Falling in the General Direction of Up

My random spring happiness has me frolicking like those little baby goats or lambs . Figuratively speaking of course. At my age, frolicking could aggravate my sciatica or make me pee unexpectedly.  I have finally woken up to a sunny day (that threatens to stay for   all  of the daytime hours). It has also arrived without chilly (Alaskan front) winds that rob your sunny day of all its joy.  The Boy - the Beau - the Ball Cap (should we just call him B3 from here on out? Let's try it.) is in a golf tournament this weekend. Hillbilly Classic. Where do they get these names. He's happy to be a) out on the greens, b) wearing his new treasure (the new Second Skin golf jacket he found at Value Village for 14.99! Which, to be honest I was like - "Oh, that green looks nice on you" - but otherwise was underwhelmed with the significance of this purchase.), c) partnered with an ex-golf pro and d) making some money off this tournament.  So yeah - a day to myself ...

I've been having these messy skirmishes in my head of late. One of them is about what I should write about in my blog. I want to uplift. I like making people laugh. I want to perpetrate joy and compassion in what I communicate. But then good old Ernest starts nagging me. "Write hard and clear about what hurts"  - Hemingway.   But Ernie - people are going to read this. People are going to judge this. And the fear invades like a hoard of locusts, gnawing, attempting to decimate my confidence and esteem. Writing about what hurts means exposing the most vulnerable part of me. Being known - what freedom!  Being known - terrifying!  I've had this uneasy relationship with fear my entire life. It held court for way too many years. It made all my decisions for me. And one fear would perpetrate five others. It is a massive foe - one you can never trust to retreat for long. No matter how many times you defeat it - face it - vanquish it - it never dies.  I...

I just aggressively turned off the television. And as I hit that button hard, I wondered, is this a sign I'm getting old? (Shut up you people who know how old I am and are yelling at me:  YES!! YOU'RE OLD!! DEAL WITH IT!!)  Ahem. As I was saying... I'm not a fan of TV much. I used to be, but I have to say there isn't much to watch on it anymore. Hundreds of channels, that don't come cheap, and it's hard to find anything worth my time to spend an entire hour watching. And when you do find something you deem worthy, you are assaulted by the commercials. And frankly, that's where they lose me. The commercials these days (see, that right there - when you use the phrase "these days" or "back in my day" you have crossed a threshold) are either so inane, annoying, or repetitive that I literally say "it's not worth sitting through this!" and shut off the television.  This was the case tonight.  Hello Netflix.  H...

I just drove home from an extra long day at work, the 'Change Engine Oil Soon' message on my car's console nagging me every time I start the engine.  And I silently reply, "Yeah yeah. Soon, soon, soon". The boy - the Beau - the Ball Cap is having a beer and catching something to eat with a buddy prior to his curling game tonight so I picked up a $5 Chicken Alfredo flatbread pizza from Thrifty's for a quick "it's all about me" dinner. On the drive home, a friend texted me news of her new neighbour and lets just say - Ugh! That's going to be awkward. I came straight in the house and started the oven to heat up, poured a glass of wine, turned on the gas fireplace and plopped down in the chair next to it - eager for the heat to warm up my icy fingers and toes.  And all the while I was racing home I thought - I need to write. Something. There are myriad of thoughts pinging around in my brain and I felt the need to EXPRESS something. To someo...