At the Races


The kids spent the night at my mom's last night so Heath and I went out with Will and Betsy. We met up for dinner at a new restaurant called "Torroco". The atmosphere was nice and the food (Italian) was good. The Sinatra playing in the background was enjoyable, but the more "authentic" selections were a bit on the annoying side. We met up at eight o'clock and the place was virtually deserted considering it was Saturday night. I can only guess that they are still working on building their clientele base. Whatever the case, I actually enjoyed the lack of other patrons.

After dinner, we decided to meet a couple of Will and Betsy's friends at the local racetrack. (Don't disown me mom.) I'd never actually watched a horse race live before and neither had Heath. Heath decided we should place bets on a horse. While he was trying to get the inside scoop from the man taking our bets, I chose the dark bay (oh, so handsome) horse in the blue silks. A natural choice as blue is my favorite color. I didn't even read his name. I told Heath to bet on him, but he decided to go with another horse and bought me my own ticket, instead. Telling the man behind the counter, "My wife says...". When they asked me if I wanted to place the bet for him to win, I said "Sure. Why not?" and the guy behind the counter looked at me like I was a little nuts. I guess I hadn't looked at the horse's odds when I made my choice. He was dead last in the odds. Everyone else in our group placed their bets. Will's friend, Pat, also placed a bet on my horse. Probably just because he was the longshot. To each his own.

I decided it would be more fun to watch the race from as close as possible being as it was my first one and all. We all headed outside and I found a place at the fence right beside the finish line. I told Heath I wanted to be close enough to feel the dirt in my face. The horses came to post (or whatever the technical term is) and everyone was in the gate. The bell rang and the gates flew open. My horse stumbled on the way out, but kept it together. He was in third when he came past us the first time. He held back a couple of lengths behind the leaders and I suspected he was just biding his time. Sure enough, as the came around the second to last turn, he closed the gap. As they came around the final turn, he made his move and took the lead. He just kept gaining ground and won by over three lengths at odds of thirty-eight to one.

Pat and I celebrated and Heath couldn't believe my luck. I say it was faith in my horse. Wayzata Bay is his name, by the way. I insisted on staying to watch him brought into the Winner's Circle. I had, for once, forgotten my camera, so the only pictures I could get of him were on my cell phone. Not good enough to share, but at least I have one. All the excitement made me shaky, but it was fun. We went to collect our winnings and I sweet talked the guy behind the counter into letting me keep my ticket after he marked it as paid. Heath tried to get me to place another bet, but as I don't feel elated very often, I declined. I wanted to end on a good note. I felt it couldn't get any better than that.

So, thank you, Wayzata Bay, for making my first race a memorable one. You've been trying to win the race for three years and you finally did it. Congratulations! Guess we both had a great night!

Trip Planning


Sarah and I have been trying to plan her trip out here. We looked for flights while we talked tonight. Can you believe that to fly from Pittsburgh to Des Moines anytime in the next two months is going to cost $440? At LEAST! Yeah. I don't think so. I decided it was worth checking flights into Omaha instead. Oh, my goodness, am I glad I did. $179. Are you kidding?! Why is it so much more to fly into Des Moines? Did it turn into some kind of major metropolis without my noticing? I realize it's the capitol city, but seriously. Have any of the people pricing these flights actually BEEN here? I might pay that much to get OUT of here, but certainly not to fly in. Idiots.

At least we'll definitely be able to get together now. I can hardly wait. Her kids will be at home and mine will be at my mom's for several days. We'll finally get some "girl" time. Now, I just need to think of some interesting places to go out. I'm so out of the loop when it comes to that stuff. What a loser, right? Haha. You try taking kids to a bar or club and see if you get in. That's what I thought. What's that you say? Date night? What's THAT?

