This SYW Challenge comes from sparksfromacombustiblemind
She says: I will post four or five different questions each week for you to answer.
Are you an Early to bed, early to rise person, a night owl and day sleeper/dozer, or an ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ person?
I don’t. Sleep that is. Well, I do, I mean I must, right, or I wouldn’t still be here at 70. But I have never been able to pull off anything considered normal or regular, apparently not since I was 18 months old. So it was perfect to have a job for almost 40 years that had me “on call” 24/7.
My sleep record in recent years is almost 5 hours in one stretch. Usually it’s way less. I often sleep in two segments…2 hours in, I wake up and am ready to roll since my body thinks we’ve just had this great nap. I trick it, into thinking we are up for the duration and do something inane for a while and then we go back to bed and usually pull off a longer stretch.
For the last 18 years I have had an almost daily NAP! A ritual started as a way to connect with my slightly feral cat. We got to the place where I could say, “Zorro, wanna take a nap with me?” and he would beat me to the bed…and then wait for me, no matter how interrupted I had been.
Zorro passed away in September from kidney disease.
I have not had a nap in 82 days. I still can’t do it……
I get really wordy when I haven’t slept. Can you tell what kind of a night I had last night?
What are some misconceptions about your hobby, should you have a hobby?
Uh, I raise Giant Spiny Australian Leaf Bugs that get to be about 8 inches long.
What do YOU think of that?
A penguin walks through the door right now wearing a sombrero. What does he say and why is he here?
Dance lessons start in five!
Aliens have landed…do they come in peace?
They’re not Here, They’re not Coming
From the Arizona desert
To the Salisbury Plain
Lights on the horizon
Patterns on the grain
Anxious eyes turned upward
Clutching souvenirs
Carrying our highest hopes
And our darkest fears
They swear there was an accident
Back in ’47
Little man with a great big head
Splattered down from heaven
Government conspiracy
Cover-ups and lies
Hidden in the desert
Under endless skies
Well, it’s a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No time for heroes, no place for good guys
No room for Rocky The Flying Squirrel
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
Turn your weary eyes back homeward
Stop your trembling, dry your tears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my brother
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Would they pile into the saucer
Find Orlando’s rat and hug it?
Go screaming through the universe
Just to get McNuggets?
Well, I don’t think so, I don’t think so
It’s much too dangerous, it’s much too strange
Here in a world that won’t give Oprah
No home on the range
Well, it’s a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No authenticity, no sign of soul
The radio won’t play George and Merle
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
‘Til we put away our hatred
‘Til we lay aside our fears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my sister
They’re not here, they’re not coming
To this garden we were given
And always took for granted
It’s like my daddy told me
“You just bloom where you’re planted.”
Now you long to be delivered
From this world of pain and strife
That’s a sorry substitution
For a spiritual life
Well, it’s a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No place for sentiment, no room for romance
Bring back the Duke of Earl
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
Turn your hopes back homeward
Hold your children, dry their tears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my brother
They’re not here, they’re not coming
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Not in a million years
‘Til we put away our hatred
And lay aside our fears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But I promise you, my brother
They’re not here, they’re not coming
Lyrics from Genius
What are you really, incredibly thankful for this week?
My husband, my son Michael, my grandsons Julius and Luca, all of whom live with me in a house I have owned for 43 years.
I don’t know how I could be any more grateful for a building than I am for this 110 year old, funky, maze of a house that has supported me, more than 40 other people and countless animals living here over all these years.
https://sparksfromacombustiblemind.com/2018/11/19/share-your-thankful-world/
