OK, I looked up the word, and there is no word
The word is frivolity
noun, plural fri·vol·i·ties for 2.
1. the quality or state of being frivolous: the frivolity of Mardi Gras.
2. a frivolous act or thing: It was a frivolity he had a hard time living down
1. not serious or sensible in content, attitude, or behaviour; silly: a frivolous remark
2. unworthy of serious or sensible treatment; unimportant: frivolous details
What I am trying to say is that I don't have much in my head at the moment but have two, quite silly and frivolous things to share.
This morning there were only 2 slices of bread left (after Nic had exited the kitchen after (in his words) "a feed"). I had been lying in - a wintry stormy morning in Cape Town with high winds and plenty thunder - and reading my book. Michael had delivered a cup of tea before he left and eventually I surfaced for my Saturday special - lightly toasted wholewheat toast with cottage cheese, banana and honey (sometimes pecans (but Bob was left Cape Town for greener pastures). I put the 2 slices in the toaster and to my horror arrived to find that the toaster was on high and the edges were scorched. I hate the smell of burnt toast more than the taste but, at times, my toast is more like warmed bread (with a hit of gold). Devastation, usually I would turf it in the bin or for the birds but I had already lovingly sliced the banana into long strips, the knife was out and the honey had been softened in a mug of boiling water. Too much was at stake here.
Then I remembered and herein comes your first bit of frivolous information. As the tears of frustration started smarting my eyes, I remembered what my mother always did with burnt toast when we were children (and bread was scarce). You move to the kitchen sink and rub the two slices together (like you are playing the symbols). It works like a charm. All the charcoal rubs off and you are left with perfect toast (maybe a tad colder than usual) and a dirty sink.
Then the second one could change my life forever. Reading in bed, cold hands and arms (I don't wear winter PJ's). I am on a big reading spurt at the moment - 2 books in one week, is quite a record for me. I try to pull the duvet up as high as I can, I warm one arm at a time but it takes quite a bit of concentration. We sleep in a well ventilated room - even in the depths of winter - but we like it that way, warm duvet and cool faces. I hate a hot pillow and even in winter turn my pillow over about 100 times a night. Michael deserves a medal for sleeping with me!! This morning after I got back into bed my fluffy gown was on the bed and this idea came to me as I picked up my book. Slip your arms through the sleeves with the gown back to front. The back of the gown serves as an extra blanket and you don't get too hot under the duvet.
If any of you already do it and never told me about it - SHAME on YOU. I feel so proud of myself and now have some idea of what Alexander Graham Bell felt like all those years ago.
So be it trivial, worthless or frivolous perhaps these 2 tips can change your day as well (maybe even your life).
I am writing this in the middle of a hectic thunderstorm. Hail is pelting in on the windows and I am seriously contemplating jumping back into my freshly made bed for the day with my back-to-front gown on BUT Kathy and I have some catching up to do. Lunch at Forres, Old Brown at her fire, Old Brown in a Coke bottle at the movies? The options are endless. Best I get myself into the shower.