In other news, I didn't go to my ten year high school reunion. I'm not sad about it either. If the people I went to high school with really gave a damn about what I was doing now they'd have kept in touch in the first place. I'm sure most of the night was spent bragging to each other about how far they've come since graduation and how great their lives are. I have nothing to prove to them. I didn't care then and I don't care now. Those were wretched years and I'm glad they're over. I actually have nightmares where I'm back in high school and they ruin my entire day when I wake up. No, I didn't get made fun of on a regular basis or anything. I just never fit in there. I always thought there was something more out there than who was breaking up with who. Although, I DO miss having access to a marimba on a regular basis.

I found our Netflix movies in a box yesterday. It's about time, too. We've been paying our monthly fee for the same three movies since before we moved. I didn't even watch them. I just stuck them in the mail. I'm hoping we get something good for the weekend. Like I should be sitting around watching movies when there's so much to be done still. Ugh. Priorities. Speaking of movies, someone out there still has one of my movies. Must be holding it for ransom. Hello, out there! I need to know your terms if I am to consider them. Keep in mind, I don't have a lot of money. We just bought a house, after all.

I'm going to take my leave by sharing some pics of the kids from the last couple of weeks.

Rabbits & the Cinema


Have you ever seen two rabbits fight? Yeah, me neither. That is, not until tonight. Right about dusk, there are usually two or three rabbits stalking around our backyard. They've been here at least as long as we have, so I figure they have about as much right to use it as we have. The kids really enjoy watching them and, on occasion, chasing them (although I try to discourage this) around.

This evening, there were two in the yard near the flowerbed. They squared off and then commenced with what I can only assume was a battle. It was one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen. One would dart right for the other and the other would jump straight up into the air a split second before impact, thus dodging contact. They would then circle each other and repeat the procedure. They went at this for a couple of minutes and then suddenly one started grooming its fur and the other (not two feet away) began grazing. It was like someone had flipped a switch in their tiny little brains. How bizarre. I'm still not sure if it was fighting or foreplay.

Have you ever watched a movie that started out well and took a weird turn somewhere far enough into it that you felt it would be a waste to turn it off? I watched one of those tonight. It was like watching the first half of one movie and the last half of a different one. I'll admit, I have some strange taste in movies, but every so often there's one that even I don't get. Maybe it's not that I didn't get this one, but that I didn't like the ending. I knew what was coming (like I always seem to in any movie) and I felt disappointed. It was depressing.

I've had a headache all evening, too. Ibuprofen, you're useless. It's probably because I hardly slept last night. Between the sunburn (yes, I've learned my lesson), the cats pouncing on me and eating my hair while kneading my scalp with their claws (Lola actually joined Charlie for this last night. They were quickly escorted out of my bedroom.), the bloody robins singing at four in the morning (WTH?! The sun's not even UP yet and I feed your sorry butts!), and the garbage truck. A little after dawn I managed to get in an hour or so of actual sleep and had a fantastic dream that I woke up all too soon from. *sigh*

Abby just told me Perrin is asleep on the floor upstairs. I'm such a great mom. I hope he's at least on the rug where it's soft. Guess that means I'd better get him into bed. Me, too. Before I fall asleep here and wake up with those embarassing keyboard imprints on my head.

Pondering Porn


Guys like to look at naked women. I get that. I agree that the female body is more appealing to look at. The soft skin and gentle curves are made all the more seductive by the lack of body hair that is usually abundant on men. What I don't get is why all of the women men really like to look at (in print or on screen) are the ones that are as far from the reality of your average women (i.e. their wives/girlfriends) as you can get short of being entirely plastic. I mean, honestly, how are we supposed to believe that you find us so attractive when the women you fantasize about look nothing like us?

Please, don't assume my tone here is one of bitterness and jealousy. While it does sting a bit that these voluptuous vixens (in all of their airbrushed, silicone glory) get a quicker "rise" out of you than we do, we know you likely haven't a chance in hell of actually meeting any of them, much less living out any of your fantasies. Sorry, but it's true, you know. As endearing as we may find the fact that you can burp the alphabet (it does entertain the kids, after all), it's not really a turn-on.

