I just wrote, and then deleted, three new posts today. Once was about the Oscars award season, another was about my daughter’s senior year, and the third was about the struggle with my mother’s living arrangements and her acceptance of her limitations.
They were all crap; so, I tossed them.
I will try again, and hope the proper muse hits me, soon.
On a positive note, I am quite giddy because I found out a new yarn shop is opening LITERALLY down the street from me (not even three whole blocks away). My husband and I were walking down to have a beer at the tap room (LITERALLY, four blocks away), when we saw the new tenants putting up their banner. I almost hyperventilated when I saw the images of yarn and notions up there in full color!
We used to have a very, very good yarn shop in town, but it was nearly a 40 minute drive away from me. Economically, an area cannot support very many yarn shops because they cater to a relatively small percentage of the overall population. That shop closed when the owners decided to retire; another sprung up not far away from the original, but it does not really appeal to me. Plus, the drive.
So, I am very, very happy. My husband, not so much. I did ask the bartender what he thought of a knit/crochet night at the tap room. I realized that most of the people I know who work with yarn, also drink beer. It’s the perfect demographic. We have the money to spend on beer, but aren’t likely to cause problems with the bouncers. Am I right?
I love Halloween. It has been my favorite holiday since I can remember. I love to costume it up. This year, sister was hosting another of her fabulous, famous murder mystery parties. The theme was Once Upon a Murder, a fairytale setting. Cinderella has disappeared and there is a gathering at Prince Charming’s place to find out why.
Because of Mom’s situation, I could not commit to a major role in the party for fear that I might not have been able to leave town. So I was given an extra character, and I got to dress up as the Snow Queen! I made an outfit from a recycled evening gown I bought at the thrift store about a decade ago. I’ve worn it for several events. I ended up stepping in as a sub for Snow White because she was called away at the beginning of the party due to her children becoming ill.
My sister and her family made fabulous props.
Her friends went all out in their costuming. Seriously. In the interest of privacy, I’m not posting the pictures here, but I had to share the guy who was a prince dressed as “Prince.” Genius. (Not to mention, how special is my snowflake wine glass?)
We had fun. (And yes, I had a strand of lights woven into my hair. My hair is big enough to hide the battery box.)
At the end of two grueling weeks with my mother’s cancer planning and surgery, while killing some time between family meetings and outings with relatives, my sister and I decided we needed some pretty beads to enhance a special knitting project designed to last the duration of this fall football season.
After perusing the disappointing beadery section at the nearby big box craft store, she turned to me and said, “there has to be something better.”
Which we found. In a small, cramped antique store near downtown, that was filled to every corner with beads, beads, beads!
The proprietor slept in her chair, calculator at the ready, only waking once to remind us that each strand was individually priced. We spent a good 45 minutes rummaging through bins and bins and racks and racks of beads. When we brought our selections to pay, the lady awoke from her slumber and began chatting and telling stories at a speed similar to the inflation of an emergency raft after pulling the ripcord.
We did find out that her daughter has a lee-jit-i-mit business with a computer and everything, but this lady does not like writing tickets no siree, and her daughter fussed at her because the IRS wants her to pay her taxes and such. (We listened to this after a long, rambling tale about how in the old days folks didn’t get divorced, and some guy came popping up put of the high cotton, mmmmmmmm hmmm…).
She said my total was $14.00, so i handed her a $20. Then she tole us, she didn’t cheat the Feds, not ever, and they were welcome to come in and count her inventory (HA HA HA HA), and if she cheated, people would know it, as she peeled off a five dollar bill and handed it to me for change.
I learned that everything happens at once. You can cruise along for months, just addressing the steps of your regular routine, with a few minor hiccups, here and there. But, often, when the sh*t hits the fan, it hits hard, loud and messy. I mean, even THE PUPPY GOT SICK!
(Yes, I have a puppy. She’s 8 months old. Deuce is annoyed.)
I learned that I still love geocaching. The hobby has been re-energized in me with a vengeance this summer, and it has served as a fantastic, healthful distraction.
I learned that Alabama has a Stonehenge. Y’all. A freakin’ large-as-life STONE HENGE.
I learned that outlandish irreverence and the resulting gut-splitting laughter are the best way for me to cope. If you can’t laugh, problems will consume you.
I learned that a cave filled with 300,000 bats smells really, really bad… a horrible odor that lingers in your memory for days.
I learned that should you accidentally stir up a hornet’s nest in your daily adventures, just run away. Sometimes, following your primal instincts is the best course of action. Especially, when there are stingers involved. And back country roads. And no help for miles.
I learned that Alabama has a lot of other kinds of bitey bugs, too. But, they are counterbalanced by hidden gems of natural wonder all over this great state.
I learned to question my judgement. It’s not always sound. In the process, however, I also learned that finding easy geocaches in the dark, makes them more challenging, and a whole bunch of fun, especially due to the added fear of getting arrested.
I learned sometimes you can’t plan every solution to every problem. They apparently don’t lend themselves well to algorithmic design. Sometimes, you just have to give it up, let go, and take it one day, one hurdle at a time.
Nearly, most of all, I learned that I need an outlet of some sort (verbal vomit?). Somehow, I keep being drawn back to doing this. I do not know if it is just my way of keeping a journal, or something else. I will continue to refrain from blogging about work related topics, but there is plenty other fodder in this girl’s life.
But, absolutely, most of all, I learned I can get through anything with my family by my side.