Saturday, December 6, 2008

Quick-change artist.

Reading a friend's blog made me think about change, and how I approach it.

Sometimes, a choice is so obvious that thinking it through is just a nicety. When I was laid off in 2005, it seemed a perfect time to hit the books full-time and finish my degree. When it occurred to me, I immediately stopped feeling at loose ends; at that point, I couldn't wait for the layoff to commence. I used the remaining three months to arrange my affairs, get all the money together that I could and get ready to hit unemployment running.

Other times, a change seems too unthinkable or painful to even consider. About 13 months ago, Annie suggested we might want to think about a smaller house as we age. I dismissed her idea as preposterous, and a month later we were making an offer on this house. I was ready to move ahead.

In the "unthinkable" category, in June, 1994, I made the decision to get a job that would support me and my son (after eleven years out of the lab and the job market), forsake my evangelical religion, leave my husband, suffer my parents' and extended family's disowning, and lose (almost) every friend I had made in 33 years of living. A year and a half later, I had done it.

Compared to Annie, I'm quagmired. She seems not to suffer change's pangs, or not to notice them. I whine and thrash. I don't go easily. I see myself as anchored to the present, though, and I'm really not. I wanted to write this so I can see myself more accurately.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Every cat accounted for, ma'am.

A windstorm rode through last night, without a drop of rain. The only damage we can see is that the tarp roof of the cat enclosure blew off.

It's no big deal to fix, but the cats can't be allowed into the pen without a roof and armed guards in the towers.

Six of them join me here on the couch to help me write this. Tell how it whacked me on the head and I could have died! Tell how I almost blew away and I could have died! Tell how it blew the hairball back down my throat and I could have died!

Monday, August 4, 2008

On my walk.

Self-contained bliss.


Okay! So that's out of my system. Happy!

I'm about to walk to the post office. Walk! Such a concept, the walking to errands. I might walk! to the library, but maybe I'll save that for another day. These are the good things about village life that really do make me happy. Stay focused, Rodent.

I'll take my camera. That cheers me up.

Another very good thing: happy things on the walls. Arts are good.

Love, Loss and the Little House.

I'm staggering, lately, under the weight of what I've cast off. Ironic. I'm laughing wryly.

I want to be happy within myself, regardless of what I have or where I live. I was pretty smug about my self-contained bliss, until I realized how easy it was to be blissful in the stillness of the countryside, in the ease of my big house, in the utter bigness of the vista. What bullshit. Big talk for a little mind, Missy.

Of all things, I can't find room in my life for my plants. My plants meant a lot to me, and now I'm putting them on the curb. FREE: whatever I used to like a lot. Pure crap. Apparently, I don't have a Buddha self, or a Gandhi spirit. I am full of shit.

We have to install some new heating system for the simple pleasure of not having the house smell like piss and shit. Booyah!

The new half-acre yard? Needs a fucking lawn tractor. Because this move has been all about getting simple.

The old house? Still have it. Can't sell it. Still paying for it. Still mowing it. Still maintaining it. Simple! So simple! It's Fuck Me simple!

Monday, April 7, 2008

Remember?




You thought you were The Shit, winter! Now you can bite me! You'll never win again, NEVER!!!

Where I get all Georgia O'Keefe on your ass.

Look at me when I'm talking to you.

Sunday, April 6, 2008