Spring FEVA!

Oooooh I've got it!

And ..... I'm not gonna lie. It does, to a certain extent, resemble the fever for the flavor of a Pringle.

My favorites are the salt and vinegar. Come to Mama you little darlings.

Spriiiiing Fever!

Fever. Cleaver. Beaver. Weaver. Bereaver.

Bereaver.

Now there's a twist.

I'll admit, I am a bit of a Bereaver, but WITH a fever. And I do have some Flaaaava. Come one. You've seen my Beyoncee shoes. You cannot tell me that is not some fierce FLAAAVA!?

Why? Why you ask?

Why a bereaver?

Becasue I'm pretty sure I'll have a parking ticket when I go to my car....

Ticket. Schmicket.

Please go on ahead and STICK IT. Pat. The parking police.

Oooooh yes! I know you're name. Patty-Pat Patterson.

NOT to be confused with Pat PETERSON who was ......well ...... a lady in my church when I was growing up that would sing for special music.

You know. "Sing".

Side note, I'm not sure who, exactly, was in charge of asking her to sing? I think she might have typed the bulletin or something and just put her name in there every so often?

Nonetheless her special music was very special.

Very, VERY special .... and not so much what I would really define as "music" ... unless of course, Mr. Neff was accompanying her on the saw.

Yes. You heard me correctly.

THE SAW. The tool used to cut wood.

....AND also, double as an instrument during "Amazing Grace" about once a quarter.

Or perhaps more often than that if you live in Appalacia?

I will say that is was indeed "amazing" and did require quite a bit of grace.

It is one of those memories that you have from your childhood that really cannot be replaced. And somehow makes you a better person for having endured it and remembered it. Fondly-ish.

It's the kooky things like that that make you a real person. Without pretension. A person that can laugh at yourself. A person that does not bore easily.

And believe you me, Pat Peterson and her whirling saw are one in a miiiilllliiiion stories I've got like that.

Yep, it's the stuff like that, that make you you....and in the end, are the things you laugh about at dinner parties and love somehow....

Now don't get me wrong. I don't love Pat Peterson nearly as much as Sue Drummer.

SIGH! Sue Drummer. Oooooh. Her flashy nails and shiny lips and a purse full of fancy mints. Not much tops that when you're a kid.

Poor old Pat Peterson didn't stand a chance as number one in my heart.

Not next to that loving bag of Lifesavers!