The lost is found

Once again, I am indebted to Saint Anthony, this time for helping my husband find his little fold-up magnifying glass. He uses it constantly, so when it gets lost it is a major problem. He had it in the work room and used it on an old telephone he is restoring, but when he came in the house he couldn't find it anywhere. He looked in his pants pockets, in the big purple chair, in his bed, and even walked back down the line of the fence he put up along the wooden fence. No luck. I had thrown out a bunch of old papers into the garbage and we even looked in there. Ughh! Finally he collapsed into one of the green chairs in a gesture of defeat. "Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony" I prayed, half in jest. My husband folded his arms in frustration, felt a bulge in his shirt pocket and pulled out the magnifying glass, in the one place we hadn't looked. Cosidering how much pure junk I have thrown out in the last few days, I really wouldn't be surprised to find out that I had thrown out something we really wanted.
How pleasant it is to sit here at my computer with the dishwasher going and a snack awaiting me in the kitchen when I finish writing, and a new book tape in the record player for our amusement. I think I will boycott the TV for a little while - the political scene is chaotic and Nancy Grace is getting on my nerves. So I will say goodnight to all and I think of you always.