It's an odd moment when you realize that the most exciting thing you did that week was pick a yellow squash from your garden. You gotta admit, that's a beautiful squash.
Cooking and eating said squash was equally thrilling. No, I'm not being sarcastic. I truly looked forward to it for days.
It's not that my life is boring. I do a lot, mostly work related, but at least they are fun jobs. I invent silly crafts and force kids to make them with me. Occasionally, I get the kids to be almost as excited about the craft as I am. Egg carton elephant - we were talking about family bonds and loyalty that day -
Last week, I made sheep coin banks out of tennis balls.
But then none of my kids showed up that evening, so I saved my sheep-making paraphernalia for a later date.
I stuff roasted green chilies into ziplock baggies. I get in silly fights with the cash register and leave little notes inside of it for my boss, explaining the discrepancies in numbers. I try to answer questions such as, "If I buy a bushel of chile, does the bushel come with it?" ... without asking the customer what language she's speaking.
I stare at computer screens that look like this:
The above article is about "Odd Thomas," the film that my dear friend Jessica is currently working on. I'm usually proud of the way the layout comes out. After 2 years, In-Design and I have reached an understanding. I understand that it does very strange things for no apparent reason, and that if I undo one of those things repeatedly for six months, it will eventually stop doing it.
A few weeks ago, I played with hot glass.
THAT was awesome. I'd love to be able to do things like that more often. I write articles, usually several days after they were due. Sometimes I interview people or read entire books to write these late articles, and I always learn something.
I practice rolling my r's in the shower, just in case I decide to start learning Italian again someday. I'm self-conscious about my retarded tongue.
I hang out with this guy a lot :)
This was taken at Los Golondrinas with my family, right next to a mill pond that smelled like dead frogs. It smelled even worse because I was hungry. Underneath the mill smelled wonderful - like old books, cold dirt, mildewy wood, and flour. I learned some cool things that day, but all I remember now are the smells. Lavender. Hay. Greasy wool. Bread. Horse. I had a migraine, and migraine brains do not hold on to facts as well as you might hope. I was also probably thinking more about being there with my boyfriend than about anything else. Yes, I am lame like that. I do remember the lady who was explaining the medicinal uses of a variety of herbs she had laid out on a table. Randy I were sniffing one of them when the lady said, in front of my dad and stepmom, "I notice you're enjoying that together. That's great! It's an aphrodisiac." Wow. Thank you, herb lady. Of course, I've forgotten the name of the plant now. Too bad...
So, obviously, I do not do nothing, but it feels that way sometimes.
Today, I rationed my time and chose to thoroughly water my lawn and garden instead of walking my dog. Two hours later, a monsoon hit. Figures. Then I chose playing my viola over working out. There are not enough hours in the day to do the things I wish to do... If I didn't have to sleep or earn money, I would study the Bible more, get in shape, read philosophy and literature and history, write tons of fiction, learn a new language, play several instruments, take pictures, hang out at the old folks home down the street, go on long hikes, train my dog so he's not so neurotic, fix my credit score, have a better garden, get over my fear of bowling, become a better swimmer, camp outdoors, keep my room clean, learn to drive standard, make pottery, go on day trips and picnics, bake breads, have more long, wonderful conversations in a bomb shelter, volunteer at food banks, go to plays and operas... and scrapbook every day of it.
Someday, maybe, I will make time for half of those things.