Thursday, September 30, 2010
It costs ONLY $150,000.00, and only 8 are made each year.
Yes, I would give up my Jeep to tool around to construction sites in this.
Here's the link to the story.
Beverage: Tea (I used up about 3 bags that were on their last cup.)
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I was too tired to cook.
So, I review my meager finances and discovered that I could order pizza for delivery but I had to be very careful about what kind. Checking out the Domino's web site, they have a special for one large pizza with any toppings for $8.99. This is a good deal. I have had pizza for lunch for 2 days now because a large is more than enough for me and for leftovers. I had money for a tip. I don't add the tip to the debit card if I can help it. One of the drivers, when I handed him the tip, blurted out, "Oh thank you for cash for the tip. I don't have to claim it as income." Well, technically, I think he does, but I understand his sentiment. It's worth it to me to have it delivered.
I like Domino's pizza, at least the one I usually get; sausage, bacon and cheddar cheese. I think the real fun of ordering from them is
It's pretty accurate. By the time the order gets to #5, I know my pizza is about 10 minutes away. Add a beer and this is a great supper. Even Mija seemed to think so although, once given a sniff, she decided that cats really don't like pizza.
Beverage: Blackberry Sage tea
Monday, September 27, 2010
My mother and I spent Friday morning and early afternoon last week, visiting the relatives who don't move anymore. They are in the same place all the time. It was a very overcast day with a chill wind from the west.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
It was with increasing excitement that I watched the announcement this morning about Jon Stewards "Million Moderate March". You can read about it here but please do yourself a favor and watch the 11 minute announcement.
All the hyperbole and laughter aside, Stewart is making what I firmly believe is a point lost in these troubled times. Discourse and dialogue are almost dead. We don't engage each other in conversation to find out how we feel about issues. We drag our soapbox to the corner and scream, "Are you listening to me?" It's not about finding common group anymore. It's about "my way or the highway". You accept my position or you're garbage.
I tend to bury my head in the sand when it comes to politics. I probably shouldn't. There are things I believe and support and there are things I don't believe and won't support. It's just that by taking a stand in this current political climate, you risk having people less informed scream obscenities at you. I just don't care to be exposed to that.
Steward is right, I think, in stating that 80% of Americans want it to just go away. I think a majority of us are tired of the screaming at each other from both sides. We may take what the Glen Becks or the James Carvilles have to stay to heart but we're tired of being yelled at. We'd really rather sit down with one another, have some coffee, tea and a slice of cake, and decide whether the military needs another plane. We're used to making compromises in our lives and we can't understand why we can't all just get along. It's okay to have diverse opinions. We learned that when we were founding this country. But we also learned we can't go ahead if we're being pulled at both sides.
I remember Dr. King's March on Washington and the subsequent marches using the National Mall as a platform for rhetoric and fervor. "Ooooh, that might be fun to be a part of," I thought, but never really wishing for a 15-hour bus ride to stand for 3 hours and listen to speakers. This, however, makes me wish I could. "Restore sanity" is a nice idea. If it would get people talking to one another, that's what would be extraordinary.
Then again, maybe that's too much to ask for a country so divided.
Beverage: China Black tea
I'm not going to decry the use of social media and the web. After all, I have this blog and I have a Facebook account. I've become quite adept at maintaining both. I don't use Twitter and don't really have a desire to learn it. I can, as witnessed by my Facebook posts, limit myself to a few characters to express what I'm thinking. Twitter just doesn't strike me as something I want to do. My lack of blog posts of late is not due to a lack of material, but rather a lack of energy in wanting to post.
I'm going to reminisce on life before social media. My friend Patt wrote in a letter last fall that she wondered if I would continue to write my long missives, which she thoroughly enjoys taking onto the screen porch with a cup of tea, now that I have a blog. I have to admit that I use this form more frequently than I do the printed word. And my printer wasn't working. I updated the software and bought new toner but I haven't tried the printer since. It's on the list of things to do.
