It's Tuesday, and I'm enjoying a Black Russian in the peace and quiet of my post- work house. I think I'm throwing myself this teensy Tuesday party to partially make up for a weekend that wasn't much fun. Its an invasion of privacy to write about it, darnitall, so I can't go into detail for you, my virtual friend. I know you told me that I haven't posted anything since May 27th, but I simply cannot absorb that as fact! If that's true, there's been a time warp, and I'm missing roughly three weeks. And, no. It's not the Black Russians. They are good and kind and don't come around often enough to be a nuisance.
I've actually had a lot of deep thoughts in the space of a lost month.
But strangely enough, I can't find fourteen seconds of uninterrupted time to spell any of it out or explore it, so they'll rumble around in my head a bit or a lot longer. Meanwhile, I've decided to feature some utterly useless and random thoughts. It seems I'm capable of doing that while spinning plates.
Giant Tiger, my guilty pleasure. Rye bread for $1.67? yes, please! Flip flops for $6 and summer tops in fun colors for $8? Sign me up. If you have to shop retail (which is recommended for grocery items...... yard sales don't often feature ground beef, yogurt, or milk. And when they do....... hmmmmm.) Giant Tiger is kind of a retail yard sale. You never know what you might find, and you'll generally walk away happy because you found something that no one who lives a normal life will. Normal is highly overrated. (except when it comes to sanity. I'd take normal in that category, but who's picking? not me, apparently.)
Bathroom scales are evil. This borders on "deep thoughts", but I don't have time to really go into it so it'll be random. I woke up one morning and noticed that a portion of my middle aged belly seemed to be missing and I had a wicked little thought: "Hey! I've lost Weight!" (evil thought #97865. it shouldn't matter. it doesn't define my identity, my value, my day.) Evil thoughts lead to evil actions = stepping on the scale. 'Nuf said. Seems gravity had pulled some of my belly down into my backside to make room for some up and coming fatty bits in the higher ups and lower downs. Oh well, there's always Giant Tiger. And mu muuuuuuuus.
Soccer is a lot like laundry. It takes a lot of effort to get the item in question from one side over to the other side, and just when you think you've done it, it lands up over at the original side and it appears that you've accomplished nothing. So you exert a collossal amount of energy to kick it over to the side you want it on. But it never lasts for longer than a second or two, although you remain in perpetual sweaty motion.
Perennial gardens and prairie canals make me very happy. In these spaces, I can feel peace washing over me, which is saying something.
There's nothing like the sound of wind in tall grass and songs of red winged blackbirds in the reeds. This is where I went for church on Sunday morning. I loved the music.
These purple flowers grew in the side yard of the house we lived in before this house. My friend laughed at me and told me that they were weeds. I always stuck up for them, and have them at my new (old) house too. But then again, I'm that girl who suspects that God made dandelions so that we couldn't tame beauty- it just springs up any old place, every year.
Lately I've been worried about how much of my life I've lost due to worrying. This is worrisome.
I currently have 201 pins on my "crazy cat lady" board on pinterest.
Nobody is entirely as they appear. This is true for loud, obnoxious people (who are not entirely loud or obnoxious, but wear it because it works). It is true for tall, slender, passionate, young activist types who are all those things but it doesn't excempt them from anxiety and disorder. That family with the mom and dad who love their kids unconditionally and are well respected for their wisdom and integrety? Their kids didn't get a golden ticket either, and suffer with all manner of shit-osis, even though they're the lucky ones with the decent family. I really wish it was true that love is enough. Love doesn't make bad things go away at all. I still believe in love, but not in a very simplistic way.
In two weeks I'll be on holidays. What am I really pleased about? That I don't feel at all burnt out. I'm not counting days or sleeps or hairs on my head. Its been a super pleasant year here in kid land, and there's kids heading off for kindergarten and grade one in the fall that I'm not at all pleased about seeing go. Having said that, I do look forward to having time for some other things, like sewing for two fairs I'm participating in this summer!
On my "not happy enough" weekend I gave myself a gift: a drive to nowhere. I found some marvellous prairie scenes and actually, throughly felt that I was "getting away from it all".
We had a mailbox like this. I remember walking to it in sunshine and snowstorms and marvelling that a little box could hold or deliver our letters.
I've been doing some exploring of the Bridges of Mennonite County.
It's pretty sexy.
How am I doing, Janice? I bet you feel a lot better now, having read this tale of my endlessly fascinating life. As a sort of benediction, I'm going to tell you my personal truth: a confession.
In paragraph two or so, I shared how I enjoy finding deals at Giant Tiger. It's true. I really do. It has now been a day since my GT indulgence. I've worn my six dollar flip flops all day and found them to be extremely comfortable. I've toasted and served rye bread. I've peeled bananas.
Not being terribly inspired to cook supper today, I happened to remember that I'd bought a lovely set of breasts that once belonged to a chicken. They were in my cart along with the sandals, the bananas, and the bread. I'd just stir fry that up with some veggies, cook some rice and call it a meal!
So I took out the chicken,
and it smelled like poop.
rotten, raunchy poop. With a side of kak.
So, by my math, my comfy sandals actually cost $16.00.
Still a good deal when you factor in how cushiony they are.
Or if you decided that you'd actually bought them in a for real shoe store at the mall, and you never wanted chicken anyway.
See you in less than a month. I promise.
p.s. Write back!