Manifesting Fingernail Files

Welcome Dear Readers. Since I’m going to be on a vacation for the next couple of days, I’ll be fishing some things out of the archives for you.

Manifesting

I don’t know if I’m doing something right or if I’m doing something wrong when it comes to manifesting.

For instance, I am a recently converted White Cake Fanatic, and I am always in search of my next wonderfully delicious piece of white cake with white frosting.

Today when I got done getting my back adjusted at the chiropractor’s office, I was offered and accepted a piece of the most delicious white cake I’ve ever had.

It was so good, it was worth putting my back out for.  So that should tell you something (I’m not sure what, but if you find out e-mail me).

Being offered white cake unexpectedly like that made me think that maybe I actually manifested it.  Or at least my inner sweet tooth did.  Which is wonderful and thank you, Universe (Uni) for arranging that.

Then there was the manifestation that happened the other day.  37, (my husband) and I were both in need of a fingernail file.

Of course, there wasn’t a single one to be found so I made a mental note to buy some next time I was out.

I don’t know why I bother making mental notes at all since  my mental note system is horribly flawed. I think Peanuts, my brain, must be filing  my mental notes using the Dewey Decimal System — which I have always found unnecessarily confusing.

But anyway, the good news is that it turns out I didn’t need my mental note anyway, because I completely manifested a fingernail file all by myself!

For you see within the pages of this 1936 Wear-Ever new method of Cooking booklet I found at the thrift store THE VERY NEXT DAY was a . . . well guess . . . .go ahead guess!

Okay, never mind I’ll tell you. 

A fingernail file!  I kid you not (mainly because I don’t even know who you are).

It happened while I was showing 37 the1936 Wear-Ever Cook booklet — and I was pointing out how it looked more like a 1960’s booklet rather than one from 1936, because it was turquoise and space-agey.  I should know, as I consider myself a fake expert on the subject.

37 was listening and  pretending to be interested when . . . well sir, right then and there in the center of the booklet was a fingernail file! 

(I was even going to end that sentence with three exclamation points but when all is said and done it was only a fingernail file after all — manifested or no.)

Aren’t you absolutely floored that I managed to manifest that fingernail file so quickly and without even really trying? I know! Me too!

Of course, I would have been a teensy more excited about manifesting it, if it didn’t make me slightly sick to my stomach to find a fingernail file in a cookbook.  But still . . . I’m manifesting stuff aren’t I?  And that’s the important thing.

Until next time. . . I love you

Getting Some Extracise

I was doing great, weight-wise, until I discovered the individual slices of cake that they sell in the bakery at the grocery store. I got hooked on the white cake with the white frosting. It’s delicious owing to the fact that it has 100 grams of sugar and 1000 calories in each and every piece. I keep hoping the food police will make a law against it, and it just won’t be there tempting me when I go grocery shopping, but so far no such luck.

I try to avoid stores where they sell it, but that’s only part of the problem. I now have my daughter and her husband, Matt, hooked on white cake. The other night we were playing Scrabble when the subject arose.

Matt:  “Who could go for some white cake?”

Nikki:  “I could go for some white cake!”

Me:  “I could go for some white cake!”

37:   “I could go for some chocolate cake.”

(37 is my husband who is thin and who, even if he wasn’t thin, doesn’t even like white cake, but who can eat all the chocolate cake he wants and it doesn’t matter one little bit because he’s thin and always will be which I don’t have any problem with except for the fact that he makes me sick.)

So Matt goes for some white cake and actually squealed his tires as he was pulling out to get it.

I went to an afternoon tea the other day. What did I bring? White cake.

My daughter is getting married in September, and what am I already looking forward to eating?  White cake.

At this point there doesn’t seem to be any easy solution to my White Cake Conundrum. So I’m doing what I always do when I am eating too much . . . give up the white cake completely.  Oh yeah right . . . who am I kidding?   No, I’ll simply do a little extra exercise or extracise, if you will, to burn off those extra 5000 calories and 500 hundred grams of sugar I’m now consuming on a weekly basis.

Now let’s see . . . Since I’m a 59-year-old grandmother whose metabolism is officially equal to that of an air fern, I’m gong to have to figure this thing out mathematically.

I am now calculating how many miles I will have to walk each week to keep white cake in my life without gaining any weight.

So let’s see here:  1000 calories multiplied by 100 grams of sugar equals 100,000 divided by 1951 (the year I was born) equals 512.55 which would be rounded up to 513 miles divided by 52 weeks a year which means I’d only have to walk 9.8 miles a week divided by 7 equals 1.4 miles each day.

Which is basically what I’m already walking each day anyway (give or take a mile).

Well that was easy.

You’ll have to excuse me now, the white cake store just called and there’s some white cake with my name on it and it’s calling my name.

Until next time . . . I love you