I used to pour myself into my letters. A friend passed away 5 years ago. Before he died, he sent me a box containing all the correspondence we had maintained over the 10 years I knew him. I was flabbergasted. I still have the box in the basement. At some point, I will sit down and reread the letters. I knew him during a time of great upheaval in my life. I'm certain I will find insights I didn't see.
I had a college friend who, when we graduated and I moved away, saved all my letters for a period of 2 years. She said she loved to reread them because she missed the long conversations we used to have in the lounges after classes.
I remember, as a teenager, talking for hours on the phone with friends. It is a right of passage to monopolize the current "popular" form of communication. Of course, when I was a teen, the idea of a computer sitting on a desktop or carried within one's hand, was something out of Disney's Future World or Star Trek.
I do pause to wonder how people communicated in the 18th Century, when this country was first founded. How is it that communication between colonies when telegraphy wasn't even dreamed of, became united under a common goal when the "mass" media consisted of words printed on paper, words which were hand set, letter by letter, in rows by trained apprentices. Today, we ponder the death of the printed word, as evidenced by the demise of newspapers and brick and mortar bookstores in favor of pixels being arranged on a screen.
How did people feel watching their family members board a boat for this place called "the New World" or "the United States of America", knowing that letters may never come from them again? Unlike our ability to send an instant message to my friend, Amber, in Melbourne, Australia, my ancestors, who climbed aboard the British Bark "Sterling" in Dundee, Scotland, were leaving everything behind. A letter written in New York upon arrival three months after setting sail, might not make it back to Coupar, Fife, Scotland. There were no guarantees.
We have become dependent upon the immediacy of communication. Witness the swarm of correspondents around a news event and the demand for information when it unfolds. We were content, 40 years ago, to wait for news on the assassination of President Kennedy even though we were anxious and fearful simply because it's what we knew. A potential attempt on the Pope's life has people demanding to know the names, ages, addresses, motives, favorite beers and color of socks of the alleged perpetrators NOW, not tomorrow. I'm sure it makes gathering evidence harder when an area is swarmed by people wanting to know information that can't be released lest it jeopardize an investigation. And, in saying, "We can't release any information", people immediately assume there is something to hide.
I think, sometimes, unplugging myself for a week would be a wonderful idea. I have become more in touch with one of my brothers and a niece than I had previously because they don't write letters. I have connected with friends in ways I probably wouldn't have had we been limited to what came through on a piece of paper.
But I am old school and I do miss curling up with a cat and a cup of tea and poring through letters. I have to be one of the few people who enjoys the Christmas letters sent even if some of them come off as bragging. At least I know what you've done with your life in the past year.
So, go without? No, I don't think so. Social media sites and the web are too intricately linked to our lives now. I think it is very good idea to step back, step away, step down and reconnect to who you are as a person without the cell phone attached at the hip and the computer attached at the fingers.
Beverage: China Black Tea
When I ripped off Monday's word and came upon the above as Tuesday's word of the day, I was rather taken aback. I count on my Word-a-Day calendar to expand my language. Indeed, it has given me my favorite word, "obnubilate". I felt this word was tasteless and encouraged the obfuscation of statement rather than clarity.
But then I got to thinking. "Bromance", "Chillax" and "Wardrobe Malfunction" have been added to the Merriam Webster dictionary this year. (1. A close relationship between two men; 2. A word used to ask someone to calm down and relax; 3. The exposing of an intimate part of the body due to the failure of an article of clothing. You're welcome.) The English language is hugely flexible, embracing words of all types. That's what makes it so ubiquitous and the choice for communication. Our language's pliability makes it ideally suited for new words or the mashing together of old words to become a new one.
While I will continually advocate for clear and concise speech, "disremember" has a place in the lexicon. I doubt it's going to be hugely popular until some comedian or politician uses it. It sounds like a willful act. Perhaps it's all in the context as so much communication is. "I disremembered my pants" sounds more plausible than "I disremember what happened on the night of July 18th".
