The delightful things I see on the mental teevee screen sometimes make it to actual teevee.
The crazy things you loved as a kid may not have been greasy kid stuff.
I’m at yoga class, so you get Johnny and his old friend John.
I had to watch this twice to see the cat.
“Dude, you are blocking my sunbeam. Desist!”
I feel quiet. Here, listen to Johnny:
About a week ago, a whole lot of small, annoying setbacks finally kicked my ass. This afternoon, things started to come back together. The hurricane weekend suits me. I’m tired and can hardly wait for a peaceful Sunday inside my house. You, however, get some Johnny in the sunshine.
My home computerizing device has again tried to go to Heaven, and by Heaven, I mean the Edgeboro Garbage Dump. Yes, I know garbage isn’t supposed to go into the dump anymore. No, I wasn’t going to give someone else the satisfaction of winging it like a broken frisbee into the smelly abyss: I wanted to fling it myself and derive all the cardio benefits one might from a tantrum. Last night, Pete reminded me that home computerizing device might have a reparable problem. I sat down and thought, Huh. Maybe I should repair that. I know! I was shocked too.
In any case: blogging may be interrupted briefly while I figure out how far patience gets me. In the meantime, Johnny’s got some questions for you.
We’re just back from the garden center, where we picked up seeds, seedlings, wire fencing and ferns. I’m giddy with oddly timed excitement. I mean, the reason we had a great time in the garden center – as opposed to a shitty, arguey, stabby-stabby time – is that it’s nighttime. Even the cashier seemed surprised to see us. At home again, we put nearly everything into the slipcover greenhouse for the night and put our feet up.
I’m not sure how to talk about this. Maybe you can help me find the words. I’m not disabled, but I have trouble getting around unless I don’t. Sometimes, I stand up and everything works fine, but most of the time, when I get out of the car or up from a chair, straightening up is going to take a minute and walking looks like I’ve never done it before. What are you gonna do? Anyway, I could barely walk in February so I took some time off from the food pantry. Today, I was walking into the family store and saw the food pantry’s administrator. She asked if I felt better. I was standing and walking, and considering myself lucky until that moment. So feeling pretty good made me a shitty human being. These are exciting problems!
Pete’s built a raised bed and raised it a second time. He’s fencing in open space about three feet all around it so I can sit on a stool and work in the bed. As we set this up, it is making me feel like I am about 80. Further, I am pretty sure the bed’s too low for me to comfortably work it. We’ll see. I can’t wait to plant broccoli. Tomorrow, we will lay out the grid and draw up a plan. The seed packets offer the promise of fragrant treasures. I’m not 100% sure my joints will allow it.
This is going to sound freaking unbelievable, but Pete and I just stumbled home from a PTO meeting, where we taught willing children and oblivious adults to separate garbage from compost while Disney movies blared at volumes that were no doubt turning our brains to Wheatena. I can barely lift an arm for my usual two-finger salute!