One Month...

It's hard to believe it's only a month til Christmas. Thanksgiving was just a few days ago, and yet it doesn't quite seem like much of a holiday season yet. Thanksgiving was a quiet day here, with plans for the big turkey day postponed until today, and then again postponed til next year.

The turkey got a reprieve and continued on in it's cold storage until a near future date when it will make it's appearance with promises of leftover bits for days. I didn't mourn the turkey deficit as much as the flakey deletctable pies that never materialized. It's the one time of year that pies seem to be in abundance, and as I read blog after blog of people and their pies, I had the smallest twinges of pie envy.

I missed the pumpkin, the pecan, the chocolate and coconut cream. I missed the big dollops of Cool Whip or ice cream topping those calorie laden bits of flakey goodness. But I will get thru these next few days of pieless-ness and will concentrate on the upcoming Christmas season instead.

I didn't hit the stores on turkey day. I didn't hit them on the much touted Black Friday. I did however sneak out a bit this morning and just as quietly headed back home with just the smallest of purchases with promises to myself to finish the holiday shopping later this week, or next, or whenever.

I am not going to panic this year. I have a few things bought and if I run out of time or energy it will suffice. I am trying not to go crazy like I do some years and spoil people rotten. They are rotten enough and my continued efforts to spoil them even more seem futile and wasteful.

I need to prioritize just what is important and what needs my attention the most. I need to do some holiday baking for the neighbors that I do year after year. I tell myself every year after all of the mess and hassle it will be the last, but a part of me sticks to tradition, and a part of me hates the thought of disappointing anyone with just an impersonal gift card. It's the one part of the holiday that I still think should be at least more than just a desperate guess or spin of the wheel of gift possibilities. It's just hard to buy for some people and it's hard to put a price on the goodness and value of friendship and neighborly courtesy to those nearest to you.

So I bake, and stir, and assemble those sugar laden plates to say thanks. Whether they are truly appreciated, I don't really know. I think they are, but sometimes I wonder when I hear others say, "I don't bake or cook because I don't need it". Seriously, do any of us really NEED it? Nope, but I do think that a little bit of decadence given to others and to ourselves is a good thing.

That said, I am sort of glad to have missed out on turkey day. I can now hoarde all of those future caloric possibilities in the form of fudge, toffee, and that midwestern favorite - cherry mash. It's the thoughts of all of those confections that also makes me think it would be a good time to diet to prevent those thoughts of justification, "it's Christmas mentality" that allows me to sneak another piece of fudge, and another, and another until I am quite sick at the mere sight of anything sugary.

Christmas and holidays are such odd times. The are laden with expectations, stress, and guilt and yet we embrace them with such a fervor. I am hoping that this year if I lower my expectations, cut down on the stress, and try not to be so hard on myself, that the holiday season will be a better experience, at least for me.

So hear is to the upcoming holiday. Bring it on. I have girded myself with reality and common sense and unless I take some sort of direct blow of a super sale with 75% percent off, I think I will make it.
If not, I will stay huddled underneath the tree and refuse to come out until after the 1st of next year.

Relief...

Well it's over. Or at least, I hope it is all over. The junk mail, the unsolicited phone calls, the commercials, and all of the controversy of the latest political election.

Some are claiming victory, some are claiming a crushing defeat. I see it as inevitable with whoever was elected. I wasn't happy with either candidate and the amount of damage possible on both sides gives one thought and concern and the realization that we are just screwed no matter which way the ballot was cast.

It's scary when one delves into the background of each individual, follow the money trail of just who their backers were/are, and it's frightening to realize that anything and everything has a price.

Who the big winners of the last election were, are not the American people but big business. Big business has their hand in every politician's pocket and we can only hope as we go forward that we do not completely bankrupt this country literally and figuratively.

But that is enough of politics. I am tired of politics. I am tired of seeing friend versus friend, family member pitted against family member. I am tired of a false sense of belonging to a political party of any sort that really doesn't have your best interest at heart. I guess I hold those who are elected to a certain standard. Not a higher standard, but a standard in which they are their to serve the people and not their own interests.