I am reminded of a quote from Alice in Wonderland.
"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said in a rather scornful tone, "it means what I choose it to mean - nor more nor less."
Beverage: China Black tea
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Lake Shore Drive the road is called and it’ll take you up or down
From rags on up to riches fifteen minutes you can fly
Pretty blue lights along the way, help you right on by
And the blue lights shining with a heavenly grace, help you right on by
And there ain’t no road just like it
Anywhere I found
Running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town
Just slippin’ on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound
And it starts up north from Hollywood, water on the driving side
Concrete mountains rearing up, throwing shadows just about five
Sometimes you can smell the green if your mind is feeling fine
There ain’t no finer place to be, than running Lake Shore Drive
And there’s no peace of mind, or place you see, than riding on Lake Shore Drive
And there ain’t no road just like it
Anywhere I found
Running south on Lake Shore drive heading into town
Just slicking on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound
And it’s Friday night and you’re looking clean
To early to start the rounds
A ten minute ride from the Gold Coast back make sure you’re pleasure bound
And it’s four o’clock in the morning and all of the people have gone away
Just you and your mind and Lake Shore Drive, tomorrow is another day
And the sunshine’s fine in the morning time, tomorrow is another day
And there ain’t no road just like it
Anywhere I found
Running south on Lake Shore drive heading into town
Just snaking on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound
I suppose it really dates me to say that I remember when this song was a hit. I found the lyrics on the Internet but I would dispute some of the words. Still, it's close. Three years after it was released, my family and I came to Chicago for the first time and drove Lake Shore Drive. I remember being thrilled to finally be on the road that the song discussed. The song always, always pops into my head when I get to drive LSD on these beautiful early fall days.
Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah, a medley of their hit.
Beverage: Irish Breakfast Tea
Monday, September 13, 2010
Those are standard 8 inch tall concrete blocks on which it's resting. This should give you some sense of the size of this.
The guy from the company who was walking around with me said, "Ewwww. Gross!" and one of his co-workers was going to smash it. I thought it was beautiful but I didn't have time to pick it up and move it.
I spent a couple hours pouring over moth photos online but I have no idea what kind this is. Unlike the milkweed caterpillars of August 14th, I have no frame of reference for beginning a search. "Big moths" didn't really yield anything helpful. Finding this on the side of a building and not against, say a tree, doesn't help me in narrowing down a search for kind.
I like these kinds of serendipitous finds when I'm out and about. There is so much of life that goes unseen because we are focused on the task. I wish I could have brought this bug home so I could see what, if anything, it turned into.
The other thing I thought of was, I don't want something this large in the house. Mija loves to chase the millers and moths that fly in at night. It's bad enough when 10 pounds of cat land in my lap as she's chasing something three quarters of an inch long. What if she were chasing this?
ER Nurse: So how did you get all these scratches?
Deb: Well the cat was chasing Mothra through the house...
This is the driver's side window in the Jeep. See how the zipper has "popped"? This presents a large problem. I would like to unzip the window on these lovely fall days, but I can't get the zipper to work through the pop. I've got two places on the windows where this has happened. The other side effect is that cold air and moisture comes in.
Should I take some WD40 and spray the zipper? Would that help? Any other suggestions? As the zipper has popped in two locations, should I maybe ask my mechanic for a referral to get the zipper replaced? The wipers have to come first so I'll just tough this out, but I'd like to know if someone can suggest a decent fix that doesn't cost me an arm and a leg.
Beverage: Dr Pepper
The next step is to start carving the linoleum block. I have to print, on the inside of the cards, the holiday wishes. Once the block is carved, I can start printing the cards. I thought I had saved the other block I did. It said "NOEL" on the front and I printed some in green and some in red. I can't find the block anywhere so I must have tossed it.