That's not to say that we're perfect, either. Oh, no. We are well aware of the fact that we're not. Not only is it constantly staring at us in the mirror, but every magazine in the check-out aisle (besides the Enquirer and the like) is emblazoned with images of large-breasted women with gorgeous hair and perfect smiles. If only we all had a team of professionals to make us look like that and a team of artists to airbrush our flaws. Did you know that ninety percent of women in this world have cellulite? That means that nine out of ten of the women in those dirty magazines have it. They don't let you see that part though, do they? Lucky for them, isn't it? Unfortunately for the rest of us, we get to bare our bodies just as they are and hope you're too blinded by the thought of sex to notice the flaws.

I wouldn't be surprised if that's why some women get married, whether they realize it or not. Ideally, they would never have to worry about anyone but their husband seeing them naked again. While that is definitely NOT why I got married, I can see the appeal there. I even get shy about Heath seeing me naked. I didn't used to be so shy about my body, but having kids has not left me unscathed. He HAS to deal with it. (Especially since it's his fault and all.) I got off lucky compared to a lot of moms, but I'm still self-conscious. Even the doctor would have to do some serious convincing to get me naked. Although, maybe with enough flattery... LOL.

I don't know why I'm going on about his. I know my husband isn't the only one out there who has "needs". I've sort of become accustomed to it, oddly enough. I just think it's kind of a shame that society, as a whole, can't appreciate "real" women over edited ones. I'm not asking to be worshiped or anything. Just remember that whatever flaws my body may have, my mind more than makes up for. We'll all get older, but not all of us will get smarter.

I'm Stupid



Maybe not so much that I'm stupid as I did something stupid. Allow me to explain. The weather was nearly perfect yesterday. Only about seventy-some degrees, very few clouds, and a nice breeze blowing. I (having received a boost of confidence from witnessing overweight, middle-aged women in bathing suits at the beach the day before [I mean, seriously, if THEY can wear one in public then surely I can wear one in my backyard!]) decided it would be a perfect day to get some sun. I put sunscreen on the kids and sent them to the sandbox and Heath went to work mowing the lawn. I made myself at home on the deck with the latest Cosmo (not the most enlightening reading, yet ideal for sun-bathing) and a bottle of tan-enhancer. Now, I used to do this sort of thing all the time back in my teens and early twenties, but there are parts of my body that have not seen the light of day in five years thanks to my having children. It would seem that, in those five years, I have forgotten everything I once knew about sun-bathing. First of all, the enhancing lotion was a bad, BAD idea. Secondly, choosing the time of day when the sun is at its most direct. Finally, neglecting to remember that just because you don't FEEL a sunburn yet, doesn't mean you don't already have one.

I hurt. I hurt and it's my own stupid fault. I've been wearing as little as possible and basting myself in aloe all day. The aloe is so cold and it feels great, but oh, how it hurts to rub it into my skin! I know, I'm whining, but I'm not asking for pity here. I know I have no one to blame but myself. I just reserve the right to complain that it feels like my skin is on fire, and NOT in a good way.

On the bright side, Heath got my computer back up and running this morning. Yay! I know I've said this before, but I've REALLY missed it. I'm going to warn you right now, that I've been going through picture posting withdrawal, so be prepared. Now that I can put new pictures onto the computer again I may get a little carried away. For now, I'm going to go baste myself again and hope Charlie doesn't like the taste of aloe.

What To Do?

I have the house all to myself tonight. No Heath. No kids. Just me. Well, me and the kittens. They're getting almost as bad as the kids about getting into things and making messes. I should have named them Mischief and Trouble.

What do I do with an evening all to myself? That's a good question... I don't actually know. That's sad, I know. I may just sit here and enjoy the silence. I suppose I could get all dolled up and go out, but without a designated driver I don't think I'll bother. I really need to make more friends. I finally have time to myself and here I am talking about spending it with other people. How idiotic. Perhaps, I'm not as reclusive as I thought.

I have to admit, I'm actually bored already. I could be dancing around my house naked if I wanted to and I'm bored.

