Linda Lou

Linda Lou is the best friend ever. She buys you presents when you invite yourself to her house to stay for a week. If you ask if you can have something of hers, she gives it to you. I’m not talking cookies. If you say, “Your ring is gorgeous. Can I have it?’ She gives it to you.

I love her because her idiosyncrasies are stranger than mine. In case you didn’t know I can’t stand to have trash in my waste paper baskets. Leaving a dirty glass or spoon in the sink will cause me to have a restless night sleep. But do you know anyone who hangs her pajama-ramas on hangers? I don’t. Linda always looks stylish even when she goes to bed. She owns slippers that match all of her pjs. She doesn’t don yoga pants and a 1995 Penn State sweatshirt every single night. Linda also washes the bottoms of her shoes before she puts them in their original box in her closet. She doesn’t know about the option of throwing caked on muddy shoes in the garage to deal with later.

Linda's house is immaculate and looks like the centerfold for Better Homes and Gardens. Her shampoo, lotion, soap and nail file match the decor and hue of her bathroom. Her cupboards are neatly organized, even the plastic storage containers. I can never find the right lid to fit the container at my house. I didn’t check, but I bet her canned goods are alphabetized.  I tried that once but I didn't like to mix my canned veggies with soups or fruit.  Then where do you put gravy and sauces?  So they have their own little section in my pantry.  Then again Tony does all the cooking, so I try not to stress over its organization.  The labels, although, do need to be facing out.

Linda is stylish: put together from head to toe. She always sports the perfect jewelry and the cutest shoes to match her outfit. I don’t know for sure, but my suspicions are high that she wears matching under ditties, too.

Some things I do have in common with Linda. Like me, Linda is a worrier. She plays the “What If” game better than I do. Others things we don’t have in common. Being a nurturer, she takes care of family, friends and pets of family and friends. I, on the other hand, like someone to take care of me. We both experience unusual events in our lives that we can laugh about afterwards. Both of us had terrifying encounters with snakes. A water moccasin blocked her way out of her front door, but a poisonous snake hasn’t ever bitten her. Like Tony, her husband Mel drives an old pick-up truck, but he hasn’t run her over yet. Both of us love dogs. She owns a purebred Dachshund named Louie that I call Stretch. Louie rips apart his expensive bed, eats plastic toys and swallows acorns. But Louie has yet to take a bite out of the game warden’s derriere like Harleigh, my mutt from the pound, that never learned to use the doggie door. We both love to shop. Linda is the ultimate shopper: the Energizer Bunny of bargain hunting. We both love jewelry, handbags, sunglasses and shoes.

Linda makes me laugh. Best of all, she makes me feel like I am not the only crazy person this side of sane.