Musings

My mother-in-law, Jennifer, is something of an animal nut.  Those ducks right there?  They are in her back yard.  They were migrating and landed there.  She’s feeding them.  Now there are 28 of them.  All we get are the occasional raccoon or possum here in our backyard.  An owl maybe.  Lots of doves.

Meanwhile, I’m marching bravely on through my work.  I generally am not an overtime fan, and this weekend I’ll be missing some important creativity time, which is too bad, because I have a couple of projects on my mind, a painting and a couple of bags.  The painting seems like it’s going to stick around in my head, so that’s good.  I made about a dozen sketches for projects in my notebook last weekend, so whenever I get back to it I’ll be very busy.

Meanwhile, the elephant, dog, panda and cat proceed apace.  I decided to make 2 “good” creatures and three “rascals.”  At least that’s how the pattern bills them.  The elephant’s name is Wesley, the dog is Scooter Pup, while the panda is Roscoe (Newgate) Kidd and the two cats are Chaos and Calamity.

A crafting friend recently did herself an injury to her hand with a mandoline (yowwwza).  Given my predilection for injuring myself, I should not get that mandoline I was contemplating.  Although typically I burn myself instead of cutting myself, I don’t give myself good odds on the slicing.  Ever since I’ve been thinking about what would happen if I were to lose the use of one or both of my hands.  Or even a finger!  Oy vey.  Heck, I’ve had one spot on my shin that hurts from running, and I’ve turned useless and whiny.  A more serious injury, whew, well, I just feel for her.

Tonight - early bed.  I need it.

National Sibling Day (April 11)

So I learned that today is National Sibling Day - another made-up holiday, but I like this one because … well, my brother is my best friend in the whole world. He’s 14 months younger than I am. He is my earliest memory - I remember my mom showing him to me when he came home from the hospital. And we’re … not unalike, but not alike either.

My brother is very charismatic - if you met him, you’d get sucked into his vortex too.

The best way to explain my brother Jeremy is to show him in his usual guise in a photo. He’s usually doing something on a mountain. Snowboarding, hiking, biking, whatever… When I get emails from him, the signature line is “I fear flat planets.” He frowns upon heat. He showed me my first glacier. This photo is of Jeremy when he lived in New Zealand. He’s lived there, Tejas, Colorado, Vermont, Montana, Alaska and Washington. He’s always sending me pics of him on top of mountains.

I am remarkably proud of my little bro (who is almost a foot taller than I) for his dedication to living life without fear, and for his absolute loyalty to those he loves. He does whatever the hell he wants. He lives wherever he wants. He believes his own reasoning is good enough for anyone. He regularly hurtles himself down steep slopes but thinks the fear is fun, or at least interesting. He’s taught me a lot about how not to be afraid in life, about how to go for it and ask questions later. About how asking permission is a lot harder than getting forgiveness afterward. (Right, bro?) He’s taught me about what it means to believe in others and myself.

Jeremy is not organized (at all), and he’s forgetful. He does not own furniture nor is domestic in any way - really, he does not “own” anything or want to. He does not want to settle. He travels and learns and argues with people, and spends a hell of a lot of time working out (don’t get into a fight with him, he works out daily and has an … er, volatile temper).

Jeremy’s someone I look to when I find myself playing it safe instead of doing what I believe is right. He is proud of me for being a person I like, not for toeing the line. He thinks rocking the boat is probably better than accepting the status quo. Jeremy’s fearlessness is what I remember when I’m afraid to be me, or to state my true opinion. He reminds me that no matter what, I shouldn’t accept being passed over or ignored.

And if I don’t like where I am, I can always go forth and find a new and more interesting experience.

Train of thought

So … it’s 9:30 am Monday …

1) It’s the first day of vacation. Last week, after making half a dozen really stupid mistakes and realizing how much more irritable I was than I normally am, I said you know what? I need a break. Luckily, I have a kind boss, and thus here I am having a decompression week. I have no big plans, I have no bananas. I’m just having a 9-day weekend. Woo!

2) I love Sundays, because they result in sights like that over there –>. I love pancakes. This is the best pancake recipe ever. It’s from the Betty Crocker 195X cookbook. Classic. I’ve been making these pancakes since I was very young.

Oddly, I prefer Karo syrup. That’s right, plain old light corn syrup. I don’t know of anyone but my brother and I who like to eat pancakes with Karo.

<– several hours later –>

3) Whew. I totally forgot how irritating I can be. I realized about 1 pm that I’d inadvertently scheduled my entire vacation week into 2-hour increments. I say “inadvertently” because I really didn’t mean to have any schedule at all, this was supposed to be relaxation time. However, while I was running madly about the house accomplishing things today (seriously, isn’t this supposed to be a break?!) I realized I had very specific plans for each hour of my next 7 days.

OK, so I need to relax. Or perhaps, learn how to relax. I don’t seem to be very good at it. Boy can I schedule and plan, though. A week or so ago I emailed all of my coworkers with a document that was originally named “Schedule and Plan.” I have to laugh at myself sometimes. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be on the receiving end of my scheduling/planning/organizing/editing OCD issues, but I imagine it’s kind of like having a drill sergeant around. Fun!

You know what? I probably can imagine how it feels easily, because I do it to myself, too.

4) Whew again. Aside from cleaning and reorganizing my entire house today, I stopped for a bit and made dinner. It was the same slow cooker rosemary tenderloin with orzo I made over the holidays. This is the first time I’ve had a chance to make it since. I am hopeful. Others have made this from my recipe and it turned out well. I had meant to try it before now - when I post recipes, etc. I like to try it out to make sure I wasn’t smoking something when I wrote it. My cooking tends to be of the “throw stuff in until it seems okay” method, so writing down what I do? hahahaha riiiiiiight.

5) I’ll leave you with my kitten. She’ll be 7 months old in a week. I expected her to get bigger than she is, if only because her parents were bigger, but she’s still a shrimp. A fat shrimp. One would think with all the “leaping tall buildings in a single bound” she does every day, she wouldn’t be chubby, but she is. If only she was this sweet all the time … Maybe when she grows up? I do love those little tufts of fur between her toes, and I love that she’s ticklish :D. (Me=sucker for animals.)

Tomorrow will be more restful, right?