When it gets down to printing, I will do that on the kitchen table. The cats aren't allowed on the kitchen table so I don't have much worry about them hopping up and stepping into blue printer's ink. While it's water clean up, you want to come help me grab Pilchard with her hairy toes and hold her while I wash kitty feet? Didn't think so. Preventing them from jumping up is better than chasing a cat with blue feet through the house.
Beverage: Dr Pepper
My route on Thursday took me north and south on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago.
The day was perfect with puffy clouds, a light breeze and warm temperatures. If I hadn't had so much to do, I might have considered playing hooky for an hour and just sitting by the lake.
In all the frenzy over how we came to be, how life originated, I think there is some credence to life beginning in the oceans and then coming onto land. Although there are a lot of cities and towns that spring up in an area which is a natural crossroads, I grew up near one such place, I think people gravitate to areas where there is water. It's not just that there is a convenient source of drinking water, but I think there is an affinity that's in our genes to be in the presence of water. I think we're attracted to it. We live next to water. We live on water. We play in it. We derive food from it.
I sometimes think about moving away, getting away from the hub-bub that is metropolitan life. I've remarked before about considering retiring next to the Mississippi River. There is an example of wanting to be near water. In spite of the potential for flooding, we park ourselves next to running water. It's soothing and, in the case of Lake Michigan, ever changing in view.
If I lived closer to the lake I probably would, like so many others, spend more time just being by it. I love to watch sunrises over the lake. Watching the lights of the city come on is just magical as you stand on the deck of one of the boats that offer cruises of the lake. I remember sunrises and sunsets along the Mississippi and the few times I've gone to the ocean, watching either the sunrise or the sunset over the ocean has been a highlight of the trip.
Yes, there is something about water that draws me in.
Beverage: Dr Pepper
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Sometimes, my job is just fun. Even though I had to get up at 5 a.m. and be out the door and on the expressway north by 5:45 a.m., I got to see a very cool event.
These two smoke stacks used to be part of a large building at what was the Milwaukee Road's headquarters in the Menominee Valley between downtown Milwaukee and where Miller Park, home of the Brewers, is located. When the railroad ceased to exist as a corporate entity, chunks of land were developed as train tracks were removed and buildings demolished. I don't know what building these were attached to. I just know that they were slated for implosion.
There had been talk of saving them, but deterioration due to the elements combined with their size made the cost prohibitive.
Demolition was supposed to be in July, but various factors served to push it back to Saturday, September 4th. Everyone was beat but we were contracted to provide our support services so at least one of us needed to be in attendance. Three years ago, a smokestack from the old Ovaltine plant in Villa Park was demolished on a bright September afternoon and neither Rodney nor I could attend that one. So, I volunteered to be here as did Rodney. He was on the ground and I was on the bridge.
The only complication was a 30 mph wind out of the west. Those of us on the bridge were told to move either left or right of the location opposite the stacks lest we get covered in dust or something get caught by the wind. Below are a few of my photos.
In the end, it lay down exactly as they planned. Clean up of the street took roughly 30 minutes. I came home and took a nap.
We've been so busy lately I've been out in the field. We had bid on some bigger jobs that seemed to go nowhere and then suddenly, "Hi, we need your part done yesterday." Plus, we've had a lot of small jobs come in that need on-site work done. These are jobs we didn't bid on and didn't know about until the phone rings and we hear, "HELP!"
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
That's fine but the beverage in the center of the ad. That's...that's Guinness! Guinness beer. Brewed in Ireland since the 18th century. Not really available in the US until 1980's. Guinness; the beer people ask if you "chew it" instead of drinking it. Until Belhaven and other Scottish beers became more easily available, I drank Guinness because I like a beer with flavor.
A coupon good for a dollar off?
This is too much. First, they start canning it. Canned beer does not have the same flavor as bottled beer.
