For a while today, I thought I was going to come home from teaching and wax profound, what with all the profundity swirling through my head as I taught. Then, I came home and listened to “Trucker’s Hitch,” the new song by Ylvis, and all I could think about is how my life would have been different if only I’d sat and contemplated what the fox says and paid a little more attention in music class back in high school so that I, too, could write songs about knots known only to the Boy Scouts. Once I got on that tangent, profundity left, so it appears you’ll be stuck with a coffee segment.
Try to be glass-half-full about the whole thing, can you?
After years of vacillating over whether to ballet or not to ballet, Baby-Girl took her first ballet class last week. When she’s on the fence about something, one small, pivotal moment will often decide her life-long perspective on the matter. So, I did my best to act nonchalant as we entered the studio, and prayed for a nice teacher, no natural disasters, and no wayward gnats (often it’s the small things).
On our way home, I asked her how she liked it. When she smiled, I knew the odds were forever in ballet’s favor.
It’s almost fall on the beach, so the tourists are receding, leaving us with more space to play. (Back in 2011, I wrote about tourism on the islands, if you care to hear some of my extended, both pretty and not-so-pretty thoughts on the matter.) We really do love y’all, but we’re also thankful for things like the reduction in commutes and wait time.
The kids took advantage of the open space to play paddle ball and thus entertain those around them, although our two silent observers from last fall were nowhere to be seen this time.
(In an effort to present a picture of our lives and to make this post as close to real life and real time as I can, LCB just passed through our room, where I’m writing at the moment, speaking an ancient language. I don’t know many people in life that do that, yet I somehow managed to marry one.)
In other non-lingual trials, last Friday night I sat down with a plate of cupcakes and my computer, intent on making some purchases after days of vacillating over whether to buy or not to buy. This, I decided, would be my treat after a hard week of work (the buying, that is; the cupcakes were sustenance). Imagine how disheartened I was, then, when I learned that the two items I had sitting in my cart for days were both out of stock. I now hate internet shopping. Plus, it’s hard to start over after the time I’ve already invested in seeking out these products. And now, the items that were in my cart keep showing up on my Facebook page and on other sites I’m using, reminding me of the price of indecision. I am much like Job, except without death and tragedy and bad friends with bad advice and itchy boils (not on my friends but on me) (although as a side note I don’t think any of my friends are suffering from itchy boils but you can never be sure because would you tell people you were suffering from itchy boils or would you just suffer silently if you were?). And, unlike Job’s, my story has no real comfort and wisdom to offer the masses as consolation, but instead I have the frustrations that come with wanting out-of-stock products that have no restock dates. “Look what you could have purchased but didn’t and now it may be gone forever but you can’t be sure!” screams Facebook and thus my mind.
It’s like the people that rule the internet are trying to foster a culture of covetousness and headbanging.
As an added trial, I’m sure my neighbors now love me, too; before I sat down with my plate of cupcakes and was crushed by the emptiness of my internet cart, I power washed part of the house and the patio. I presume, based on the night (Friday) and their beverages (wine), that they were just stepping out on their deck to enjoy the evening when I fired up the pressure washer. Yes, yes I am that socially oblivious neighbor
Hey, at least I power wash. They could be stuck with a neighbor who doesn’t, like they were for the last three years I lived here.
Finally and less tragically, last Sunday we came home to this creature standing on our deck. Usually his kind doesn’t get this close, so it was rather fascinating, but my first and only picture scared him away.
It’s just as well.
Do y’all have any preferred topics you’d like me to cover, in coffee talks or elsewhere? I know I owe you the conclusion of my prequel, so I’ll do my best to oblige, but if there are other things you want me to cover, drop me a line. I’d love to hear from you.:)