I’m gluing the cookie jar’s
lid shut because anyone looking inside won’t find cookies.
It’s this way. I’ve
rearranged things. The wooden container from the funeral home is now a footstool;
I’ve made a cushion top and it’s very nice. But I couldn’t rest my feet on it
so my husband’s earthly remains went to a better place.
The cookie jar is a cheerful
affair, a squat bear with an always smiling face. I’ve never used an endearment
for hubby before, but since he’s changed addresses, why not start now?
Honey Bear.
Every day he’s got a twinkle
in his eye.
