Tag Archives: old age

Because sometimes bigger really is better.

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Since skunking my husband at Scrabble has become a weekly pastime… I decided to up our game.

Literally.

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Bigger tiles for the where the hell did I leave my reading glasses now? visually challenged due to encroaching decrepitude crowd.

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And a much bigger, fancier, wooden, swiveling board with raised ridges to keep the letters in place.

How much bigger?

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Well, the box said giant and that’s a pretty apt description.

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So far we’re loving it.

But I’m afraid it’s going to have to be a permanent decorative fixture… because if you think the board is big, you should see the friggin’ enormous box it came in.

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Sad backyard news.

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I knew it would probably happen, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take.

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Our little blue eyed Bambi is all alone now.

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We haven’t seen his mother, the old always pregnant doe, for weeks. She was nearly skeletal the last time she visited and I think her poor old body just had enough.

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I’m glad she taught the little guy this was a safe place for his daily nosh. I just hope he can hook up with the rest of the herd before the full brunt of winter sets in. There’s safety in numbers when you’re a little fella.

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