There was something large-ish having battle in the tree in our backyard last night. I have no idea what it was, but I woke up to this mewling/squeaking/whining sound and then heard rustling in the tree and a branch cracking. By the time I was awake enough to grab my glasses and go to the window it was quiet again. This morning, there was a branch lying on the ground under the tree that was at least an inch and a half thick where it had been snapped off. I highly doubt quarreling squirrels did it, but I've never seen anything larger in the yard. What on earth was up there last night? It didn't sound like a cat and I'm fairly certain it wasn't a dog. Maybe, I'll stay up and wait for it tonight in case it comes back.

I'm off to enjoy my evening of freedom. I hope I find out about the next one ahead of time so I can actually make plans. Oh, and get friends.

Venting

***WARNING***
I'm going to spend a few minutes venting here, so if you don't feel like listening, feel free to skip to the last couple of paragraphs to save time.


I can't take this anymore. I can't not having my computer. I can't take not having a usable basement. I can't take the constant mess that persists no matter how much cleaning I do. I can't take the stupid rain. I can't take the price of gas. I can't take the million questions I'm always being asked (do I LOOK like I know EVERYTHING?!). I can't take the "I'm hungry" ALL DAY LONG. I can't take the guilt I get from my mother-in-law (whether she means to make me feel it or not) because we don't live there instead of here. I can't take the guilt I get from my mother (and I KNOW she means to make me feel it) for not going to church. I can't take being awakened numerous times every night. I can't take the whining (least of all my own). I can't take the fighting. I can't take the lack of funds (yeah, I know, I should go get a job, right?). I can't take that I'm never going to see the places I've dreamed of seeing all my life. I can't take that I'm so angry right now that I just want to smash something. Maybe several things. (In fact, I've already thrown a few. Nothing breakable, though.) I can't take that part of me wants to throw a tantrum like my kids get to do. I can't take that my best friend lives so far away we've only seen each other once. I can't take that there are so many people in the world that are worse off than I am and I'm having a bloody pity party for myself. I can't take that I WANT to help all these other misfortunates (yes, I know that's not a real word) but I feel like everything I do is too small to make any real difference. I can't take feeling small. I can't take that so many people take rational feelings for granted. I can't take that I sound so ungrateful about my life.

(Deep breath...)

I almost feel better now. Talk about venting. I wish I could say I don't know what came over me, but that would be a bold-faced lie. It's simply my being inept at handling things an average person should be able to breeze right through. I hate being in "the dark place". I really do need to learn some coping strategies or whatever psycho-babble term they have for them these days. Would things be easier if I were less of a thinker? I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin just to escape the thoughts racing in circles around the inside of my brain like a throng of roller derby girls. The worst part is, I can't think of any logical reason why I should be like this. Nobody has died. I haven't given birth, nor am I pregnant. Will someone, PLEASE, tell me what is wrong with me? Oh, never mind. I've been through all that with licensed professionals who have assured me that I'm normal. Although, I'm really beginning to wonder just how much they know about "normal".

Please, excuse my foul mood this evening. I suppose I need to stop allowing my emotions such freedom. I swear, I'm actually not a bad person. I'm not usually so self-absorbed and violent. In fact, I have to make a genuine effort to be loud even. I don't have a personality disorder either. Honest. I just haven't had much humor in my life this week and it's hard to write humorous things when you've nothing to base them on. I know how pessimistic I sound. Part of me says I should just quit writing, but I feel like writing now. Besides, if I listened to myself, wouldn't that be like I was letting voices in my head tell me what to do? I'm kidding, by the way. I don't actually hear voices. I'm not THAT far gone. I can jest about being crazy because I know I'm not actually. Truly crazy people don't admit to being crazy. They're far too busy actually BEING crazy.

You want to know what the highlight of my day was today? (It's dumb.) I watched a re-run of "Top Gear". It was the episode with James Blunt driving their reasonably-priced car. I'm quite taken with him in spite of the fact that I don't find it fair he's got looks, talent, AND a sense of humor I can relate to. I suppose my taste for celebrity crushes isn't quite along the same lines as the average American woman. That accent, though... It makes my head all fuzzy, but in a good way this time.

