Friday Night Lights

In my case there are no lights. Not literally. However I'm home and it's Friday night and I can barely keep my eyes open. I have so many things I want to do but can't seem to do anything. Party Pooper!

I Love it! My Life is a "Clown Show!"

I read this online article (editorial?) yesterday.  I printed it out because I loved it so but I'm looking at it now and no where on it does it give the name of who wrote it.  I don't want to plagarize so I'll tell you my favorite part.  Anyway, it was about our crazy lives as mothers and wives, etc.  She (I guess the writer or robot or whoever the heck wrote it) was wondering what others felt when they thought they were failing.  She said she had one friend who said "This is a f***ing clown show!".  She asked her friend what it meant and they said they weren't really sure but she said that from her own experience it was "...loud, stuff spilling on the floor, and you can't all fit into the car...".  I love that ! 

So, as part of my very own 'clown show' i fell this morning - onto both knees - as I tripped over a pile of 'stuff' on the floor.  I had the dog in one arm (on myway to taking him outside) and I decided to lean across the bed and raise the blinds a bit for the cats and my feet got all which-a-way and boom!  It brought back the feeling of being ten again - falling off of a bike - and having scraped knees.  I can't remember the last time my knees hurt like this.  Well - wait - it could have been 1974.   But that's another story.

And on a tiny knitting note, I have to include a photo of my dear knitting friend Daun, channeling Princess Leia.  I think that's the lovely Blue Sky Alpaca being used there.  We always make our own fun.

Now I Get It!

I sat in Starbucks yesterday - thinking that I'd only be there long enough to look over the Sunday paper (so I didn't bring any knitting at all!) - and ended up staying there an hour just sort of spacing out.  I'm sitting there and this woman with hair hanging in her face, all tangled, and shuffling as she walked, comes in and kind of stands there looking lost.  I thought - oh poor thing, she's one of the homeless that comes in for a cup of coffee.  Then I see her shuffle over to someone's computer.  This someone had gotten in line for a cup of coffee.  Well, the shuffling, tangled hair woman actually sits down at the computer.  I was a little alarmed thinking - oh my gosh, should I say anything? But then suddenly she gets up again and walks over to the woman in line and talks and the woman in lines comes back and sits in another chair while the shuffling, tangled hair woman sits back down at the computer.  I mean I guess they're two friends.  I was ashamed of myself  for being alarmed but at the same time I couldn't figure it out. 

Oh, I digress.  On to what I "now get".  The chair I was sitting in at Starbucks was one of those big comfy soft chairs.  I now realize why people in the South (do they do it in the North?) have sofas on their front porch!  Sofas, soft chairs, etc. are soooo much more comfortable than sitting in a rocking chair.  No, I'm not going to put a sofa on my front porch. My neighbors would kill me and we've already made big enough fools of ourselves in front of them (many other stories - maybe another time).  I just couldn't help thinking how much nicer it would be on the front porch to have something to really hunker down in and even fall asleep if mood hit me. 

Being a Grown Up is Exhausting

You think that once the kids are past 12 that they will be so much more self sufficient.  I totally forgot that I didn't begin to feel like an adult until about 5 years ago so how the heck do I expect a 19 and 24 year old to act like adults?!  It's a little bit sad because the 24 year old sometimes acts more mature than I do.  I hate that she's been pushed (by circumstances - not by me) into maturing so fast.  Of course that doesn't mean that she knows how to keep a bedroom clean.  Of course I'm glad I'm no longer a teenager but I have to say that I sometimes miss being in my yellow bedroom with my yellow formica topped desk (that my Mom had made especially to match my room) not giving a second thought to dinner or dishes or laundry or bathrooms.  My Mom was a Mom of the 50's (and 60's and 70's) and everything in the house was just miraculously done.  It was the housemaid fairy!  Of course my Mom wasn't doing me any favors in that - as soon as I was out on my own - I had no idea that you needed to pull delicates out of the dryer before they dried (and shrunk) completely.  Where the heck did all the dust on the shelves, top of tv, etc. come from ?!  I never saw dust on anything in my home growing up!  

It's a beautiful, sunny day here in the South.  I think I'll go home and go through a few photo albums and close my eyes and try to imagine that I'm 12 and in my yellow bedroom - waiting to be called down to dinner.  Oh wait!  That would also mean that I would still have metal braces on my teeth and the food would get in them and I'd be in the bathroom all night trying to get it out.  On second thought - I think I'll go home, kiss a photo of my Momma and Daddy and whip out a Healthy Choice microwave meal and watch a recorded tv show from last night.   And if one of the kids needs their laundry washed - well, I'll probably end up doing it for them at some point.  Like I said, I wonder why they're not more self sufficient?

Disturbing My Southern Sensibilities: Just About Anything Southern Can Make Me Cry

Disturbing My Southern Sensibilities: Just About Anything Southern Can Make Me Cry: "Okay, so I will say that I grew up in the same southern city that I'm living in today. In the 1970's IBM relocated and what seemed lik..."