As The Crow Flys

Let's be honest here. As life goes on I find that I have seriously ratcheted down my expectations. Had to - I'd found that trying to get everyone on board, up and at 'em! etc. etc. just ended up with me nagging all parties involved. I'd be frustrated that they wouldn't get out of bed and get going and they felt badgered, out of sorts and hang doggy because I was always nipping at their heels. Obviously my "step up to the plate" plan needed some fine tuning. 

So I'm learning not to expect a lot. From anyone. And that's probably for the best but sometimes...

Needed new underwear. Those of you in the know, understand it's not as simple as walking into your local store. They have to be ordered. A little advance planning usually covers most situations. Unfortunately things were getting a bit frayed here at the homestead and I was delighted to note that the distribution center had popped that package onto the Federal Express truck early last week and I had anticipated them arriving this last Saturday.

Didn't happen.

I check the tracking number this morning... Delivery is a ways off.

Know where they went? 

Los Angeles.

Apparently it was too much to expect anyone to notice that the address read - Burbank, WASHINGTON. (Had the correct zip code also.) But, silly me, the only Burbank is in California, right? Just outside of LA???

You know one of my favorite sayings used to be:

Best to aim high and miss, than aim low and hit.

High Expectations? Shoot. Anymore I get excited if they even get in the right state.

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