Alright. I've cleared some of the evil murkiness out. Time to go pick out one of the half a dozen new books I have and try to get rid of the rest of it.

Still


It's been three days and our basement carpet is STILL wet. We've been using three fans and yesterday, my dad bought a dehumidifier and hooked that up, as well. Our home warranty will cover the new sump pump, but the deductible on our home owner's insurance is nearly two thousand dollars. Needless to say, we don't have that kind of money right now. Looks like we may have to pay to replace the carpet on our own. We don't exactly have the money for THAT either. All I know, is that something has to be done about it soon. The whole house is starting to smell all damp and cave-like. Which would be great if we were bats, I guess.

I think of all of the things I miss about the basement, I miss my computer the most. I hate using the laptop. I can't put my pictures on it because there's really no room for them. None of my favorites are stored on here. The speakers suck, so Pandora is out of the question. Some of the keys don't work properly causing in the letters "a" and "q" to be omitted from words so I have to go back and correct them by pushing the keys more directly. I don't like the mouse either. I just miss my computer. It's like missing an old friend. I can't wait to have the familiar keys beneath my fingers once more.

On an altogether different subject, I think Tow-Truck Guy is stalking me. I took Perrin out with me when I ran errands on Saturday morning. We stopped at Wal-Mart, a couple of garage sales (where he made out like a bandit with the cookies for sale), and finally stopped at Dairy Queen to pick up Blizzards for everyone before heading home. As I pulled forward from the drive-thru, I stopped to lick the melting ice cream off the sides of the cups as the twelve year old girl with the nose piercing chose not to give me lids for any of them. While I was trying to prevent a chocolate disaster from ruining my center console, Perrin was apparently watching traffic. The next thing I knew, he was shrieking, "Awful truck, Mommy! Awful truck!" and sure enough, I looked up just in time to see the vile thing drive by. Again, I felt the disdain and anger that had festered all those months at Chapel Ridge. Why couldn't the guy move to Guam or someplace equally distant? Maybe the bottom of some nice volcano somewhere?

Shame on me. I should probably be doing my best to scare up some good karma instead of letting past irritants create bitterness in my life. Someone suggested meditation. Learning to breathe properly and relax. Might not be a bad idea if I can manage to do it before the kids get up and chaos ensues. Of course, that early in the morning I'm likely to fall asleep if I relax much. I'm utterly useless before ten in the morning. Sometimes, even later. Perhaps I'll try it tomorrow. At least, I will if my nose stops running long enough for me to breathe at all. I've always thought colds in the warm months to be the most idiotic things. If I'm lucky, I'll wake up healthy tomorrow.

The New Pool


Last night was fun. (If you know me well enough, you realize that if I start with a phrase like this and we didn't have a date last night, the night in question was actually nowhere near fun.) It started with the tornado siren across the street going off. Oddly enough, it's not loud at all and I didn't even know it was going off until my entire family started calling me to ask if we were in the basement. It was bedtime, so I just grabbed the kids' blankets, pillows, and stuffed dogs from their beds and herded everyone downstairs. Of course, there was stuff to take care of outside, too. I told the kids to stay in the basement and watch television while I went out into the pouring rain and lightning to stack up to patio chairs and bring in my favorite flower box. I also had to collect all of the toys in the sandbox and a few random things from around the yard. The weird thing is, I LIKED this part. It's always given me a strange sort of thrill to be out in the middle of the storm when the tornado sirens are going off. The rain streaming down my face feels cleansing and the thunder makes me brave. And, no, I've never even come close to being struck by lightning. Not that I know of...

