Tuesday, February 22, 2011

10 years

 b. watterson

It seemed like a good idea at the time - 2

For the past several weeks I have been working around the house - painting, pulling up carpet to reveal very serviceable hardwood floors, moving furniture, going through stacks and stacks of books, dusting, slicing open the side of my hand with a utility knife (thank goodness for kind neighbors who have a first aid kit), etc...  It's been a lot of work and there is still a good bit of stuff to do, but I was sitting in the living room tonight basking in the warm glow of the honey tones coming from the newly bared floor. A plate was on my lap and on the plate was a turkey, bacon, lettuce, onion, provolone cheese sandwich, a modest pile of Cheez-its and a ramekin filled with the remains of the cherry Jell-O that got me through my weekend illness.   The dog, as usual, was parked right at my knee waiting patiently for some of the food to fall into her mouth. She has good reason for hope judging by past episodes which have found me standing up to do something and forgetting I have a lap full of food.  Everything was going along well and then I decided  it would be nice of me to give the dog a little bit of Jell-O.  It never entered my mind that a dog who has been observed swiping a sandwich off a plate and swallowing it whole would have a problem with a little blob of gelatin.  She took it quickly enough and then placed it daintily on the wood floor and started to lick at it.  I suggested somewhat heatedly that she should just pick it up, which she did.  She walked a few steps across the room and deposited a somewhat less molded glob of bright red cherry Jell-O on the floor.  She nudged it across the floor with her nose and took a couple more licks at it - just enough to cause it to liquefy.   Apparently some dogs (maybe all of  them) don't care for the texture of jello. Who knew? As I cleaned up the little red puddle I wondered if Mucinex is a mind-altering substance.  

Sunday, February 20, 2011

My suspect immune system

Another weekend gone by in a haze of fever, body aches, chills and dangerous trips up and down stairs.  What is going on?  I thought my immune system was supposed to help me fight off opportunistic infections without completely wrecking me.  At least it has the good grace to go off the rails when I actually can afford to be sick.  I am hoping for a healthier spring.  In the meantime, I am sitting in the wingback chair in my living room staring out the rain speckled windows at a gray February afternoon and being thankful that I was able to get myself out of bed today.  The chores abound and will have to wait until I have the energy to do more than bathe and dress myself. 

Monday, February 7, 2011

"Snow days" revisited



After my "Snow days" post of late last year, I neglected to shout from the rooftop "I got a snow day!!" when the most recent "Storm of the Century" last week prompted almost everything to shut down, including my office.  I was so delighted to have a free day that I did some work in an attempt to catch up.  Oh well, maybe the next snow day I will put to good use by sleeping in, eating marshmallows for breakfast, staying in my pajamas all day and dancing with the dog.


Sunday, February 6, 2011

Cabin fever

The rhythm of daily life is fairly consistent.  The mundane is what glues the world together during the infrequent highs and lows.  Mostly I am comfortable with the mundane - waking just before the alarm in the morning, listening to my dog stretch out and yawn at the top of the stairs, hearing the trash truck rumble down the street, turning on the kettle for a cup of coffee, opening the blinds and watching the world outside start to waken and move about. The routines of the morning - of the entire day - keep me on task, keep me moving toward the time when I can settle down after work and just have a few minutes to sit.  In difficult times, routines really save me.  Some things just have to get done no matter what's happening, no matter how crummy you feel.
This winter has been strange with regard to loneliness.  The routines keep me plugging away, but the "settle down" time at the end of the day has become increasingly lonely. The house, the phone and my social life are too quiet. I have decided to chalk it up to cabin fever, winter storms and not enough physical activity.  It's hard to take the dog for a walk when there are mountains of snow on all sides.  I'm all for taking up a challenge, but I don't want to be found in the spring thaw curled up around my dog in a muddy puddle. 
Solitude is a gift - the quiet a comfortable embrace. Loneliness is an unwelcome visitor.  It gives me too much time to get stuck in my head and begin to create things to fret about.  I need to get out of my head, out of my house and out of a routine that, while helpful, feels a little stagnant.
Can't wait for spring... and lilacs and bright yellow-green new leaves on the trees and yes, even spring cleaning. 


Around the Corner by Andrew Wyeth
                                                  

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

It seemed like a good idea at the time






Why don't people tell you things that really matter, really make a difference in life?  There are so many things that you just have to figure out on your own.  For instance, it's never a good idea to take a fiber supplement, have a big bowl of chili and begin really working to meet the daily recommended  intake of fruits and vegetables all on the same day.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but someone probably could have/should have counseled otherwise.