We’ve been letting our six-year-old go to sleep listening to the radio, and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a good idea. Last night he said his prayers and wound up with: And God bless Mommy and Daddy and Sister. Amen and FM!
I don’t have a solution but I really admire the problem.
“He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.”
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies. The editor is somewhat senile.
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