the bitch lied.
But I didn’t mean to so it doesn’t count. Not like when I tell the Jehovah Witnesses that I’m a practicing Catholic and to get the hell off my front porch. While I didn’t completely fall off the re-commitment wagon, I did fall. Last week was a trial. Beginning with backing the jeep out of the garage and clipping off the passenger side mirror. $140 boneheaded mistake. Then two days later while riding my bike I unexpectedly ran into (literally) a right lane closed sign. Now, maybe I’m just old fashioned but it seems to me that a “right lane closed sign” should be IN THE RIGHT LANE and not on the sidewalk. This, of course, took place at noon at the intersections of France, Lake Street, Hwy 7 and Minnetonka Boulevard. After being projectile vomited from the bike, I sat for a minute trying to figure out what the hell happened. A very cute gentleman rolled down his window to see if I was alright. I said I was and he asked “Are you sure?” As in “Are you sure you didn’t just break your hip.” I responded “yes, just feeling stupid.” Two days after the “incident” I decided to do a 10 mile run. Now, 10 miles for me is walk the first mile, run (plod) 8 and then stagger the last mile passing out when I hit the back door. Anyway, I’m running along, my mind wandering, and I start thing as to what the third kel-tastrophy is going to be. Not much later, I hit mile 4 and feeling pretty good, it’s not hot out, plenty of water, good music and I have to cross the street. So I see an opening to cross, look back over my shoulder, step into a pot hole that required me to have a passport, and went down like a rhino being shot in the jungle. Completely oblivious. So while I’m sitting there, stunned and bleeding, a nice couple drove up and rolled down their window to ask if I was alright. I said I was and they asked “Are you sure?” As in “poor thing, we should shoot her and put her out of her misery.” I responded “I’m sure, just feeling stupid.” Bleeding and stinging I decide to finish the run. As I pass Cedar I think I should at least soak my stinging hands and try to clean the blood off my knee, but it occurred to me that the way things were going, I’d probably end up with typhus or Ebola. So why I am thinking I should probably see a neurologist or get myself a plastic bubble, at least I am encouraged by the kindness of strangers. Too bad customer service doesn’t respond just as helpfully.
Meanwhile, on this episode of “Hoarders” – I’ve been up to my neck in paper. Books, photos, 20 years of work samples (why? nobody asks to see samples anymore, that’s what the web is for) and memories. Going through the kids things has been challenging. Love notes, cards, newspaper clippings and photos. I’d find a prom or Sadie’s photo and think, I remember him, I hated that kid or oh, I miss her. Between them there were at least 4 serious relationships, 48 dances, best friends and all the things that went with them. I had saved report cards, art projects, stuffed animals and they had saved ticket stubs, hockey pucks, baseballs and captain’s letters. Every school and team photo that the kids were on. Including: hockey, baseball, football, volleyball, softball, soccer and track – times 3 and every newspaper clipping where they were mentioned. If you played a sport with my kids, I have a photo of you.
As promised (didn’t lie) here are some photos of the most interesting stuff I found. What to keep or not has always difficult for me. As you can see, I still have my brownie manual from 1967. I wasn’t much of a brownie, or a girl scout for that matter, too many rules, but I can’t throw it out. Also, I found my mom’s name tag from my first day in Kindergarten at Robert Fulton Elementary (1963?), a little wood hockey stick that was my dad’s from when he played for the Gophers, my year books and a letter that I wrote to my grandparents, back in 1973. A friend, after my last blog, commented that maybe I was being to hard on myself. I thought sarcastically – “You don’t know me at all!” Ha. In this letter, I had written that I was returning the $10 check they had sent me because “I hadn’t really done anything worthy of $10.” What the hell? Apparently, this is a long term issue.
The Hippo Hat was a gift to Clay. As you can see, there was some kind of “incident” between the Hippo and Stella. Words were exchanged and the Hippo got the worst of it. The bow hat was Lenia’s shower bow bouquet from 3 years ago. This sat in the same spot on the dresser for 3 years. I know.
The winner of the oddest thing, is the Tweety Bird costume. I didn’t make this costume, this was Patsy’s handiwork. She has always been a better mother than me. As the best costume I ever made was to take a big box, cut head and armholes, cover with white contact paper and black dots. Lenia went as a Dice. It was a good costume, but as you can see, not Tweety.
So I dragged the kid’s “bins” out of the basement and added to the already collected items – their clippings and photos and love notes (which I did NOT read) and presidential fitness awards and packed them away again. Some day they will enjoy going through them and then THEY can decide what THEY want to keep. I clearly have enough problems doing that for myself.
For those of you that are interested in the “real work” and not my “family of origin” issues…I do have the new window and ordered the new door. They are being put in next week (not in time for Ash’s shower last Saturday) and the floors will get done at the end of the week. Also not in time for the party. We hired someone to do the window and door – a man needs to know his limitations – and frankly, the screw up potential for both of these projects are huge, and at the rate I’ve been going, probably dangerous.
next blog – hopefully more design and less disaster, but as you know I could be lying.
