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Steve is Bela; I’m Boris

Two of my favorites, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff.

I was about to start making a Wuss-out Wednesday post when I realized it was only Tired Tuesday.  However, my sweet husband, Steven, has the next two days off, so it is his Friday.  Therefore, I thought of using this photo.  Other than that, I don’t got much.

I went running earlier, so thought I could make a Running Commentary post.  Unfortunately, I don’t think that is going to work out for me.  I used up all my oomph before I ran, finishing my article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine and typing up a couple of scenes for a murder mystery.  I was pretty impressed with myself that I ran at all.  I was rewarded for my effort by the feeling that my legs actually had muscles in them.  Yay, me.

Incidentally, regarding the headline, I’m not really Boris. For the main reason, I would never call my husband an idiot.  Additionally, my voice is nowhere near as melodious.  Wouldn’t that be a kick, though, if one day I magically woke up with Boris Karloff’s voice?  That would rock.

Is this post turning into a Non-Sequitur Tuesday?  That belongs on Thursday, for heavens’ sake!  I can’t even keep my own features straight! Then again, that’s par for the course on Tired Tuesday.  Let’s hope for better posts as the week wears on!

 

What I Did with my Oomph

OK, OK, time to do the blog post.  I don’t know what it is about me on Saturdays.  I have no ambition to do ANYTHING!  I had a minimal amount of oomph this morning, though, so I will write a Scattered Saturday post telling what I did to use it up.

I knew I wanted to write a couple of postcards and walk them to the post office, as I usually do on a Saturday morning, but I had also started a letter to a friend I wanted to mail.  For one reason, in the letter I mentioned a fabulous party Steven and I are planning for October, and I am hoping this friend will attend.  I have been writing the letter on breaks at work, rather than working on my novel or better blog posts. Don’t judge.

I thought the letter was nearly done. Imagine my chagrin, therefore, on pulling out the letter and discovering that the fourth page only had part of one sentence written on it.  I can’t send out a letter with the last page most blank!  What a waste of a stamp!  What a disappointment for the recipient who thinks it’s a four-page letter and it’s only a three-page-and-one-half-sentence letter!  I finished the letter then wrote only two postcards.  Time was passing and I had several errands I was hoping to run.

It was a very pleasant walk to the post office, a beautiful day: not too hot yet, a little cloudy with a lovely breeze blowing.  I had considered not walking to the post office, because I wanted to get my running around (by that I’m afraid I mean errands; I’m still not back to running yet), but decided to not get what little exercise I had planned was not the best use of my time.  I continued on from the post office toward Main Street, thinking to make it a longer walk.  However, as I headed up Main Street the sun came out from behind the clouds and it started to get warmer.  I decided to compromise on a medium-length walk.

Then it was on to the errands! After gassing up my vehicle, my first stop was at Melfe’s Shoes in Ilion, NY (stand by for the obligatory Roxy reference).  I had found a pair of shoes that would work for my character in Roxy (that play I may have mentioned a few times).  It is a pair I have had for a number of years but never wore much.  The costume designer said they would be perfect.  It was fairly traumatic for me when the heel broke as I was taking them off after the first rehearsal I wore them at.

My own attempt at repair had failed, but I had great hopes of Melfe’s. You may have read about Melfe’s Shoes in this blog, as I go there once a year for my work shoes.  They are very helpful.  Today the young man was both helpful and kind as he explained to me how no repair was possible and that if they took my ten bucks to try I might possibly get two wears out of them but surely no more.

After Melfe’s I went to K-Mart, where I was able to find everything I wanted, including bobby pins for my hair for Roxy (ha ha, got two mentions of it in!) and allergy pills.  I got the kind I like to take every day but decided to wait on the kind that is good for sinus headache.  After all, I have not had a sinus headache in a long time (under the heading Should Have Seen That Coming, guess what I’m fighting as I type this).

My next two stops were to the Goodwill store and to Linda’s Consignments in Herkimer.  I mean to write a whole post about Linda’s, because I had a wonderful conversation with Linda and bought a marvelous hat.  Perhaps I could work on that tonight and thus avoid having Wrist to Forehead Sunday tomorrow.  In the meantime, I see I am over 600 words.  I don’t like to tax my readers’ patience and writing this has given me just a little bit more ambition.  Let’s see how far this dose of oomph takes me.

 

No Oomph?

I was thinking today that I could very easily end up writing a blog entirely about How I Can’t Write a Blog Post. I would probably want to call it something different from Mohawk Valley Girl, though.

Well, I don’t think anybody could blame me for not having any Mohawk Valley adventures last week; I was sick. So what can I write about this week? If I had more oomph, I would come home from work, have a Mohawk Valley adventure and write about it. And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

As I search for something new to say about not having anything to say, I was surprised just now when my computer seemed to consider “oomph” a word. I thought it was, you know, one of those words people use that isn’t really a word. It means, you know, whatever it seems to mean in the sentence. I thought the word origin was the noise people make when they heft something heavy.

I looked it up in the dictionary after writing the above paragraph (Steven keeps one by the computer) (The American Heritage Dictionary, Third Edition, New York, 1992). It says: “n. Slang. 1. Spirited vigor. 2. Sex appeal [Of expressive orig.]”

So it seems I am right about the word origin. I guess I used it to mean spirited vigor. I mean, not to brag, but I have PLENTY of sex appeal. Sex appeal in SPADES! DRIPPING with sex appeal!

Sex appeal, as you may know, is of very little use in the composition of blog posts.

I hope you have enjoyed this week’s Wuss Out Wednesday.