Hello, bloggers. I'm signing on for the first time (just what did you THINK the title was about???) at some insistent urging from friends and coworkers. It's not because I've always had a burning yen to blog - in fact, I find it curious that other people even care to read one person's thoughts without some solid evidence that it's worth the time - but I know a handful who will read this if for no other reason than to poke fun at me.
It's also not because I'm motivated by any political, religious or otherwise zealous fever to spread the word. Those who know me accept that spreading words isn't my reason for living. I think the reason behind this blog lies in the blog topic - laid up, over and out. Two days from now I undergo total hip replacement surgery and will be at home for at least six weeks. After initial recovery, I plan to start working again - from home - but there are a lot of hours in the day and my friends want to make sure I don't have time for mischief. As if there couldn't be plenty of mischief in words. Heh.
So, while I have no particular topic in mind at the moment, I have a tentative plan to chronicle activities, situations, inspirations and recovery progress during the next few weeks. After that, we'll see.
My first activity of the Hippy Shakeup is to color my hair. It's an unusual silvery hue right now, but my hairdresser has been pushing for an experiment, so today I turn myself over to her and let her transform me. Most likely, I'll look quite the same but with a wig.
Also happening this afternoon is the installation of handrails. If a THR (that's total hip replacement) doesn't impress one's age enough on the fragile psyche, handrails are guaranteed to decimate. Handrails! They're for OLD PEOPLE. Old people smell like cabbage. I don't smell like cabbage, so why do I need handrails?
One last word about my signature: seems I'm in the midst of identity crisis. Once upon a time, I was just Kendy. Then I had kids and became Mom. Then the kids started breeding and suddenly grandmotherhood was upon me. I became Beerma, which distinguishes me from the other grandmas in the family. Also because I like beer; as my oldest grandson said at the charming age of 2, it's Beerma's favorite soda. And the title was a gift from a former housemate. Jim, here's to you.
Thanks for reading,
KendyMomBeerma
