I Meant To…Honestly

I meant to get a head start on marking today. Honestly, I did.  But the four-footed one wanted to go for a longer walk today.  And there were so many paw prints to sniff (the four-footed one did the sniffing, not I).

I meant to get lunches made in advance, but when I came home there was a huge pile of marking sitting there, silently judging me and making me feel guilty.  I know, I had meant to do it earlier but the four-footed on prevented that from happening.

I meant to not rush out of the house like a bat heading out a dusk for a good feed. But I had to make lunches because I didn’t get them made in advance.  I didn’t get them made in advance because there was marking to do.  Marking which I had meant to do earlier, but the four-footed one required attention and a walk.

I meant to do a lot of things, I really did.  But life got in the way. Some of it was good, and some of it wasn’t all that great, but I had intentions.   I just missed on the follow through. Or is it that one carefully placed domino got knocked down and all that I had meant to get done failed to be done.  And all that I meant to do now sits there, above me, making me feel less somehow.  I have failed, I am a failure.  I am guilty of not following through.  But I wouldn’t change it, not for a moment. Because time with the four-footed one is so precious, and she is so curious.  Who am I to curb that curiosity or deny her simple pleasures?  Who am I to put unfair restrictions on her need to roam and explore?  And who am I to tell myself I’m a failure simply because I missed something?

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Invitation Seasons And Lupus

A friend told me she has several  wedding invitations already for late spring and summer.  Another friend shared that she has a few requests for cabin/lake time as well as beach time.  Beloved also has received invitations for various outings for spring and summer, and like most people he won’t be able to attend all of them so he will have to make choices.

There was a time in my life when I had all these invites as well, however having to miss so many things due to health issues and such the invitations slowly die out.  I don’t blame people for this, I mean at some point you get tired of a certain someone cancelling on you last-minute.  No matter how understanding you are, it gets tiresome.  I understand that.

The thing is, being the person who is always cancelling at the last-minute I also find these last-minute cancellations to be tiring.  I’m tired of not knowing until the very last moment if I will be able to attend a gathering.  Sometimes I lose the energy while I’m getting ready, such as doing my hair or getting dressed.  Other times I wake up and just know I can’t make it.

But as I said, cancelling gets tiring to, as does the whole sense of being isolated.  So often  times I will push myself to go out and deal with the aftermath as needed.  Unfortunately that has meant being short-tempered, snarky and such with friends and loved ones; pain never brings out the best of me.

On one hand it would be better to just stay away from anything that requires an invitation and such for both my sanity and those I care about.  On the other hand no one wants to be ignored.  Except when there are a million wedding and party invitations during the beautiful days of spring and summer!

Dying Of Embarassment On The Road To Hell’s Intentions

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say. I’ve personally never been on the road to hell, not even the one in Michigan so I can’t say for sure what the pavement is made of or even what it’s like.

Of course people also say they about died from embarrassment and I can assure you, I’ve been more than a tad embarrassed and never actually died from it. I may have wanted to die, or at least have the earth open up a hole to I could fall into it and then have the earth just close back over again.

I had intended to walk the entire distance of the path today. I knew I wanted to walk it the minute my friend told me about its existence. Taking a page from Beloved’s book, I started to check the forecast to ensure I would have optimum weather for the day I went down the path. Today, according to the weather experts, was supposed to be the most ideal day of the week for the trip.

With a soft, warm glow to the morning sky, I made my way to the entrance of the park where the path begins. I brought with me just a light sweater to deal with the early morning coolness; I packed water and made sure I was wearing my walking shoes. I stuck my phone in my pocket and chose to listen to the birds singing in the distance as I started down the path. It was, in fact, a very peaceful and relaxing atmosphere.

Not even halfway down the path the sun dipped behind a cloud and the wind picked up a bit. I was grateful to have brought my sweater with me. To be honest I was feeling a bit smug about remembering to bring my sweater. The problem with feeling smug is that there is always something to bring you back to your humble senses. In my case it was an incredible downpour. From out of nowhere or so it seemed.

In less than a minute I was soaked and cold, no longer interested in walking the rest of the way. I just wanted to go home, get dried off and warm up with a nice drink. Naturally I turned to head back the way I came. And just as naturally my good walking shoes found a nice muddy puddle to go into. It was the kind of puddle that resulted in muddy water going more than half the way up my legs. And the rain didn’t seem to be doing a good job of removing the mud from my pants or shoes.

As luck would have it, or at least as luck goes in my world, when I got to where I parked, the sun was back out and shining as if nothing had happened. Except I was soaked, filthy and cold and there were more people in the parking lot preparing to go for a walk in their nice clean clothes, suitable footwear and water-repellent coats in hand.

No the earth did not open up to swallow me, I was probably too dirty. And yes I did want to die or at least hide right then especially because where I had parked meant I had to go past everyone looking like a disheveled drowned rat with squishy shoes.

Plans, Good Intentions And A Certain Someone, Or So It Goes

Today was one of those filled with great intentions and plans.  The kind of day where despite intentions and plans nothing went as hoped for.  Surprisingly is time it wasn’t due to Murphy’s Law.  Instead it was due to a person.  And for the record the person is not named Murphy, not even close to Murphy!

