Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks! I don’t care if we ever come back!
Tomorrow night is the big game my boys (son and grandson) and I are going to see between the Madison Mallards and the Mankato Moondogs at The Duck Pond. Seriously, that’s the name of our ballpark. We ain’t got nothing if we ain’t got schmaltzy sappiness in this city!
I went to the store and bought treats to take into the ballpark. I know that that isn’t exactly kosher but the Gr-Son shouldn’t consume artificial dyes and preservatives or much sugar because he is hyperactive. So I thought it best to go prepared with stuff I know won’t get him off and running that I know he enjoys and doesn’t get often. I got some of those natural white cheddar Cheetos which have no dyes or preservatives so they are healthy fried puffs of empty calories which BTW, I love; some FUZE, which makes all kinds of claims about being a slenderizing, revitalizing, blah,blah,blah energy drink but basically I think it’s just a slightly fruit flavored bottle of water in a fancy bottle; it tastes good and I’d rather pay $1.69 for FUZE that will entice my Gr-Son away from despair over not getting the Soda than pure artesian spring water I could go get on my own if I’d go looking for the springs around here; AND I got some CrackerJacks because I remember how much fun it was when Grandaddy handed them out to all of us kids when I was a little (and besides what’s a baseball game without CrackerJacks?). How’s that for a lovely run-on sentence? I’m trying on my Faulknerian style for you literary types tonight. Did I succeed? <heh>
I’ve really been writing a lot lately and feeling pretty good about it. It’s getting easier to write without a cigarette burning somewhere but still, I have a hard time sitting at the keyboard for long without getting the heebie jeebies.
I “quit” smoking Halloween night. My little Gr-Son inspired me. He would have a fit when ever he saw me having a smoke or saw my cigarettes. He’d even steal them and rip them up or hide them. He would say “Grammy, cigarettes will kill you!” What is so poignant about that is that his Gramma on his Dad’s side died unexpectedly of a brain aneurysm. I can’t die on that little boy. Not anytime soon anyway and certainly not from cigarettes.
It’s been 7 months and I’m still on the Chantix. This would be hell without it. It’s merely purgatory with it. sigh… I am going to get a hypnosis tape because I’m afraid I’ll go right back to smoking a pack a day or better once the Rx is gone. I’ve been cheating pretty regularly, buying one here and there for 50 cents. I smoked for 41+ years. I’m a full blown addict.
I liked smoking, loved it. I don’t miss the coughing though. Or the stink in the house. And Patches is much more friendly. Now she wants to sit on my lap all the time or better yet, hang out onthe back of my chair. That’s sweet.
Well, I’ll keep struggling with it. Keep quitting.