After the sirens stopped, I figured we might as well all sleep downstairs anyway, just in case. I turned on an animated movie and Perrin quickly fell asleep. I started getting tired and went upstairs to take my meds. As I was standing at the kitchen window, the lightning flashed and I caught a glimpse of the backyard. After I picked my eyeballs out of the garbage disposal and popped them back into my head, I went upstairs to get a better view from our bedroom window. @$#^#&%#^%@, was all I could say. Well, that and $&#*%^&*@. As I've mentioned here before, large bodies of water freak me out. Especially when they're NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! Most of our backyard was underwater. It was almost up to the steps of our deck. Many of you have not seen our backyard, but trust me, that's CLOSE. I called Heath so I could have a mini panic attack on the phone and as I was in the basement on the phone with him I was watching the water out the window and didn't notice the water creeping ever closer to my feet. Then, I stepped in a cold puddle and said some more naughty words. (Quietly, mind you, as Abby was still awake. I told Heath what was happening and got off the phone to see if there was anything I could do. There wasn't really so I did what any smart girl would do. I called Daddy. At this point, there was standing water in the corner where the computer was and the wall to the north had wet carpet at least two feet from the wall. By the time my dad got there, the carpet around the entire edge of the basement was wet and the utility closet had three or four inches of standing water in it.

My dad uncovered the sump pump from under the built in desk that was screwed to the top of the area that housed it (I mean, what the ****? Who makes something so necessary so inaccessible?) and tried to get it working. His efforts were futile. He called on a friend of his who is now my hero. He brought over and installed a brand new sump pump in the middle of the night. He didn't even mention until he got there that his birthday had been the day before and he'd just gotten in from his celebrating when my dad called. He said something about how much he'd been drinking and apologized if he wasn't quite himself so I offered him another drink. After a lot of frustration and a good bit of swearing, he and my dad managed to get the old rusted sump pump out of the hole where it had been SEALED IN with foam insulation (Anyone care to venture a guess as to WHY?) and get the new one in and working.

It was after three in the morning by the time Denny and my dad got things stabilized and headed home. I called Heath again to fill him in and then tried to get some sleep in before the kids got up. Of course, I couldn't shut the kittens in the basement so they were eating my hair at the crack of dawn. Heath and my dad used their shop vacs to suck no fewer than 168 gallons of water out of the carpet. It's still pretty wet, but at least it isn't making puddles around our feet when we walk on it anymore. Denny also let us borrow a couple of big fans to help dry things up. Like I said, he's my new hero.

Since I didn't get much sleep, my nose is all drippy today like I have allergies or something. Just enough to be irritating. I must still be attractive though. Heath propositioned me before he went to bed, as did some random poster on Craigslist. Seriously? What makes you think that your simple reply of "Let's ****" is going to get a response from me? Can't I at least get dessert first? At least tell me you think I'm hot or that I sound intelligent. That fact that I use better grammar than 90% of Craigslist posters should have given you a clue that, just maybe, there's a brain in my head and it might take a bit of effort to get to the point where I even ALLOW you to ask me to ****. I appreciate your being so straightforward, though. At least there's no doubt what you were saying.

So, there's my fun-filled night/day. Think of me as you enjoy your nice, DRY basement.

Pot-stirring


I haven't written in a few days, but don't think that means I wasn't here. Here, as in, online. I've found a new passion. I've become a pot-stirrer on Craigslist's Rants & Raves. I mean, I've always enjoyed doing things to irritate people, but being able to do it anonymously from my own home? What better way to pass the time! I don't do it constantly (some of it is worthless drivel that's too far beneath me), but every so often there's something I just HAVE to say. Mostly because I know it will annoy someone else. And they make it so EASY. Ninety percent of the poor souls can't spell and are clueless when it comes to punctuation and capitalization. Rude words are their only retort. It's sad really. How did they graduate high school? Oh, wait... But, really, THAT many of them?! That's got to be breaking some kind of record. And here I thought Iowa had great schools.

Aside from my childish and slightly devious new pastime, I've also managed to leave the house not once, but TWICE, so far this week. Please, hold your applause. No, really. Stop. Our friend, Nicci, had her babies this Sunday so I went to visit her (and the babies) on Tuesday. (She and Joel were once our neighbors) The boys were early (34 weeks gestation), but they're both doing fantastic. Dylan Dean and Drew Alan are the newest members of their family and they're adorable. (Almost makes me want another one. I said ALMOST.) They're going to have quite a time with three big sisters. I couldn't be happier for Nicci and Joel. They're great parents and I know that if anyone can make a big family work, they can.

