Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Despite actually planning out every meal this week on Sunday night, and despite grocery shopping for all the food for said meals, and despite mapping out the goings-on of the past two days in my head, I still found myself scrambling at the dinner hour, both yesterday and today.
This is nearly unheard of for me, this planning and mapping, and yet I still managed to scramble at dinnertime, just like I do every night.
This week my theme has been inadequacy. I've been chock full, bursting at the seams, with self-deprecating thoughts and feelings. In fact, sometimes my seams did burst. Into tears. Big ones. Dripping-off-your-chin kind of tears. It hasn't been pretty.
I felt those ugly, dark feelings churning as I considered the scramble, despite my planning. I recognized the descent I would shortly make into self-pity and disgust.
And then, magically, I stopped. The black cloud dissipated with a thought. There was something magical in today and that was using some of my gifts to help someone I love. I was simply a listening ear and a few words of advice, but it felt appreciated. And in serving, I felt fulfilled.
Plans were never my strong point anyway.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
I wrote the other day about my Google Reader issues. (P.S. Thanks to all y’all who suggested I stop following the blogs I was trying to ditch. It worked! So far anyway…) I still track a lot of blogs, and I love reading them. A couple I still subscribe to are crafty/furniture-revampy/creative blogs. I love to read them. Admittedly, I’m a little addicted to them. I can link-chase through blogs for hours if I’m not careful. You know, look at one blog that someone linked and then get drawn in and scour it for a while, and then link to another blog… scour, repeat. It’s dangerous.
One of the problems I’ve found (aside from draining hours as easily as I drain my tub) is that I create brain-clutter for myself. I look at these blogs and think, I could do that! And then I think about it some more. And I think a little more. And then I see some piece of furniture at a thrift store and I think, HEY! I could fix that up just like ___________ (insert your favorite amazing blogger/furniture restore-er)! And sometimes I actually buy the piece. And then I let it sit for a hundred years, all the while I think about it and know it’s there on the backburner waiting to be done. Think, think, think.
I bet if I just got down and dirty and did the dang project I would use about 80% less energy. Maybe even 90%. That is some serious energy reduction. Do you think I could get some sort of grant for that? Is there a “carbon footprint” from brain energy expended?
Anyway, I think I’m trying to say that I should either stop reading these dang blogs or do something about it. I would love it to be the latter. There’s great satisfaction that comes from actually creating something with my hands. *Sigh*
So, for all of you saying to yourself, “THEN JUST DOOOOO IT, CLANCY!!!” I say, “OK?”
I’m scared. But I’m going to post something next week that I either made or revamped or finally finished. Mmmkay? And since I’m the kind of girl who works best under pressure, I’m going to proclaim a deadline to the world.
I can’t tell you how this terrifies me. But it’s about growth, right? And I’m not waitin’ for spring. I am a greenhouse, growing right on through those subzero temperatures. (Like –19 on Wednesday… yuck.)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
As it turns out, that was the dachshund’s name. Phoebe. I found an ad on Craigslist Sunday night about a little female “wiener dog” who was missing from the area we found her. (I might have found the ad sooner had they put the word “dachshund” somewhere in the post… duh.)
So, we were dog owners for less than 48 hours. And that’s ok with me.
After the first day I knew she wasn’t “THE” dog for us. I would’ve kept her and loved her but she didn’t settle well. My kids were broken hearted… particularly Ella who repeatedly declared that little Miss Dachshund was her best friend. Ella sobbed and cried when we told her we found the owners. We told them at about 7 a.m. on Monday morning. I wasn’t sure when the owners were going to come pick the dog up so I let the kids stay home until she left. It didn’t end up being very long, but Ella was so distraught, I couldn’t think of sending her on the bus, which she doesn’t love anyway. So, the kids had a (heart)sick day from school. (Mac actually was sick and I was already planning to keep him home, and Rohan wasn’t nearly as upset as Ella, but how could I send him when the other two got to stay?)
We kept the little collar we bought for Miss D (no, we didn’t name her that, but we did call her Doxie now and then) and Ella put it around her stuffed dog’s neck. She then attached the leash we had borrowed from my mom and pulled that stuffed dog around for at least half of the day. It was a small tragedy in the life of Ella Brae.
But, time passed and she is better now.
And I must say that I’m relieved the dog is back at her home, but probably not quite as relieved as Dustin, who cleaned up not one… not two… not even three… but FOUR little dachshund piles and one little dachshund puddle from our living room rug.
Good thing we invested in a steam cleaner, one of the few things I can thank landlording for.
Farewell, Miss Dachshund. It was a good 41 hours.