...a semi-clean kitchen.
...Starbucks Breve Latte.
...seeing my Lil Sis (beautifulbeautifulbeautiful!).
...visiting with two aunts whom I haven't seen for at least 10 years.
...figuring out yarn-over-purl stitch.
...looking forward to getting my hands in the dirt this week.
I found my kitchen. Tucked into it before family visiting time on Sunday...man, that feels good, having counter space back. Just in time too...our refrigerator is on the fritz again, so we have to defrost everything, which puts our cold food sitch in limbo for a day or three. Yay.
Saturday was a recharge day...this month's womenly fun kicked my arse, so I did a whole lot of nothing and feel very little guilt. Besides, finally getting the ball rolling on the cleaning means it'll start now, in drips and drabs over the next few weeks...something about seeing my counters again, there's this "light at the end of the tunnel" thing going on...and no, it's not the headlamp of an oncoming train. Occasionally I'm able to dispense with the cynicism.
So my blond stringbean of an autistic nephew is playing at my brother's house yesterday. He and Cyril have these bargaining conversations, where Hunter will ask for a particular toy and Cyril will put him off by saying, well, maybe for your birthday in September. So Hunter was saying to Cyril that he needs another funnel-shaped piece and some tracks for one of his marble sets, and Cyril puts him off, and Hunter counters with something like, OK, then how about for Grandsir's birthday in June?
Grandsir was my dad. I get that time probably passes quite differently for autistics, but boy! How the frick does he remember something like that?
We were doing some reminiscing about that delightful time in our lives almost 2 years ago, and Meara brought up a memory I'd forgotten. Dad passed on a Saturday, we went home, cleaned up, went back to Mom's, and sat around in a dazed condition before going out to dinner. The phone rings, Meara answers it, we figure it's another condolensce call. It's United Healthcare, calling to talk to Dad to try and sell him a supplemental insurance package. While Meara gently explained that that wouldn't be necessary given the day's events (making the sales girl cry in the process), the rest of us pretty much laughed until our sides hurt, at the randomness of life. I remember pointing upward (toward heaven) and saying, "that was you, wasn't it?"
Momma Zen, who gave me a lesson today in patience, in recognizing when there's nothing you can do. Les couldn't come to visit with my family and the aunts yesterday, because he was knocked flat with a migraine. I'd promised he'd be there, because the aunts were from out of town and I wanted him to meet them. When it was apparent he wasn't going to make it, I let my frustration show. When he asked if I was mad, I did what I always do, rationalize it, deflect...I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the situation, I'm mad at your pain management doctor. Momma Zen helped remind me of the futility of being mad at all, when the situation is entirely out of your control, when it's something in which you absolutely cannot alter the outcome.
All my favorite blogs at right, because they remind me of the life I wish to lead and give me lessons in working toward it. I read SouleMama and dream of a life with kids and crafts and home-baked food. I read Granola Girl and dream of attachment parenting, living outside the city, and maintaining a more spartan lifestyle. I read One Green Generation and am inspired to continue recycling, get planting, and make the world better. We have so much to learn from one another.