Then, you slap on the side of the can, some nonsense about needing to keep this beer cold. Guinness is NOT served cold. It is best served at "cellar" temperature. This advice comes from when keeping a new batch of beer from going bad meant keep it in the cellar which was a constant 55 degrees. That's not chilled and certainly not cold.
To me, this is distressing. It seems Guinness has "dumbed down" their beer. In the never-ending quest for money, they have stooped to that wholly American lure, the coupon. Guinness isn't for everyone, guys.
Will I use the coupon? I saved it, but I have been trotting over to Binny's Beverage Depot when I have the funds, and buying Scottish beers for they have an ample supply. So, I don't know if I actually will buy some Guinness or just recycle this bit of paper with the rest of the newspapers.
It seems sad to me. Guinness is as mainstream as Coors, who had a coupon in the flyer. I think I'll open a bottle of Old Engine Oil and toast to a time when Guinness meant rare.
I couldn't find them. So, I bought a pie crust, thawed it and tried to get it to fit across the top of the pan. You can see the result was less than smooth. Do they make pie crust sticks anymore?
The end result, warmed in the microwave and topped with french vanilla ice cream was heavenly. This recipe is definitely a "keeper". I finished the last bit last night, for supper, instead of eating the hamburger and cottage fries I'd made on Tuesday. We're so busy and I'm so tired, I'm choosing convenience over cooking.
I still have some ice cream. Guess I need to look into apple crisp or cobbler to use that up.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Today is a special day. It was one year ago today that two wonderful ladies joined my household. Mija and Pilchard have been a delight after the initial month of getting to know me and the house. I have enjoyed showing them the outside, for a very few moments, and bugs and a basement and all sorts of hiding places and room for each cat to really carve out a place of her own. Wednesday night and Thursday morning, Pilchard exhibited her hunting skills and caught 2 more mice, which is not a really good thing. By the time I got to the mice, they were deceased but I still can't figure out where they are living or how they are getting in.
I have learned their personalities. Mija is my lover cat and has me trained very well. She follows me into the kitchen any time I go there and demands to know what it is that I have because she's certain it's something she wants. Beyond treats, neither one eats people food. Mija sleeps with, next to and on me. She has the loud motor and is very talkative. She's not much of a cuddler except at night and in the morning. She loves ear scratches and follows me around, mainly to see if treats are involved in what I'm doing.
Pilchard is the diva. She chases Mija through the house and starts all the fights I have to break up. She comes into the bedroom and meows when I don't get up to suit her. She has settled onto my pillows as long as I'm willing to provide scratches but she never lasts more than 5 minutes. When I am at the computer, Pilchard lies on the table next to me, periodically looking up and meowing. At night, after work, I sit down to read newspapers or a magazine and she demands my lap and scratches. She more of a cuddler than Mija although she doesn't linger beyond 10 minutes.
They dislike thunderstorms and come to me for reassurance if the weather gets wild. They both like looking out the windows and will spend a bit of time on the deck if I'm out there. I have to watch it because Pilchard will try to get off the deck. She's got a small voice and motor. It's funny to think that such a tiny "meow" comes out of such a big cat.
It's been a rough year for me. Two things that keep me going have four legs and a tail. I know I would have been more depressed had I not had these two to love. Yes, I have more scars from trying to clip Pilchard's claws. She really does not like that, but we can come to an "understanding" mainly because she can't get away. She's also got some mats that are resisting being combed out. They have both learned my footfalls on the deck and they don't run when Pam comes to feed them. They do take off when I say, "Ooooh, where are my kitties? I want some cuddles." "Nope, nope! She's got that tone in her voice. Run!"
After a long day, all I have to do to destress is spend 20 minutes giving ear, head or chin scratches. Nothing beats coming home and saying, "Where are my girls?" and having two bright faces in the living room waiting for me.
