Long Time No Blog

It has been over a year since my last blog.  Guess there wasn't much to talk about . . . and still nothing to talk about.  Sad, huh?  Welcome to my exciting life.  It's not so bad, really.  I love my husband of mumbledy-nine years.  I have a job I love, working for a guy I've enjoyed working with since 1984 (yeah, almost everyone I know wasn't even born then).  I enjoy helping my Mom, even though I know I could never pay her back for all she has done for me.  My furbabies are all getting old . . . lost Rosie four months ago.  Buddy just turned 15.  Tootie will be 19 if she lives another three months, but I have doubts about that happening.  

I love my Church.  I love singing the praise songs.  I love going to The In-Betweens Bible Class.  The name is because we are between retirement and the grave . . . LOL!  Seriously, many of the members are beyond retirement, but some are my age and even younger.  I'm not far from retirement myself.  

My house is a wreck.  Every weekend I think I should do something.  Every weekend I can't decide what to do, and decide that it has lasted this long, it can wait another week.  I think about just emptying the house of anything that is not necessary.  It's amazing how much junk can be accumulated in 40 years.  Not all of it is mine.  After the deaths of my Mother-in-law, my Grandmother and my Dad, I acquired boxes of stuff.  At the time it seemed important, but now I'm weighed down with a bunch of stuff I would never have bought but would feel bad about giving it up.  The only things I have from those sources that I really like are:

My Grandmother's treadle sewing machine she sewed my clothes on.
A painting my Dad gave me for Christmas one year.  It is in my living room hanging over his Mother's sewing machine.  A photo of my Mother-In-Law's mother that is in a really interesting frame, hanging in my hallway.  All the other boxes of stuff can go.

Well, it is time to feed Buddy and do things to get ready for work tomorrow.  Time to do stuff.  

I would like to get a couple of parakeets to listen to them tweet and maybe talk.  Or . . . I would like to get an aquarium with a couple schools of small colorful fish to watch.  But, those things need attention and need to be cleaned, and need stuff.  I have too much stuff, not enough time.  

Gotta go do stuff.

Dear Diary

I had a diary for a while, when everyone else was keeping diaries, when I was around 12-ish.  It was the thing to do then.  It was customary to begin a new page with the date and the words "Dear Diary"; then you were supposed to write all your thoughts, hopes, dreams, troubles on the page.  The trouble was, I either didn't have a life or didn't have an imagination because I couldn't think of anything interesting to write.  From what I had heard, girls had all kinds of secrets in their diaries.  There were little keys to open a lock on the diary, and it was customary to keep the diary hidden under things in your sock drawer.  The worst thing that could happen would be for someone, usually a little brother, to sneak a peek at your diary.  I wonder if girls still keep diaries?  If they do, they are probably on a computer now, better guarded by a password than by a little tiny key.

 

"One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp

I've been reading Ann Voskamp's book "One Thousand Gifts". It was aggravating to read because writes like Yoda, she does, for a paragraph or so and then changes to regular writing for a while.  I put it down at page 27, disgusted because she said "snow coruscates in the sun". Had to look up "coruscates".  Found out it means "twinkle or sparkle or glitter". If you are writing prose, you say anything but coruscates! I figured, it's difficult to read, so it must be prose.  Anyway, unless it is a geology paper, I can't imagine a reason to use "coruscates" instead of one of the other words.  She used the word "thrum" several times too many.  Anyone who comes up with "coruscates" instead of twinkle or sparkle should be able to come up with something other than "thrum". 

After a couple of weeks, I gave it another try, and it was worth it.  I have learned so much, and want to do the soul exercises myself.  It takes a while for her to make her point, so be patient while reading.  Once she gets to the main idea, the book moves along pretty well.  She makes some startlingly profound observations, ideas I never would have thought of on my own.  It's worth the work it takes to read. 

