thanks for the memories

Thursday, April 26, 2018

And on and on it goes

I could say I am very busy, but that's a lie. I'm no more busy than I have ever been, perhaps even less.  I could say that the words have dried up but anyone who knows me or lives with me would know that wasn't at all true.  I think if I was cut open, along with the blood and garlic in my veins, the doctors would find whole sentences floating around in there.  No, if the truth were known my frequent silences are the result of an inner struggle between letting things out and trying to be invisible. 

Anyway, today I find myself inadvertently unoccupied by what usually fills my days, sewing.  My main sewing machine and the vast majority of some really important tools are currently stowed in the back of my daughter's car. The irony of this situation is that where she works is a comfortable mile walk from here but that walk would be most uncomfortable when encumbered by a sewing machine, sewing box, and bin of other sundries.

Boy do these ramblings sound self-centered and whiny! Here are a couple of today's earth shattering questions.  Why don't all the different ink tanks in my printer run low at the same rate?  The OCD in my doesn't like having to change one tank at a time.  Why don't men empty their pockets when they throw their pants in the laundry?  Can't they feel the weight of that wrench in there?

I have been washing tools, insects, toys, and sundry bits of hardware for many a year and it still shocks me what will come up in the washer after a load of laundry.  Actually the hardware, toys, and tools are not so bad it is the organic matter that really bothers me.  Soybeans, ladies beware of them!  Once they are dried and roasted they become little ticking time bombs of destruction.  They fit perfectly into the holes in the drum of the washer, soak up water, and plug things up.  If that isn't bad enough when they get left behind under the agitator the smell of them rotting is beyond noxious!  Shelled corn can be just as bad if it gets stuck down there.  Ask me how I know this stuff.  Stink bugs, garter snakes, and toads are even worse.  If any of these critters make it past the washer to the dryer, well my advice is to burn the whole load and go shopping!

Lets talk about being a grandma and having the little people over for a few days. Grandkids are like viruses, they get into everything, hang out there just waiting until you are vulnerable then they strike.  You would think that after raising six of my own I would be able to effectively child proof a house but they keep getting in here, stealing my heart and leaving their sticky little love notes all over the place.  Seriously though, this place is eerily quiet for a day of so after the kids go back home.  Perception is everything and having grandkids is the perfect way to figure that out.  When I am home alone this place is huge! I cannot find anything because of the sheer size of the house and the number of places where things, like my glasses, can hide.  When the kids are here the house feels like it is made of wool and has been washed in hot water and mistakenly put in the dryer...it shrinks! While they are here I cannot find anything, like my glasses, because of the infinite number of places that sticky little fingers can move them to. 

I may often sound like I am complaining about the little buggers but for 30 some years my person and life were totally defined by the small people clinging to my skirts.  Now that they have all successfully launched themselves into the realm of adulthood it is very difficult to find a new definition for who and what I am.  When the grands come it is like slipping on a comfortable pair of jeans and a warm hoodie, I am the nose wiper, tear dryer, hug giver, and confidence listener.  Those are things that I know well.