TAG--YOU'RE IT!

Sometimes I feel like a relic in the world of blogging—a little like the frumpy chaperone at the high school prom. I am astonished that anyone could be interested in my old-lady stories.

That’s why I was surprised when I was “tagged” on the blog of a much younger, much cooler person. For those of you unfamiliar with blogging terminology, “tagged” is when another blogger mentions you in their blog. Yesterday, I found that Mama Nash (one of my daughter’s friends from high school) tagged me. Yikes! She challenged me and four other bloggers to answer five questions. So here goes nothing.

Question No. 1: What are you having for dinner tonight? Because I don’t have a single clue what I will be having for dinner tonight at 6:55 a.m. when I am writing this, I will change the question to “What have you been having for dinner the past few nights?” And the answer would be that friends have been bringing us dinner. My dad died a week ago, and wonderful friends have provided my out-of-town family-filled household with meals. One brought the all the fixings for hot turkey sandwiches (enough for a dinner plus a couple of lunches). Another group of friends made an entire lasagna dinner, complete with salad, bread, and dessert. Last night, my daughter-in-law whipped up a batch of her famous vegetable chili while I played outside with my grandchildren. In the midst of all the funeral preparations, I was humbled to find out how many wonderful friends we have. It was hard to admit that I was overwhelmed, but I cannot tell you how grateful I was at mealtimes to just go to the refrigerator and pull out a dinner already prepared. Humble, grateful, relieved.

Question No. 2: What is your favorite and least favorite household chore? I love laundry. It is one of the household jobs where you can actually see the results neatly folded or hanging at the end. When I finish doing the laundry, I put away every last sock so that the laundry room is clean as a whistle. At the other end of the spectrum, my least favorite household chore is vacuuming. Tom is a much better vacuum-er than I am, even moving furniture to get every last dust bunny. So I always feel inadequate as I sloppily zoom around the high-traffic areas.

Question No. 3: What's your middle name and is there a story behind it? My middle name is Clare, and I was named after my mother’s only sister, Clara. Thank goodness my mother had a little mercy and dropped the final “a” and replaced it with an “e.” However, that didn’t stop my siblings from calling me “Clarabelle the Clown” (from the Howdy Doody Show) when they wanted to hurt my tiny little underdeveloped feelings.

Are these questions done yet?????

Question No. 4: If you could only use one piece of make-up for a week, what would it be? What do you mean, if I could only use one piece of make-up? One of the most liberating parts of being old is throwing away your makeup bag. There’s nothing worse than wrinkly old ladies with spackling and caulking all over their faces. Give me my tube of N.Y.C. lip gloss (dusty rose) and I’m good to go. (And most days, I even forget to do that.)

Question No. 5: Who is a famous person that you've met or seen up close? Oh, crap. Now I have another item to add to my already-overflowing bucket list of things to do before I die. I’ve seen famous people from across a crowded arena when they were on stage and I was in the audience. I’ve shook hands with some Minnesota politicians, but only when they wanted my vote. But I’ve never shared an elevator with Brad Pitt or sat at the next restaurant table from Steven Spielberg or met Lance Armstrong biking on the Central Lakes Trail. I’ll work on it though. I promise.

So there it is. Absolute proof positive why I’ve never been tagged before. The end.