Writing about happiness is exquisitely boring.
I blog in my head all the time, thinking about how I would write an experience to best communicate it to my readers. Lately I’ve started a few blog entries and haven’t had time to finish them (or to be honest, haven’t had the motivation.) They’re mostly philosophical, which, if you know me, is not surprising.
What is surprising is having the time and energy to think this way again. I used to do it all the time in college – making connections, drawing parallels, parsing text, deconstructing prose, you know the drill. The last couple of years, though, I’ve been in crisis mode. I’ve shuttled around between emergencies, be they physical, emotional, or mental, my own or someone else’s. That kind of firefighting tends to suck up any additional energy you might have bouncing around – just trying to keep your head below the smoke, for whatever reason. (It’s yet another reason why I don’t think politicians or military should be setting policy – they don’t often have the time, perspective, energy or patience for long-term compassionate planning. Some might, but for the most part they spend their time trying to get re-elected or trying not to get themselves or the troops under them blown up.)
So I’m pleased to report that things are boring enough at the Ponderosa to allow me some random thoughts and musings, none of which are critical enough for an immediate public service announcement. An overview of the weekend will have to suffice.
Friday afternoon, I took Duckie to the grocery store then stopped by my favorite local apple shop on the way home. I had never visited them so late in the season. Usually I’m one of the first in for the new honey crisp hybrid (early crops, comparatively speaking), but this year I decided to make an extra stop for a different variety. The heady aroma of ripe apples met me as I came in the store. Duckie wandered madly through the aisles, picking up a Rome to munch on, which they ended up giving us because it was covered with drool, and because I was already buying a half-bushel of Staymans.
I also got an odd contraption that I’ve had my eye on for several years. It’s an apple peeler, corer and slicer all in one. No electronics or electricity needed. Just a cool little gadget that people have been using for years and years. Whoever invented it deserves all the royalties he or she can get – this thing is fantastic, once you figure out how to set it up.
So Friday was Duckie’s “apple” evening – or “appie” as she calls them.
I put her to bed at a reasonable hour after fighting one tantrum after another. I can’t even remember now what they were about, but by the time she finally went to bed, it was pretty clear to me it was time to up my dosage of Lamictal. I added a measly 25 mg that night, which has helped immensely. I do have a concern about when this will level out – but not an enormous one, at this point.
I stayed up for a while folding laundry and watching what I could of Lost in Translation. Still missed the last half-hour – bed called. I will say I thought there was a little too much of Scarlett Johansson half-dressed staring out windows, but I suppose if you’re a fan of hers you can’t get enough of it. Bill Murray was brilliant.
The next morning I called Brian at 7. “You didn’t think I’d be awake, did you?” he said.
“Er… frankly, no. That’s why I called – a friendly reminder, that’s all. Where are you?”
“In line at Bojangles getting you a biscuit.”
Sweet, sweet man. He was home a few minutes later, in time to take over Duckie care so I could Go Shopping.
Yes, I admit it – I do sometimes feel the need to update my pathetic wardrobe with less frumpy styles from retail outlets instead of from local second-hand stores. I am ashamed – but I still do it on occasion. Saturday was one such time. RB, her mother and I drove to the Old Navy mall in Greenville, and I am happy to say that while I tried on many items, I walked away with less than half of them. I am somewhat picky when it comes to disposition of cash. I also laid some green down for a little birthday gift for one fo the very cool Libra women I know, a new pair of shoes and winter coat for Duckie, and a couple of pairs of jeans and a T-shirt for Brian. (The dungarees look especially good on him.)
Still fighting congestion from last week’s cold, I came home to find Brian and Duckie asleep on the couch – the faces of love, calm and quiet. You can probably guess that it didn’t last long.
When Duckie woke up, I started playing with my new peeler toy. After some muffled profanity trying to set it up, I read the directions and figured it out. I peeled six apples before realizing that I hadn’t decided what to do with them. So I made a pie. (Duckie can now say “apple pie,” although she has not tried mine yet.) I was pleased with the results, but the peeler cuts thinner slices than I do by hand, so the apples turned out a little mushy. Will adjust the baking time accordingly for the next pie. (The pie craze is on, folks - SB Gypsy made herself a jumble pie this weekend, which sounds fantastic – it’s sounds like a mix of whatever pie fixins you’ve got in the house – apples, frozen raspberries, walnuts, etc. Will have to try it once I run out of apples – sometime in the next decade, that is.)
Brian came home in time for dinner (salad, corn bread and homemade chili), Duckie refused to take a bath and went to bed late, and we tried to stay up to watch 2 Days in the Valley, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Back to bed, and a second night of more or less uninterrupted sleep. What an amazing blessing.
Shopping again on Sunday – to large home improvement warehouse-type store first, where we found an upgrade for our shower head (oh, the difference it makes…) and took turns playing tag with Duckie up and down the aisles. She pitched a fit when it came time to leave. Same thing at the grocery store.
We got home, ate lunch (Brian plumbed the bathroom while Duckie and I were eating) then dropped Duckie off at a friend's house a mile or two away. She goes to school with D-boy, and they get along very well. D-boy’s grandmother deals very well with both of them. She even got Duckie to lay down for a quick nap in the afternoon, which is more than I can do half the time.
Brian and I rode in his new-to-him 1965 cherry-red restored Jeep. I was holding on for dear life for a large part of the trip, but he loves the damn thing, so I suppose it could be worse. And it is awfully cute.
Passing by a newspaper stand, I saw the headlines about the quake in Pakistan and India. Brian pulled me away before I could get too overwhelmed by the unimaginable destruction. (I will not be surprised when a holier-than-thou-type pundit starts spewing crap like, “Well, they’re heathen terr’ists anyway, so it’s God’s will that they pay the price for their ungodly, unAmurkin ways.” You know it’s only a matter of time before Pat Robertson or one of his fans weighs in.)
We got to see Serenity in a brand-new theater here in town – fantastic movie, saddening at times if you’ve gotten attached to some of the characters. Not a lot of plot twists that you couldn’t see coming – lots of “Oh, shit!” moments, but not many “Holy shit!” moments, if you know what I mean. We both loved it, though, despite the …
Naw, I won’t go into spoilers. Just go see it, if you haven’t already.
Picked up Duckie afterwards, to find that she had been a perfect angel for Patty. So I wasn’t surprised when she had a huge meltdown at home. She hadn’t eaten much that day (too busy playing) and she has a tendency to behave very well for others, then freak out once she comes home to mama. (This is not at all unusual for small children, from what I hear.)
I sat down on the floor and waited for her to come to me. After ten minutes on my lap, hiccuping and sobbing intermittently, she finally calmed down enough to eat a snack. We had dinner, put her to bed early. Got to bed around 9:30 myself, read a little more of Diana Gabaldon’s Dragonfly in Amber (rereading the series in preparation for Breath of Snow and Ashes, which has already been released.) I’ve put 1984 aside temporarily – it was really freaking me out.
Managed to wade up out of strange dreams to turn off the alarm clock at 5, as planned. Pulled the covers back and saw Duckie, bare-assed on the bed, having discarded her very wet diaper sometime during the night. (Potty training proceeds apace, no matter how unprepared I am for it.) We were lucky – no messes – this time, at least. She didn’t stir much while I put a fresh one on, and didn’t wake up for another hour, giving me time to make coffee, boil eggs, fold laundry – you know, all that crap you have to keep up with that’s easier to do in a quiet house.
See what I mean? Utterly boring. And lovely. Wouldn’t trade it for anything.