It started with the plan to make a lovely latte for Beloved and myself to go with our breakfast.  I was up a little early to make the lattes only to hear Beloved announce he didn’t want coffee today.  He explained he would be drinking lots of coffee while he was out in the morning later on.  So there went surprise one.

Whole he was out of the house I decided to make him a surprise for lunch.  So I got to work making the surprise so it would be just the right temperature when he came home for lunch.  He phoned and said he was on his way home, but he had added a twist to things by saying he was taking me out for a wee lunch.  So out we went for lunch.  I told him on our way home what I had planned for his lunch and he said he just had a feeling we should go out so that’s why he suggested it.

He said we could have the lunch for another meal, which was fine because what I had planned for our later meal, I no longer wanted after our lunch out.  So every little thing I had intended to do for Beloved today went sidewise or pear-shaped, but in a good way.  Because sometimes you just have to roll with the changes.

Cooking Exchange

About this time of year my mother would get down to planning her serious baking,  from breads to pies and cakes to cookies, she would create her list.  And then it was all about the shopping for ingredients and what had to be made last-minute versus what could keep perfectly on the counter or in the freezer.  The kitchen would start to smell wonderful, but it would be filled with the sound of “not yet”, or “wait” as my small hands would try to sneak a taste of this or that.

My kitchen, this time of year, is full of big intentions and recipes laid out.  THe intentions for the most part stay exactly as that…just intentions.  I run out of motivation, time or courage to cook these things.  I begin to remind myself there is no family for me to cook for, I don’t know where I will be and food doesn’t travel well so why bother.  And each year I vow the next year will be different.  There will be cookie exchanges and get togethers with friends and such.  And each year, it’s the same vow without much change.

So today I pulled out the recipes, and decided rather than have intentions of making them, I should try instead to share them.  That’s more or less what I can do and not have to lose motivation or courage.  So this year I will send out hand written/printed recipes to friends and share the cookies that way! Each person will get a recipe chosen just for them.  Well other than Beloved, who will get a list of recipes that we can make together!

Poo-Poo To Planning

Why is it that when you plan for things to be relaxed and laid back, all the preparation for that to happen seems so intense? Or other people feel a burning urge to help you ensure that everything will be laid back or relaxed. But the only way they can help you reach that goal is to first of all give you a whole armload of things that need to be done PRIOR to you relaxing?

I’m perfectly okay knowing that when I’m back from my break I will have a million things to catch up on and finalize and all of that. But apparently the very “in control” type of people require that all the work is FINISHED before you relax. Perhaps its fear that if you don’t do it in advance you will be too relaxed when you come back to understand the urgency of things.

I really just wanted a few days to enjoy some down time prior to school starting up into full swing. Keep in mind that this is what I wanted. Not what happened. Not what was planned. Because you see what happened is that I foolishly mentioned to some people, a handful of people whom I thought I liked, what my plans were. These people, who again I thought were like-minded, decided that some of the things we’d be working on AFTER the relaxation period should probably be addressed prior to my down time. Just in case things got a bit deeper than anticipated, that way we’d have a buffer of time if need be. Notice that this just occurred to these people after I said I was going to be missing for a short period of time.

So what really happened was an insane amount of scheduling and rescheduling as well as assigning actions to people for things to be done in an impossibly short period of time. This was followed by a meeting. A meeting where a lot of the people admitted they had not completed their assigned actions. Where other people completed part of their assigned actions, but only half-heartedly because we have lots of time don’t you know. A meeting where I finally spoke my truth and told everyone that I was less than impressed with them pushing things ahead because they were afraid I would be too relaxed. A meeting where some even else honestly said they felt more stressed since he meeting when the idea for the meeting was to have people less stressed.

Perhaps the trick is to do things just in time. Such as let people know just in time that you will be away for a little bit. Don’t give them too much notice as that will create issues. Or perhaps don’t plan for anything until it’s time to do whatever it is you will be doing or not doing…

The Garden That Wasn’t

I bravely went to the store and bought some herbs to plant in the garden.  Rosemary, basil, oregano, thyme, parsley, and dill all came home with me.  Well technically they were paid for first and then I brought them home with high hopes of putting them in my garden.

But I didn’t want to plant in a torrential downpour.  Although I guess I could let the pounding rain dig the holes for me.  But then all the soil would wash away.  I’d have clean herbs of course.  Beaten by the rain, planted in mud pits and now waterlogged.  But clean nonetheless.

So I put the little pots in my window and promptly forgot I was going to put them n the garden.  And surprise surprise, they seem to be doing well in my window.  Better in my window then when I have planted herbs in the dirt. In the earth, which is where I thought they wanted to be.  Obviously the soil is wrong here.

They like the soil in their little pots.  And apparently they aren’t fans of the weather outside.  They seem to like indoor weather much better than the normal outdoor stuff.  So I think I will keep them inside.  It’s not just that they enjoy it, but it makes it much handier when I’m cooking because they are right there.  It might be a bit too easy, given that I am now tossing herbs here there and everywhere.  But my taste-buds are tingling with new tastes!