This poor blog. What a sad state of affairs it’s in. The problem I’ve found with writing for the blog is that I am profoundly uninteresting unless I’m pissed off at something. And, since life has been pretty decent lately, I haven’t had much to yell about.
Well, nothing I can say in public, anyway. I have never had the power to successfully fictionalize the people in my life to the point where I can say what needs to be said without them knowing exactly whom I’m talking about. ALAS. Some stories will have to be told elsewhere.
So what’s the point of this blog, then? I haven’t got a subject that I am single-minded about. I don’t have a baby anymore, so I can’t really get down with the blogging about the utter dementedness of being a new parent, I’m not a foodie, and while I like beer well enough, I find that writing about it makes me hate it.
(Hmmm… maybe we can work with that)
The Jillian is now a third-grader, and I have her privacy to consider. She is the source of much amusement, but we’re at the point where it’s really up to her to decide what should and should not be “out there” for the world to see. I’d set her up with her own blog, but it would be nothing but Minecraft and Pokemon 24 hours a day.
Despite the tumbleweeds rolling through this domain, I have been writing. Most of it is utter drivel and will never see the light of day. I know I am my own worst critic, but some of this stuff is just crap. Maybe when I’m reeeeallly old or dead I will release that crap to the world and people can do what they want with it.
So… what, then? I guess we’ll figure it out as we go. As I approach my 40th birthday (I will be 40 years old but have only had 38 actual birthdays), I am feeling the need to establish some kind of routine with this. There are other factors behind this urge, but the age thing, whew. I’m about 99% okay with it.
Today is a Tuesday in April. We have just returned from a lovely weekend in Cleveland, where we stayed with our lovely friends in their lovely house, looking at the lovely lake. Had Easter dinner at Grandma’s, which was bittersweet, at best. Grandma is getting older and it’s starting to show. I worry. The family… I feel disconnected from them nowadays since I don’t live nearby and only see most of them once or twice a year. That’s the way of things with giant families, though. There are just too many of us. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss them.
We got home yesterday afternoon and Carl was SO HAPPY to see us. He usually hates all of us but when we got in the door he was there, rubbing on everyone’s legs and meowing for all he is worth. He has since calmed down a bit and has resumed his post in the front window, where he watches for birds and bunnies.
I picked up the dogs from doggie camp and after a brief period of everyone barking at everyone else, they have settled down into their weekday routine, which consists of sleeping. They’re happy to be home and I’m happy to have them because the house feels weird and empty without my mutts.
My brain is playing “Maybe I’m Amazed” on a loop in my head. I have long since given up trying to figure out where the songs come from or why my brain chooses them each morning. I do wonder if it’s my brain’s way of procrastinating, however. Like, I’m supposed to be thinking about something important, but the brain would rather sing along with Sir Paul, in the way that I get a LOT of knitting done when I’m supposed to be folding laundry.
Spring has finally arrived. That means I need to put out the hummingbird feeder, rake out the garden, and start fixing up the vegetable beds so they can be planted. I’m going to plant tomatoes again, but perhaps not quite so many as last year. Other than that, I’m not sure what else I want to put back there.
Speaking of, I need to sign up for the CSA again. That was a moderately successful experiment last year. It was nice to get things that I might not otherwise buy, but since we’re at the mercy of what the farm produces, we ended up with roughly eleventy billion apples. While I enjoy a good apple as much as the next person, that was just ridiculous. If I get over my aversion to canning (sooooo much effort for a relatively small reward), then maybe a full share would make sense, but even with a half share, I fear I will be covered in apples again come October.
What I really need is a CSA that sends me my bodyweight in strawberries for the two weeks they are in season, and then when tomatoes are at their peak, they would just back a truck up to the house and dump ’em. That would be worth the money.