I wonder…if there will ever be a time when I have fewer than three knitting projects on needles at the same time. Or fewer than three hobbies in simultaneous play, for that matter.
I wonder, if I actually did force my Denizens to eat only what is in season or what was preserved while in season…would they appreciate strawberry jelly more? Because dudes, the strawberry season is about over and I did not lay down even one (1) pathetic half-pint of the stuff. They'd be out in a month and whining for eight more before the very first berries of the season appeared.
I wonder if my mother is lying to me when she says, “No, you were just as awful about banging on the door every eight seconds when you were little,” because in my memory, my brother and I would never, no NEVER, have been the constant source of distraction, noise and request-for-less-of-same-ignoring that my Denizens are on a daily basis.
…of course, when it comes to my Denizens, the problem isn’t so much that they individually are so awful – it’s the sheer volume that gets to me. Individually, they’ll go away for a good hour when told to scram!, but there’s always three more with new crises to announce.
I wonder if there will ever be a time when I do not have laundry piled up on my grandmother’s beautiful, too-fancy-for-this-house dining room table. I swear, I put the stuff away…and yet the next morning holy crap!, there’s more!!
Speaking of laundry, I wonder if Captain Adventure will ever be potty trained.
Also, I wonder why $DEITY has to be so cotton-pickin’ mean. “Well,” I said, long long ago. “Whatever we decide to do, I have to have the last kid before I turn 38. Because I don’t wanna be forty and still! changing! diapers!!”
Ha. Ha. Ha. OK, yeah, good one, $DEITY…now please, the kid just turned five, can we have some potty usage from him now?
Speaking of potty, I wonder which of those girls is the one who keeps using the thing and not flushing when she really. should.
Also, I wonder which one of them still keeps using the cardboard from the empty toilet roll, even though it has ended in disaster every.single.time. Besides, that just can’t feel good or work properly, you know? Seriously.
I wonder how it is that I read faster than most people I know, and still can’t keep up with my bloglines…and yet if I’m shirking my duties, I find myself constantly hitting “refresh” hoping someone has said something…
I wonder if I’ll get any time to work on all those simultaneous projects next week. It would be nice to reclaim some of those needles. Oh, and having finished socks and vests and sweaters and scarves and gloves and…well, you get the idea…
I wonder if I’ll get one last chance at that strawberry jam this year…one last farmer’s market booth with one last flat of ripe but not rotting berries for me…a lady at WalMart (grrrr…WalMart, how I despise ye…and yet, the low-low prices on Mason jars, they summon me to you…) watched me loading another dozen pint jars into my cart and asked, “Oh, are you doing some canning? That’s practically a lost art…”
And I thought to myself that my whole life sometimes feels like something out of the annals of Lost Arts. I play a Celtic harp and tell the old myths and stories to my children, with great seriousness, as though I am handing down great and sacred Truths that must be preserved. I bake our bread from scratch and haven’t bought potato chips in I don’t know how long. I spin and knit and am slowly learning to weave (although at the moment I’m playing with barely-warped projects because of the difficulty involved in getting Uninterrupted Time around here – I don’t know how vital it really is yet, but the books all say things like “turn off your phone and ensure that you will not be disturbed until you have finished dressing the loom” and as a novice, I don’t care to argue with them and say, “Naw, I’ll be able to figure out where all those ends go, easy!!”).
I mean, thank Dog we have cable and the Internet. We’re at least that normal…although we still don’t have a Wii or a Playstation or a Game Cube or, uh, whatever-all else has come along since the Atari.
I wonder if I’ll actually get a full night’s sleep tonight. Just once, it would be nice.
But it can’t happen if I’m sitting here.
Good night, Blog-o-Sphere. Good night, sleep tight, sweet dreams…I’ll see you in the morning.
It was such an unusual cold
3 months ago
Well, the good news for you is that you can take weeks to dress your loom. I do mine in little bits. If I waited for hours of uninterrupted time, I'd never get to it.
So's you know, my ASD son was potty trained at 6. It'll happen,eventually! Persevere! (But don't perseverate! Sorry. Autism Spectrum humor)
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