INK ON PINK

or
THE ADVENTURE BEGINS ...

Warning: always, always, ALWAYS check pockets -
especially when you are sure they are empty!

Be paranoid - go ahead! you have my permission.

We had a nice trip to visit family last week.
I wore my pink pajamas.
We did not sing ('Comin' Around the Mountain')
and I don't care that now they have nasty ink spots -
 on pj's who cares?

It is my green shirt I am sad about (see a glimpse of it here)
 and some other things ...

We got home late enough to use our front room as a dump until this morning. Then I began the laundry. I sorted, emptied and gathered from home and sorted - old and new - we bought several 'new to you' shirts for my husband. Like new condition at Value Village usually is $5 - $10 for a name brand shirt that in stores usually  prices between $25 and $60. His sandpaper, neck whiskers destroy collars in a few months and VV is an excellent budget solution.

The first batch buzzed. It was mostly the lighter colored dress shirts David wears to work every day. As I started to transfer the load to the dryer I spied ink on my light green pinwhale cord shirt with the appliquéd leaves. Of course it is a favorite of mine. It is one of those 'throw it over a T and jeans' and be ready to party shirts. I dig it out of the back netherlands near the first frost of the year and don't tuck it away until Thanksgiving is over, done and dead.  (And yes, I did buy 2 back when - a burgundy one and this green one).

 GGAAAHHhhhh!!!! A PEN!

What else might the ink be on? (The pj's soon showed up.)

The culprit was discovered on top of the next item down and promptly lynched - execution style, directly to the nearest garbage. At least it had the decency to only leak!

Then I found the ancient but warm neutral sweater -

 a victim that will simply join the pen.

And last, but not least, a shirt. Not just any shirt. The one I like! You ladies know - the one he could care less about but you try to coax him to wear ...

As I finished emptying the washer guess what I found - go ahead - try ...

I was so surprised!

Another PEN?!?!?! you've got to be kidding me.
Two for one! 'If that don't beat all'. How can that even happen?

Please send you personal favorite tricks and tips for ink removal.
Since I have an abundance of ink stains right now I will experiment to find out what actually works and let you know.

My first line of defense is always plain water and common sense.  The ink was so thick I could scrape and rinse some of it off with plain room temp water.

Next I applied some detergent and rubbed a bit under running water - almost no ink came out.

I have tried alcohol, see green shirt - it caused it to spread and get a halo even though I had padded the back and was blotting, that I finally managed to get out. Maybe I just need to keep 'dabbing' but I think that shirt will just acquire a couple more appliqués - I will have to decide if it is worth the effort - it is not new.

Does hairspray work any better? Isn't it just alcohol?

I will keep you posted - after I calm down.
After I try a few things ...

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

Harvest Time.
Autumn.
Thanksgiving.
Family.
Country.

These all seem ingrained and entwined in my psyche.
I was born in the fall.
Canadian Thanksgiving is mid October and in the United States it finishes November nicely after both countries honor veterans.

Falling leaves and crisp air carry color and scent past routines
and daily activities to the very chambers of my heart and mind.

Something primal struggles to surface.
I apply many labels but never feel quite satisfied with a resultant full emptiness that wallows in steady exuberant feelings (that I still as they seem too private to shout or flaunt) until snow finally freezes winter into place and melts that confused state of being into the joyous Christmas season.

A loved hymn encourages me to voice some of those labels, thoughts and feelings - sometimes only to myself.

I start listing labels in my prayers, and they seem to pop out of my mouth each time I open it enough  to breathe.

1 x 1 x one x one x 1 x 1 x one x one x 1 x 1 x one x one x -

you get it ....

TRY IT!

Suddenly it is impossible to be discouraged or 'lost' and burdens become bearable.

1. When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,

When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings; name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.

[Chorus]
Count your blessings;
Name them one by one.
Count your blessings;
See what God hath done.
Count your blessings;
Name them one by one.
Count your many blessings;
See what God hath done.

2. Are you ever burdened with a load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings; ev’ry doubt will fly,
And you will be singing as the days go by.

3. When you look at others with their lands and gold,
Think that Christ has promised you his wealth untold.
Count your many blessings; money cannot buy
Your reward in heaven nor your home on high.

4. So amid the conflict, whether great or small,
Do not be discouraged; God is over all.
Count your many blessings; angels will attend,
Help and comfort give you to your journey’s end.

Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 241

Text: Johnson Oatman, Jr., 1856–1922  Music: Edwin O. Excell, 1851–19

ONE

Something needs doing,
Something needs done,
Who's going to do it?
I'm not the one!
I don't have time
I just simply can't,
I have too much to do;
My knowledge is scant.

Somebody ought to -
Someone really should,
If somebody doesn't
I sure wish they would.

Others might suffer
But I can't be the one
Who steps out boldly
For others to shun,
I can't be involved
How would it seem?
My family and friends
May think I'm extreme!

No not I . . .
But somebody should
And 'something needs doing'
Does no one much good.

Excuses and wishes
In thought and in deed
Often leave others
With no one to lead.
Somebody, somewhere
Might need to be me
A choice can be made -
What will yours be?

Occasionally my thoughts run about in my head in the fashion just written here. It puzzles me - are those my own words? or did I learn them somewhere?

I have memorized a few bits of poetry and other things.
But I think those words are my own. (At one time my memory was of great use to me. Just laugh - that was supposed to be funny!)

There are times when we fail to do things we know should be done.
We blame it on our memory or make some other reasonable excuse.

Just today I dialed a long distance call on my phone,
or at least I tried to.

I got a recording, "We're sorry, you must first dial a 1 when calling this number. Will you please hang up and try your call again." What? I swear I did dial a 1 -  why wouldn't I? I know the routine. I have done it a kazillion times at least.

I checked redial - there was not a 1.
CRAZZZZZY!!!

This was a fairly inconsequential thing - I dialed again, with the 1.

There are little things that seem unimportant.
I may negligently overlook them
or even deliberately refuse to take time for them.

Things like smiling at my spouse
or children
or even a stranger,
or letting the kid with only one item
(or the parent with a cranky child) go ahead of me in line
or opening a door for someone,
or speaking a kind word,
or saying nothing at all.

You could add to the list - didn't you wonder about  _______?

Sometimes * siiggghhh*
sometimes my choice is right and sometimes it isn't
and sometimes it doesn't even seem like a choice.
Sometimes it is like that pesky 1.
Sometimes someone else has to give me a reminder
about what is needful and important.

I hope you will remind me as politely as the recording.
Read it again or try it yourself
- go ahead
- you will get the same recording.

And IF I need to remind you, please don't be as cranky towards me as I felt towards that impersonal phone recording.

Yelling and crying or even silently pouting doesn't accomplish what you want or need.  I just needed to dial the 1.  I understand if you are incredulous about a reminder at times. I really did check redial.  I was sure the phone was broken and still wonder if the buttons were sticky or something. Excuses didn't connect my call though. I had to choose to dial the 1.

And the call was important.  If I don't get the required information it will affect many people that are counting on me. They might be very disappointed.

Sometimes I count on you.  Sometimes I am disappointed.  I hope we can talk about disappointments without grudges and recriminations, with kind and cheerful forgiving words.

Choices.

They CAN be such  little things.