Beverage: China Black tea
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A marine from Wheaton was killed in Afghanistan last month. Lance Corporal Kevin Oratowski died while on patrol. His family is a member of the church I still have membership with, but I did not know them. He was 4 years behind Carole so the chances that they were in youth group together are slim.
His funeral was held on Saturday. I had received word from my pastor about the funeral but, as I didn't know the family, I didn't file away, in my head, the particulars. I got up and went about my morning and then decided to drive to Hobby Lobby, which is east along Roosevelt Road. I was headed back, intending to stop at Dominicks for groceries and I noticed, at major intersections, policemen getting out of their cars and putting on their safety vests. This would be indicative of them needing to stop traffic for something. I couldn't, at the time, remember what.
As I came up the hill towards the grocery, I saw the flashing lights. As I was in the right lane, I instinctively slowed, unsure about what I was seeing. There were two police cars and a fire truck. They were moving rather slowly for an emergency. As the distance between us shrank, I realized it was the funeral cortege. Behind the fire truck were at least 20 members of the Patriot Guard, the Daily Herald said they were the Warrior Watch Riders. Then came the hearse and then another 8 riders and the rest of the procession.
I was pulling into the parking lot, which was a good thing because I didn't realize I would be so overcome with emotion. The procession passed slowly, going about 30 miles an hour down the hill, heading east. I parked and watched, tears streaming down my face. Even now, as I type this, 5 days removed, it's hard not to cry.
I didn't support the war in Iraq and I don't support continued action in Afghanistan. I have been told, by people who know, that I would be "astonished" at the numbers of people, of organized groups, who hate the United States with such a passion that they would attempt to attack us. While I do believe this, I also don't believe we should be the world's policeman and we certainly shouldn't be attempting to impose our form of government on people who can't understand it or make it work. What works here, and we all know we use the term "works" loosely, isn't suitable for everyone else.
But, the military was this young man's choice for his career. We need people willing to provide for our security, both at home and in lands far away from Wheaton. While I don't agree with where he was sent, I strongly support him and others like him. They provide a guarantee that I can sleep at night and only have to worry about the mosquito in the bedroom.
I came of age during Vietnam. My hometown had one son killed in action there. I heard a number of stories of how hard it was to integrate back into civilian life when you were returning from a hugely unpopular war. I think, as a nation, we have learned our lesson in how we treat our military veterans. It's about respect. Those returning must be respected as we respect anyone else. They are doing their jobs.
I hope, as the procession headed to the cemetery, many more people stopped, like me, and wished some peace for the family. I hope people paused to reflect on what it means to have people willing to give their lives so we can play football on Saturdays and grouse about taxes.
Beverage: Huckleberry Tea
"Please don't be worried mom, but, if the hurricane is going to hit us, we're going to David's parents' in Virginia."
This is where Earl was at 9 a.m. this morning. I heard that hurricane watches have been posted for Massachusetts. Well, Connecticut is right below Massachusetts. If Earl goes straight north, the northeast will have a wee bit o' weather.
I have friends in Florida and in 2004, when Charly and Ivan and Jeanne wracked the state, I worried about them. I have worried about my daughter when December 2008 was one of the snowiest on record for the Seattle area. They don't know how to handle the amount of snow they got. I never thought I'd worry about a hurricane.
She knows I'm going to worry. She knows I'm going to watch this storm with more interest now and wonder how she's doing. No amount of "Please don't worry" stops a mother from worry. I have friends in North Carolina, in Virginia, in Maryland, in New Jersey and in Pennsylvania. I am concerned about them, but there is something different when it's your child.
Beverage: Huckleberry Tea
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
It's September already. The summer was a blur. I've not been in the best of moods, grappling with an ennui I recognize. It seems to have settled in and I find myself preferring to just sit or sleep, rather than stay in touch with friends. "Wouldda, couldda, shouldda" has the siblings "can't" and "won't" with them.
So, I look at my resolutions, crafted back in the snowy start to the year, and I'm assessing how I'm doing.
