I Awoke With a Start!

To the telephone's ghastly ring...
Who on earth could be calling at ten a.m. ?
There are only two possible answers to this question:  One, there is a problem with one of the manufacturing plants in China. Or, two, it is my husband, Chas's, grandmother, Ms. Agnes Dixon. Ninety-eight years old and still a thorn in the side of anyone that crosses her path, including the dead.  And so when the phone ceased to ring via voicemail, I decided, through the haze, that breakfast was in order.

Breakfast for me is a science; one slice of Hollywood bread, toasted and dry, and an amber moon.  After the yolk slid down my throat, I called the voicemail.

It was Agnes, and it seems that she had sent her "girl", to picking blackberries yesterday, and that she and her girl would be over at one, promptly, to force said blackberries on yours truly.  Something about Jell-o or jelly or jam.  The amber moon had not yet taken effect.

Anyway, dearest reader, I was hoping to tell you about my two other children and my husband today, however, Grandmother Agnes is on her way and I know better than to get in her way.

I am many things, but a stupid woman is not one of them.  On the bright side, the liquor cabinet is still full, and a visit with Agnes will definitely take my mind off of the whole Shaker Heights/ Tway wedding thing.

And I do like blackberries, brandy perhaps?

N