Feeling hot, lethargic, about to faint? Eat a pickle.
Not just any pickle. It has to be one of those 6 inch long, salty, salty, salty, dill pickles you just plucked from an iced pickle barrel. One at Disneyland gave both DD and I the power to tackle the park, and its 100 degree temperature with vigor. Probably it is the salt, might be electrolytes, maybe the vinegar, or even the curative powers of the cucumber, whatever, I now believe in pickle power.
This was the second time a genie in a pickle saved me, so I think there is something to my hypothesis. (On top of it, that whole cucumber pickle reminded me of ones my Grandmother used to make.)
Okay, yes we were at Disneyland again—I told DD and Baby D that we would go the day after I got the check in my hands for the Hawaii House sale. That was Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday we rode every train we could find at Disneyland—Baby D is into trains.
Sold houses, and Disneyland, and pickles are all mixed up into a happy dance. The Hawaii house sold, yea, yea, yea. This is the first time in over 40 years that we have not been home owners. It’s okay. I think I have gypsy blood in me anyway.
The nicest people inquired about the house from a site called HorseClicks. On that site you can list houses, horses, tack, trailers for free. Nobody from that ad bought the house but they all seemed like people I would love to have for friends. Many people want to leave the cold and move to paradise. You who have read my blog over the past couple of years know it was an adjustment.
Why would anyone want to leave paradise?
For another paradise.
Onward, upward and ahead from Joyce