Read a book a month. I have completed 4 books but the remaining 8 for a full year, aren't going to be read. Still, this is a mild success since I hadn't really read books at all last year.
Read a magazine a week. This is a definite success. I finished 6 magazines last month. I have chosen not to renew Mac/Life so that's not even coming in anymore. I gave them an additional try after I said "no more" and the one magazine I received was filled with iPhone and iPad stuff. Not all of us have this technology and it's a waste of my money to pay for something not useful to me.
Write a friend a real letter once a week. Abject failure. I'm writing, but it's not letters.
Add one more fruit or vegetable to my daily diet. This is a mild success. I read an article a month ago that said one of the problems with getting people to incorporate fruit and vegetables into their diet is that they cost so much more than chips. I'll attest to that. As much as I like fresh fruits and vegetables, they cost much more. And if you would prefer to buy local or organic, add 10-15% to the cost. I try to plan for that in the budget. I do try to have frozen on hand if I can't afford fresh so that I'm eating fruits and vegetables. Why don't people like peas? Just because I put them in everything...
Pay off one credit card. I am really close on this one. $150 and it will be gone. I have decided I will not use this card the rest of the year in the goal to get it paid off. Their minimum monthly payment is ridiculously low and that could entice me to stretch it out, but I'm not going to. It's an important mental victory for me to not have a bill from them every month. It's probably going to take through the end of the year as I try to make the income stretch, but it's going to be gone.
Pay for everything with cash. Successful except for gas and a few minor emergencies. And I bought that purse at Penney's. As we approach the massive gift giving orgy that is Christmas, it's going to be tempting to whip out the plastic. I'm going to do my level best to resist. I was able to use my salary to pay all but 3 bills yesterday. Those 3 will be paid next week. It's coming. It's a glacial pace, but it's coming.
Not stay up past 11:30 on work nights. This is mostly successful. I think I have done a decent job of telling my subconscious that "You are getting sleepy when you see 11:00 on your clock". I have, actually, been in bed by 11 lately. I am positive the ennui I feel contributes to that, but I have been sleeping much more soundly of late and I'm sure it's because I'm not going to bed at midnight and expecting to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6 when the alarm goes off.
Finish a craft project. Abject failure. My friend, Jessie, posted her craft projects to her blog and I had a huge twinge of "I have so many I want to finish". And then I wandered the aisles at Hobby Lobby thinking, "Oh I could use that to do this". Plus, I cleaned out the storage unit in the basement that holds my sewing patterns as well as cleared out two boxes that had junk in them. I found stuff I had forgotten I had but I found all my printing supplies. I just need the linoleum blocks and the ink and I can make my cards. Will I get beyond that? Who knows. Those steps in organization were huge on their own. This weekend, I'm off to Dick Blick Art Supplies for the linoleum block.
Don't get down on myself. 50-50 is about the best I can do here. I'm not plagued as much by the above "wouldda, couldda, shoulddas" as I used to be. I recognize the pothole for what it is. I can still fall into it or even stand in it, but it's not the gaping sinkhole from which there is no escape that these things were in the past. I wish I had someone I could hang around with, to take off and do stuff with. The loneliness gets to me. I've learned so much about myself this year, so much that makes me stronger. You'd think I could learn to be my own best company. When I'm standing in the kitchen, eating Cheerios out of the box, you know I'm glad there's no one around to "tsk tsk" at me. And yet, that would be rather nice.
I've learned not to pity myself. I've never had a use for pity anyway, but I would do the "oh, woe is me" even privately. I allow myself to feel bad and to be sorrowful and sad. Things aren't the way I would like them. But then, I force myself to sit down and write in my "Luck Journal" and I am reminded that I do have good luck and I can make good luck for myself. Life is what it is.
So, the end summation is that, while I have clearly failed in a couple of areas, I have succeeded in others. I am happy with the path on which I find myself. As I head into my favorite season, I am excited at what that season may bring.