Saturday, March 26, 2011

Too Much Good Stuff

Perhaps you may have noticed the frequency of my blogging coincides exactly with my physical and emotional health. Sad me = lots of blogging, poetry writing, picture taking. Happy me = very little creative output. I suppose you can put that all down to "tortured artist" effect. (As an aside, I can NEVER remember whether to use affect or effect, despite countless drills and useless memory tricks.) You will note that this is a happy spell for me. Life is pretty excellent. I'm planning a trip to Florida for a week to visit my sister. My brother just had a birthday, then two days later, my sister had her birthday, THEN two days after that my niece was born. I wish my life could just loop in the month of March for awhile. It tends to be one of my happiest months. Not to mention I'm on very effective medication right now, so no tummy troubles to speak of. The weather is excellent. I just got a hammock for the sweet price of free. My animals are living in harmony. I'm going to school. Working. Managing to still have fun.
I've been writing since elementary school and the opportunity to look back on years of life records via written word is sort of enchanting. Sadly, I have lost most of the journals I kept when I was really young, but since high school I started keeping better track of the writing. I have always had dry spells, and I'm sure it was during times in my life of great happiness. It gets me to thinking I'm really cheating myself out of some excellent memories by only recording the bad stuff. Which ALSO gets me thinking, I'm more the type of person who will remember when a wrong has been done to me than a right. I'll be attempting to put forth a more conscious effort to display the whole shabang going forward. I can't promise there'll be more poems that make you feel all glittery afterward, pictures of flowers or fuzzy kittens, but at least a bare bones effort to let ya know I'm still thriving. Hooray for good times!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

1/4 Century and Counting

Yesterday was my brother's birthday. I remember all the love and war we went through as little tykes together. Now he's a quarter of a century old. Man the time does fly. My brother is one of my best friends in the world, and I can't think of anyone else I would be as happy to grow up with. Happy birthday, baby brother. I love you!

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Hair Spiders

I never realized how personal the subject of grooming can be until I sat down for this post. Richard and I have two different bathrooms in our house, and since we're the only occupants I have claimed the hall bathroom as my own. His bathroom is pretty much uncharted territory for me. However, a few months back, there was a problem with the water pressure in my shower, so I used his. My shower has a little removable drain for trapping wayward hair that I clean out after every shower. Since Richard's shower didn't have one, and I didn't think to extract mine before I used his shower, I became a watery hair trapper of the first order. I would not let his drain be troubled with hair! It was my duty as a guest showerer! So throughout the process of hair washing I would do a little trick I like to call "the palm roll" where I'd take hair in my palm and roll it around until it became a tight little hair ball. During said shower, I generated two small hair balls that I sat to the side, beside the bathtub plug, to pick up once the shower was over. Only I didn't pick them up. I completely forgot about them and went on my merry way.


On Monday evening I came home to a very frazzled Richard. He was giving me a list of complaints about his face, shoulder, arm and knee being in pain.
"What happened?" I inquired.
"Well, I was taking a shower and went to move the bathtub plug and I saw these two spiders underneath of it. One of them jumped toward me when I picked up the drain, so I tried to get to the other end of the shower to get away. Except I couldn't because one of them was still attached to the drain plug that was in my hand, so I dropped it and tried to get out of the shower and I slipped and fell and hurt myself." He paused for a moment to give me a hard stare. "You know what I realized then?"
Now, the moment he mentioned the bathtub plug, I began trying to wrestle with concealing my laughter and simultaneous concern as the cold hand of guilt slithered up my spine.
"What did you realize?" I said, hardly able to hold down a booming laugh.
"I realized they weren't spiders at all. They were your hair. I WAS TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR HAIR SPIDERS AND I SLIPPED AND FELL IN THE BATHTUB!"
As you may imagine, tears of laughter ensued.