Today is Wednesay, a cool day, but a sunny one. I have been a bit crabby the last few days and today I am of the mindset to shed my crabbiness and embrace something more sunny. I am not going to let any perceived slights or negativity to entertain any of my thoughts today. I am going shopping. I am going to think of Christmas, Thanksgiving, and all things chocolate covered.

Today I vote for me. A party of my own making. No donkeys or elephants for me, I will embrace being one of many sheep in this flock of red,white, and blue...

Grey and Blue and Other Shades in Between





 

 

I shouldn't really be blogging today. It's not that I really have a whole lot to say, but rather that I wanted to stay in the habit of at least writing something once a week. I get in a rut at times and before I know it, weeks have passed and I have failed to sit down and actually try and compose something. What is the point of blogging when a person doesn't even write?

 

Today started out with blue skies and a grey mood and it gradually graduated thru the day to greying skies and a darkening grey mood. I hate days that are like that.

 

You would think with the extra hour of sleep because of the time change, and being a Sunday that I would have relished sleeping in, and I would have if it weren't for the excessive scratching of a cat that continually lives up to her namesake of being a stink pot.

 

She has developed an annoying habit of scratching when she wants something. It started out innocently enough when she was a small kitchen. She would scratch a closed door, wanting to see what was on the other side. She would keep it up til I had to open the door or risk splintering wood work. She started scratching on the wall near her food bowl when it was empty. She would scratch, glance back to look at me, and then continue her scratching ways until tended too. I don't know how to break her of this habit either. At first I thought it was rather cute and funny that somehow thru a wierd Pavlovian experiment I had become the trainee instead of the trainer. It's not so funny any more, especially at 4:30 in the a.m.

 

It seemed to set the precedent for the whole day. Little things that irritate or got under my skin seemed to be excessively encroaching upon my day. I even found myself reading and commenting on some blogs on another page that had me wondering if my reply or comment was too curt, too limited as to appear blase` or flippant.

 

I have to admit that as my afternoon has gone on, I was ready to throw in the towel when logging on here and being told that google plus wasn't happy with my profile. I sounded fake and hollow and that nobody in their right mind would want to google or search for me on their ever expanding website. I realize just writing this crabby comment that I might even end up suspended, shut off and told to move my whiney butt off to somewhere else. I feel like I am about done some days with all of this blogging stuff.

 

A huge part of me wonders why in the world can't I just write and think out loud and be left to type my rambling words and what does it matter that I haven't given a searchable name for people to find me in my tiny rural area. That people might want to stop by, share a cup of coffee, and maybe stalk me for a short while before stabbing that knife in my chest while I incoherently whisper, "but it's just a blog for goodness sakes"... Okay I am being sooo overly dramatic and babyish, but I don't care.

 

That is what blogs are suppose to be about. You are suppose to be able to write your opinions and thoughts and have people read those words and comment on if they want. It's not about whether they agree with what you are saying or disagree or anything in between. It's about having a voice, just one voice, even if it's just inside my head and wanting to get out.

 

It's not like it's politics. It's not like who I am telling you to vote or not to vote for. I don't support either candidate, I think they both suck and I am not about to tell someone on who or what they can believe in.

 

I guess politics find their way into everything though and that includes blog sites. There are the liberal fun sites with games and the more serious, how dare do you mock our searchable profile list of other sites.

 

I realize that they are wanting to prevent spam, to prevent any sort of problems or backlash or complaints from others, I get that. But there is no way in heck (see I can self edit), that I am going to give out my real name. How in the world will I ever be able to complain about Aunt Bertha's disgusting holiday casserole, or the bi-polar ex-sister-in-law that keeps going off the deep end? How do I keep from stepping on toes, offending those who see themselves or THINK they see themselves in my free flowing words?

