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I’m okay! Really!

People are looking at me funny, asking me if I’m all right in a heartfelt way and sending me email so I guess I should let you know I’m okay. Thank you for your concern. I know I’ve been writing some gloomy entries here lately, but day-to-day I’m in a pretty good mood.

In addition to keeping up with my regular job, I’m learning to use Cascading Style Sheets and re-designing our yellow house web site (yes, I’ve gone back to hand-coding, Bill). It’s exciting. I had a web design/programming job back in the dawn of the web so it’s fun to update my (very modest) skills.

I’m also reading quite a bit–just finished two books last week. Right now I am enjoying the short stories of Katherine Mansfield, alternating with some gardening essays by Anne Raver. My sister lent me a book yesterday that I couldn’t resist starting called “Birds in Fall.” I read the first chapter before bed last night. It was gripping, but afterward I dreamed about crashing airplanes. Maybe I’ll save that one for reading earlier in the day.

And, of course, I have my extensive dog-walking duties. When I need a lesson in enjoying the present moment, Cammy is ever ready to oblige.

Family, Philosophy

Weeding my thoughts


I spent a fair amount of time weeding the garden yesterday. As often happens when I am engaged in a mindless chore, my thoughts go their own merry way, which is to say, in my case, they get a little negative.

As I worked yesterday, my thoughts became mired in writing an imaginary letter to a specific person I was feeling angry with. I suddenly realized that I had inadvertently pulled up a couple of innocent little seedlings along with the crab grass.

As I slowed down and re-focused on the task at hand, it occurred to me that pulling weeds is a lot like developing a more peaceful attitude. I am far more happy and peaceful when I am not wallowing in negativity. I can’t help the negative thoughts appearing anymore than I can prevent the weeds from sprouting. But I can decide which thoughts get to stay in my mind and which ones are pulled out and tossed in the ash heap.

Nostalgia

My career as a promtrotter

My niece went to her high school prom this weekend. She goes every year. Apparently the whole school does. It all seems very democratic, but don’t you kind of miss that feral atmosphere where only the really popular were sure they would be going to the prom? For the rest of us, it was just survival of the fittest all the way.

I have to smile when I look at photos from my own prom-going history. My brother is going to kill me for this, but here we are with our respective dates, just before the Roy C. Ketcham High School senior prom in June 1977. I was only a junior, but my boyfriend was a senior. Check it out. I’m in peach and my date is in a lovely beige tux with a peach-ruffled shirt. We definitely worked together on the color scheme.

I don’t remember the name of my brother’s date, but it looks like we might have coordinated colors ahead of time, too. We didn’t. We both have typically 70s hairstyles. I’ve got the super-straight Marcia Brady look, while what’s-her-name is obviously going for the Farrah Fawcett feathered ‘do. The dress I’m wearing is actually the same dress I made for my junior prom, but I cleverly removed the long sleeves. I wonder if anyone noticed. This photo does not do justice to the print on my brother’s tux, by the way. And don’t even get me started on those bow ties!

Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man