I bought the kids a wading pool. I decided there's no way I'm going to be taking them over to the aquatic center every day. I'd like to say this will cut down on their whining (Abby's anyway) to go to the center, but I know it won't. It won't do them any good to whine, though. They now have a pool and a sprinkler and if they really keep on, I've got the hose. I can water my flowers and my children at the same time. Throw in some soap (for the children, not the flowers) and it's bath time, as well. Hooray for multi-tasking.

I've got to stop writing. Charlie is licking my neck and working his way down. I've got to stop him before this gets really weird. Why are all the males in this house so obsessed with my breasts? I think I've even caught the fish ogling them once or twice. Okay, now he's licking the arm of the chair. Nope. Now he's eating my hair. Ugh. They never cease their pawing! I must taste really good, is all I have to say. Creepy cats. I love them, but they're as nutty as everyone else in this house. (Oh, yay! He's gone off some...nevermind.) I feed them all and give them all things to drink. I even pet/play with them. Why does every living thing in this house always want to be in my space? I'm not THAT interesting, surely. Right, he's not going to stop licking me. Now it's my arm and I can hardly see the keyboard. I've tossed him to the floor a dozen times now and he won't take the hint. Guess that means I've got to stop writing. Grrrr. Why do they all get to dictate what I get to do and when? Is it possible to have a reverse dictatorship? I mean, when everyone else gets to tell one person what to do all the time? That's what it's like here. I adore my family, but for crying out loud, let me pee by myself once in awhile!

One that note, I'm going. (To get off the computer, that is. Not to pee.)

Not Thinking

Have you ever tried so hard to NOT think about something that it was nearly all you could think about?

I planted most of the flowers I had left from my stash on the front porch. I've been fighting the weeds to uncover enough ground to plant them in the back flowerbed. I finally gave up on trying to eliminate them altogether and settled for getting rid of the visible ones. I don't know WHAT kind of weed it is that's been growing back there, but its root system is massive. I'm almost afraid to go out there in the dark because it might grab me and pull me under for what I've done to the top of it. I'd like to see it try.

We also have more wildlife in our backyard. Another mama duck with seven brand new ducklings showed up yesterday. The first Mama Duck is down to just four ducklings, but they're getting big so fast. They're already getting feathers in. They've gotten pretty used to me now and usually come running when they see me. I'm not dull enough to think it's me they're coming to see, though. I know it's only because I feed them. They're fun to watch either way. Yesterday, while I was sitting on the bank watching them, a squirrel came bounding across the lawn and up the tree behind me. He sneaked down when he thought I wasn't paying attention and tried to creep up on me. I let him get a couple of feet away before I looked back at him and let him know he wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was.

I know. It's boring reading about the animals in my yard. What can I say? My life isn't exactly the stuff they write books about. At least, not the kind that get published. Of course, these days, anybody can get anything published if they have the money. I used to think that I'd love to be able to read every book ever written. Not a very logical dream, but aren't those the best kind? I doubt I'll ever realize that dream, but perhaps I'll have my own library someday. With high ceilings and walls lined with bookshelves that reach them. A nice dark, warm feel to it with soft couches and inconspicuous lighting. Are there even houses with libraries in them anywhere near here? Probably not. I'd like to see one, though. Even knowing that I could never afford it. I'd just like to sit in a room like that for awhile. No, public libraries are NOT the same thing. The old downtown library came close, but now they've moved it out of it's mysteriously beautiful old building and into some new modern one. The old building gave me goosebumps. I suppose I should give the new one a chance, but I know I'll be disappointed.

Wow. I talk about wildlife and then about libraries. I'd better stop before someone slaps an advisory label on this blog. I apologize. My not thinking about something makes my writing all muddled. I'll try to do something daring (or at least leave the house) tomorrow so I have more interesting things to write about. I'm going to continue not thinking in bed for now.