Silliness

I like being silly sometimes.  Today a woman posted on Facebook, asking the question "If you had $5M in the bank and no bills to pay, what would you do?"  I answered:

I'd buy gold as a hedge against when the dollar is worthless. Then I'd buy a little farm with a little farm house and get off the grid. Then I'd get 20-30 cats and save those little twist ties that come on bread. :-)

I wanted to give a silly answer and it just came to me as I typed - effortlessly!  Does that mean I have a silly imagination, or does it mean there is a crazy survivalist cat lady who hoards twist-ties hidden in there somewhere?  :|   

Spring Cleaning

Spring cleaning . . . gotta do it.  There is going to be a church-wide garage sale in only five weeks *yikes!* so it is time to get rid of truck-loads of stuff I have accumulated over the last mumbledy-nine years.  It's difficult to get rid of things, though.  I was going to donate an old wash stand (it has a marble top, a tile backsplash and cabinet below).  I guess people used to put a bowl and pitcher on them and wash, who knows, anyway, it's old.  Wesley said, "You can't give that away, it's the first antique we bought as a couple, Woo used to sleep in it!"  

Woo was our second kitty, a Chocolate Point Siamese.  He was about a year younger than our first kitty, a Seal Point Siamese.  I named the Chocolate Point Willie Wonka, and we called him Willie.  Then his name morphed into Willie-Poo, then Poodly-Woo, then just plain Woo.  He was Woo for most of his life.  He would open the cabinet door underneath the wash stand and get in it and sleep.  So, as a result, I'm stuck with the wash stand for the rest of my life because Wesley is sentimental about things like that.  Guess what the wash stand is doing now?  It's in a room I almost never use with a bunch of cra . . . uh, collectibles on it.  The "collectibles" are probably special, too.

I asked Wesley if I could give away our dining table and chairs.  He said, "What would we eat on?"  I said, "The same thing we are eating right now", which is TV trays in the living room.  I can't remember the last time we ate at that table.  Yeah, we don't entertain.  Or would that be - no, we don't entertain?  I figure people know what they want to do for fun, so they can entertain themselves in their own houses.

Seriously, it is difficult to get rid of things that were once considered special. I'll pick up something, think "I haven't even looked at this doo-dad in who knows how long.  It's time for it to go!"  Then I'll think, "Well, it is kinda cute, and how much room does it take up, anyway."  Then I'll think back to the Antiques Roadshows I've watched and wonder if the doo-dad might be worth about a gazillion dollars.  I wonder if I should check it on Ebay.  I decide it's too much work to mess with and too bothersome to think about, so the doo-dad goes back where it was.  

But still, I'm optimistic because the de-cluttering articles and books I've read, which are in a stack on my hearth, assure me that I'll never miss those things once they are gone. 

I wish you could see me now - I wish I could show you how - I'm not who I was

Watched James Taylor, Carole King, Jackson Browne, and a bunch of others who were popular in the late '60s and beyond on PBS tonight.  It was a great show.  I knew the words to the songs, could remember where I was, what I was doing and how I felt about things and life in general when that song was popular.  We were all sick of Viet Nam, tired of worrying about the draft, trying to decide who we were going to be when we (finally) grew up.  Women wanted to be something other than secretaries, school teachers or nurses, and they wanted to be paid for their work.  We (as a generation) had long hair, talked about peace and love, but we were angry. 

The program was made up of recorded images and sounds from back then as well as current interviews with the singers/song writers.  The images and sounds were so familiar, like yesterday.  Then they would interview the people as they are today.  The music was the same, but the people were old.  But, it was obvious they didn't think of themselves as being old.  I sometimes wonder where the years went.  In some ways it seems like just yesterday, but in other ways it seems like several lifetimes ago.  Maybe that's because there have been several versions of me.  I'm finally happy with the person I am today.  Does that count as being grown up? 

So . . . change already!

One facebook friend posted this today:

The 3 C's of life:  choices, chances and changes - You must make a choice to take a chance or your life will never change.

Then another facebook friend posted about C25K, which stands for "From the couch to running a 5K" in nine weeks.  It works like this:

You start by alternating between walking and running until you build strength. For example, the first week you run for 60 seconds then walk for 90 seconds and repeat that for 20 minutes.

The second week you increase to 90 seconds running and 2 minutes walking, and so on, until at week 9 you are able to run for 30 minutes straight, roughly 5K.

The schedule is 3 times a week for 30-40 minutes per workout.

So, if I make a choice to do this C25K and take the chance that I could hurt myself doing it, I might succeed and have the butt and thighs I had 30 years ago!  Sounds good to me.  Where do I sign?