It feels as if I’ve stepped into an alternate reality. The Hubs & I have been away from work for two weeks which is fast approaching its end. We have to return to the “other” place. Part of me misses The Ladies of Lunch. Part of me doesn’t miss the drama, the shenanigans & other people’s COVID stuff. We’ve had three close calls with our family & that’s three too many.
This past year stripped away any pretty veneer I was holding onto about our society. I know that since the election of 2016, my world has been shook, shaken & stirred. 2020 was the moldy candle on top. I’m not sorry to say that I’m glad it’s over. I can feel the warmth of light emanating from the end of the tunnel. I have to remember what’s been exposed & not be lulled back to sleep at my privileged wheel. There’s too much at stake.
I’m getting a clearer picture of what I want my life to feel like, taste like & how I want to show up in the world. Kinder is a big one. Compassionate is another one. I’m still figuring out how to weave some of this with my sharp edges. There are some topics that set me to cutting & lashing instead of reaching out a hand & communicating. There are some fabrics in my life that are far too precious to tear asunder.
The Hubs & I spent another day cutting up the remainder of pallets on the trailer. This makes me feel rich & abundant & warm & safe.
On a chilly day, having a fire to warm one’s body (& bitch about the smoke that likes to follow me no matter where I’m standing) is just AWESOME!
We’re painting the formerly known as The Son’s bedroom so it will soon become The Hubs’ hunting & fishing room. I love that The Hubs is not a trophy hunter or fisher. He prefers to hunt/catch what will keep us fed.
If you haven’t heard of Heather Cox Richardson, she’s an amazing historian who has helped put 2020 & politics into perspective. I’ve mentioned her before. She’s worth mentioning again. You can find her at:
New Year’s Eve was a day of grazing on snacks like cheese, shrimp, eggrolls & Arby’s mac ‘n cheese. January 1 was a day of room painting, stuffed pasta shells & roasted carrots with a binge-fest of last season of Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. The last two episodes were the best.
I hate painting rooms. I just do. I’m all gun-ho with a momentary lapse of memory until I’m covered in paint splats ready to throw the paintbrush at anyone near me. I told The Hubs that in any future rooms that we paint, he will have to do the corners & cutting in portions. Yes, I brought that part on myself with this room. Mental note taken & clues left for the next time we say, “Let’s paint this room!” This coming from the person who can spend hours doing fussy detailed work on a gourd doll, go figure.
There was no attempt to stay up until midnight. It happened anyway because The Bun heard a strange noise & woke me up. We believe someone was sending off fireworks. It certainly gave us pause for a hot minute there.
I love how The Hubs’ face lit up when I said, “Good morning handsome man”.
I’m going to finish the story I started, The Unabridged Story of Daemons.
I believe that’s enough wool gathered & ponders pondered for one morning thus far.
Please, if you feel inclined, share your woolgatherings & ponderings in the comments.