Stats

Stats. 

 I've been interested in how many people actually read my blog.   There are programs you can use, but I they don't work for me.  Literally.  I'm quite computer illiterate.

Now I can find out stats on blogger.  Since I've added my blog to Facebook, my readership's sky-rocketed.  A week ago I had a record 69 people.  Reading about lil' ole' me and my musings.  Holy cow.   I used to average 10.   The stats can also tell you where they come from:
 Facebook,
Google. 
And a number of other assorted sites.

I'd love to know who you are. I don't get any comments except from a few.   And not that often.  So you are the Silent Majority.   If you  feel like it,  and are comfortable about it, could you let me know if you're one of the them?  I don't mean to "out" you or anything like that - it's just curiosity and thanks on my part.  I won't post names, unless given permission.

I am touched by anyone who reads my thoughts (literally.)  In other words, I don't write about much, but some people find them readable.  Good.

On to my fantastic life:  Mother's Day was very very nice. 

We went to church and got there late, so while Paul was getting his earphones from the back, I snuck into one of the back pews to not make a "scene." and he joined me.  When I looked up, there were two huge gentlemen sitting in front of me. They looked to be in their twenties, maybe professional sportsmen - football or basketball.  I couldn't see a thing, but they asked me if I'd like them to move.  They moved, much to my embarressment.  (I had whispered to Paul that I couldn't see a thing.  It must have been louder than I thought.)

We went to the Harbor Hotel for their early afternoon Mother's Day dinner buffet in their banquet room.  Linen table clothes, napkins, candles.  Four different long "stations" with salads, main courses, desserts, and a beef prime-rib carving station.  Just wonderful.   It was exactly like I remembered it last year, except  for the  harpist.  Last year we'd gotten there for  the breakfast buffet.  Perhaps she was there Sunday  like last Mother's Day.

It didn't matter.  Everything was elegant.  The desserts were overwhelming.  I shared one with Paul - Oh, my.  No dinner Sunday night.

Both of my grown children sent me flowers.  And called me.  Nancy's flowers arrived on Saturday - two dozen red roses.  They were/are still beautiful.  Bill's, to his chagrin, didn't come til this  morning (Tuesday). It had a lovely note.  It's  fine with me,  because it makes Mother's Day last longer.  Bill complained, and Flowers.com admitted the mistake.  They took half off his bill, and gave him a gift certificate toward his next order.  That was nice.    I also got a card from step-daughter-in-law, Dorothy. 

Saturday was sunny and clear so  we went up to the Wind Mill.

  Without exaggeration, I would say there were over a thousand people there.  Easily.  It's hard to find a parking place, but we did.   The Wind Mill is a farmers' market sort of place, run by the Amish, but also includes people who rent space to sell their produce and products.  Four big long buildings, and an outside street with attached "stores" on either side.  No cars allowed.  We weren't looking for anything special. We just wanted to walk around.  We'd taken Gracie before.  Somehow we decided not to bring her.  I think every dog in the area was there.  Big and little.  Lots of purebreds.   Even a 6-month old papillon that was the same size as Gracie.  So - next time, Gracie. 

 She did go to Home Depot with us yesterday, sitting on a towel in the cart-seat.  What a lot of people came over to pet her and tell her she's so beautiful.  She eats it up.  (We do too.) Tail wagging, licking everyone whose hand came within her licking distance.   Even one of the young guys that work there brought a small doggy treat over to her.  She DID eat that up. Really.

So - anonymous - think about letting me know who you are.  I won't  tell. 

That's all the news from here.  How're things goin' in your neck o' the woods?