March 22nd, 2019

This is a picture of the HGTV Dream Home 2019.  It's in Whitefish Montana.  By all accounts a magnificently beautiful place to live.  Darned nice house too.  We did not win again this year.   Some nice lady named, Beverly from Osgood Indiana won.  I'm happy for her.  No really I am. Honest!  When I read the email I said, "Congrats Beverly!" with a big smile on my face.  I mean, I actually said those words.  To my email. Out loud.

I don't know how long HGTV has been doing the Dream Home contest, but I've been entering for years.  And not winning for the same number of years.  At this point, I think I only enter out of habit. I already know ahead of time that I'm not going to win.  It's a very painless process entering this particular contest.  Two clicks and it's done.  Takes so little time that it's not of any consequence at all.  And everytime I do another entry I say, "Done!".  I don't just quietly think the words.  Nope, I say them.

The Publishers  Clearing House contest however, I do not bother with that one anymore. I just can't.  It's so time consuming.  Just moving ahead from page to endless page trying to get to the "Next" button irritates me. I find myself talking to the computer screen saying things like, 'I have never bought anything and it's clearly marked as an option to buy anything so why would you think that suddenly I will change my mind and buy someting!!"  Yes, I said that out loud.  And No, the computer screen, thus far, has never answered me. (thank goodess).

I also find myself occasionally talking to baked goods.  When I have a cake in the oven, I will open the door to check on things and hear myself say, "How are you doing?".  To the cake.  In the oven.  Out loud.  

If I cook a particularly success meal, sometimes I will say, "You are just so pretty" and take a photograph.  I suppose I should be embarrassed by that, but I'm not.  However, if I make a meal that didn't turn out very well sometimes I stare at it and ask, "What went wrong?"  Yes I am blaming the dish. Not the cook, but the dish.  Out loud.

After I've fixed dinner, served dinner and I have moved on to cleaning up after dinner, I don't just pack up leftovers and load the dishwasher.  I also clean the sink, wipe down all of the counter tops, the fridge handles, the stove top AND  make certain that all of the burners are off.  And I have heard the following words occasionally come out of my mouth while doing so, "Are you off?"  Did I expect the stove to answer me?  I hope not.

I was trimming yet more palm trees in the back yard yesterday afternoon.  One of the branches that I cut slipped down and tangled itself around other healthier branches and I couldn't seem to get it loose.  I tugged and pulled and re-positioned it over and over.  Finally with a mighty yank, I yelled, "Let go for heaven's sakes" and, and, and....it worked!  That was a surprise and a little concerning.  Did the tree actually release it's hold?  Or was it just a co-incidence?   Hmmmmm

When we had pets I always talked to them.  Not just sit and stay.  But things like, "Isabelle, please stop scratching the furniture, get down from there, stop doing that, leave your sister alone, stop shedding all over my work clothes, get off the table, get off the counter, get out of the Christmas tree, stay out of the Nativity scene, leave that alone"  Isabelle was a handful.  I know she heard me because her ears would tick back, but she totally ignored everything I ever said.  She was a cat.

However, my dog, Lucy, she would look me in the eyes when I talked to her.  Sometimes her head would tip to one side while she listened.  She would listen endlessly, patiently and with no judgement.  If I was sad, she would lay her heavy head in my lap while she listened to me, or lean up against me.  If I said any of her favourite words like, "walk, play, or any of the boys names" she got excited and started dancing around.  If I said stop, she stopped.  If I said quiet, she was quiet.  If I said come, she came.  She was a dog. And a very well behaved one at that.

But while neither the cat or the dog ever answered me when I talked to them at least I didn't look like I was insane. I was talking to another live being.  Not the stove or a cake.

I'm fairly certain that I haven't completely lost my mind yet. And I'm pretty sure I'm not crazy (although if I was, would I know it?).  And I still know who is president, my children's names, the date and how much is 7 times 6 so I don't believe dementia has set in.  Yet.

I am thinking that this might be a family trait, this talking to inanimate objects thing.  I do remember my Nana talking to.....her knitting, her baked goods or herself.  And I even remember my teasing her when I was a wise-ass teenager saying, "Are you talking to yourself again, Nana?"  And one day she snapped back at me just a quick as a snap saying, "Of course I'm talking to myself.  I need intelligent conversation some of the time."  Ooooo. Good one!

I'm going with that.  Thanks Nana.