There Are Bubbles Everywhere

This is Bubble Season! Just when I think there are no chances at all that my Oregon Ducks can make it to The Dance and are out of the "bubble", it seems like with a loss here, a win there, among the other Pac 10 teams, there might be a very, very tiny bubble of a chance that we could still go. But then, my bubbles have been burst all season long as the Pac 10 teams continue to beat each other up.

So I started looking at other bubbles. I checked out our sand volleyball court. There it was, full of puddles and bubbles. Who knows when it will dry up enough around here to start our weekly BB Q's and Friends and Family games. We're on the bubble between winter and spring; getting just enough nice weather to tease us. Two days ago it was 70 degrees and now it's hailing and snowing! Even the daffodils are in the bubble; half-way opening, but not quite.

And then consider how Clinton must feel. Now that's a real bubble!

Time to do the superstition thing. I started with bubble gum. A sixtyish li'l ol lady can catch some stares walking down the street blowing bubbles. So I passed out bubble gum for good luck to a bunch of elementary kids and instructed them to blow bubbles till the end of the Pac 10 tourney. I bought a big bubble maker and a jar of bubbles and waved them around with a group of first graders. They ran around to see how fast they could pop them. Even that bubble bath someone gave me for Christmas fizzled.

I went to the UPS store for bubble wrap. I always enjoy jumping up and down on that stuff and freaking out the cat. Oh, but wait. I'm not supposed to go around popping bubbles. The purpose is to keep the bubble. Gave some of the grandkids some Mr. Bubble, hoping that would help.

Wrote a reply to the Sisterhood that I would not be guilt-tripped, cajoled or threatened into voting for Clinton...I don't give a darn about her bubble. After all, does she care whether the Ducks go to the NCAA tourney? Does she even know who the Ducks are?

Well, age be darned....I'll chew the freakin' bubble gum myself.

And then it happened. The Bad Omen. Just as I was enjoying a grandmotherly moment giving the 6 month old a bath, he expressed more than words the chances of the Ducks making it. You guessed it: bubbles in the bath tub. Well, there's always next year. Maybe there is something to that hope thing.