 

It's a fine line this blogging stuff. I don't want to have a blog where stuff is copied and pasted or where I come across as some sort of imaginary expert in some field that will have you all agog at my extensive wealth of bs.

 

Maybe I am expecting too much from this blogging stuff. That thinking out loud and posting those thoughts is taboo. That kind of free thinking is not allowed and I need to be more of a conformist and limit my blogs to pics of home, family, garden, pets, trips, and be like the other thousands of blogs out there.

 

I want more. It's not that I want controversy and to be a pot stirrer or some sort of blogging rebel. I want to be able to write what I am thinking at this very moment, and in the next moment...and the next... without worrying that the neighbor down the street read my blog and is peeved because I called them the "noisy, has to keep up with the Joneses" kinda neighbor.

 

So yeah, I want some anonymity... I don't even know if I spelled that word right, but yeah, I want to be a blogger with some sort of dark spy glasses and a trench coat. Trust me, I won't flash anyone, it's way too cold and I am way too puritanical in some respects.

 

Maybe I should stop ranting. Maybe I should close the lid on the laptop and walk away for a bit. Maybe I should walk away from blogging from a bit and keep looking for a place that might not even exist.

 

I don't know. I do know that just this morning I was thinking, ya know, maybe I will pick this place over all of the others because it is more about blogging. There aren't the distractions of games and quizzes and poke buttons and all of those other goofy things that are fun at times and annoying at others.

 

I guess I have to wait and see. Wait for that confirmation that I am real and searchable and all of those other things that this blog site thinks I should be.

 

If they find me, I hope that they will let me know. I have been looking for the real me for years.

The Pontification of Me...

I had a bit of a giggle when typing the title for this blog. Having just started this new blog page and moving all my old blogs over here, few if any actually know that I have this new blog. Writing any sort of new blog entries has me feeling like I am actually just talking to myself. And for some even stranger reason, I sorta like it.

How weird is that? I think we all have varying degrees of weirdness about us, and what we may think of as strange or odd will seem perfectly normal to someone else.

The other day while out shopping, I was parked next to a guy in what looked to be a very new pick-up. The gentleman was elderly, most likely retired but what caught my eye was the way he walked. One of his arms appeared stiff, and then at the wrist the hand bent backwards at a sharp angle. It had me wondering if he had an injury, stroke, some sort of recent accident that caused the odd looking appearance of his arm and hand.

My curiosity was even further piqued when I saw him take the lid off a trash can and peer down into it's depths and reaching in to sift thru the garbage. Out his hand came with his prize of an aluminum can. He bent down again and had to insert his head and shoulders completely in the trash in order to reach the bottom. Out came two more cans. He took one aluminum can and placed it in his bent back hand, and carried the other cans with his other hand. As he walked, his stiff arm was stuck out in front of him. He walked back over and placed all of his cans in another trash receptacle in the back of his truck. He contined thru out the parking lot, walking to each trash can in front of each store til he had visited them all.

It had me more wondering just what was his story? Was he collecting cans to pay for his new vehicle? Was he collecting cans as a hobby? Had he always collected cans? Was he needing to find any resources possible because his financial situation had changed? Was he just frugal and not afraid to get a little dirty to collect a few cents?

It's hard to know what one's story is when all we see is just one side or facet to them. A bit like here on the internet. We only know a part of someone really. We never truly know their whole life story unless they decide to share it with us. Even then, a part of us may be hesitant to believe everything one is told on here. There are those who embellish, there are those who put up a facade, and those who just want to show one side of theirselves.

I can be guilty of that sometimes. I want to log in every day and just be the fun girl without any problems or worries. I want to be silly and amused and not think so hard some days. I want to be able to seperate myself from myself, sort of like this blog I write. It is just a part of me that comes out when I sit facing this keyboard.

It's my story, it's me, and it's okay if I am the only one who can hear my inner voice that types these words from time to time. Maybe it's a bit selfish of me, maybe it's just self preservation, or maybe it is just the pontification of me....