Sunday Mornings

I like Sunday mornings. I like the lazy, don't have to be anywhere, don't have to do anything feeling on Sunday mornings.

My sweetheart does NOT sleep in. He likes to get up and get going. However, he has learned enough about me to know that I like sleeping late. Especially since my weekday alarm clock goes off at 5:50a.m. so I can be at work by 7. It's a treasure to get to sleep until I wake up naturally -- until my body says, "Okay, that's enough." On Saturdays and Sundays, my first words are not, "I don't want to go to work today," like they are they other five days of the week. On weekends, my first words are mumbles as I smile to myself knowing I can go back to sleep.

I've had near arguments with people who get very self-righteous about getting up in the morning. Gung-Ho! Time's a-wasting! The early bird gets the worm! A sunrise is a beautiful thing! Don't waste your day in bed! Get up! Get going! Fine. I don't need a worm - the early bird can HAVE the worm. Leave me alone, I'm going back to bed.

Whether or not I sleep is another discussion altogether. It's a delicious feeling in my comfy bed: nice clean sheets & blankets to wrap up in, my bookshelf beside me filled with favorite books and covered with various crochet threads and yarns, projects in process, photographs and drawings. The window is open just behind the headboard, sometimes the birds and beasties outside are so loud it's like a jungle. I get breezes and green outdoor smells, sometimes the crisp, cool rain smell. When it's hot, my ceiling fan keeps air stirring. My bed is without question my favorite place. It's where I spend my non-working hours, where I watch TV and movies, read, cry, think, indulge my passions. I like sharing my bed, having someone to talk to and play with there. Everything I need is nearby me there.

Sunday mornings are best. My sweetheart goes to his church, and I'm free to do anything I like. Sleep til noon. Watch a movie I know he wouldn't like. Read. Search through my crochet books for my next project pattern (neverminding the in-process litter around me). Lie there and think. Think about things I want to do or things I have done - some make me smile, some bring guilt and shame and heartache. Think about books I've read or movies I've seen and how they made me feel. Think "what if" - what if Anna were still here, where would she be, what would she be doing? what if I could travel, where would I go? what if I didn't live paycheck to paycheck, what would I do?

Before I know it, my Sunday morning is gone - my alarm set for early Monday morning - only a few hours of my-time left.

Go slowly Sunday mornings, please go slowly.

Another day

I just finished reading Still Alice by Lisa Genova. I still have tears in my eyes. The fictional story is of Alice, a woman just turned 50, a Harvard professor of psychology and linguistics, a wife and mother of 3 grown children, and her diagnosis with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. Heart-breaking. Absolutely heart-breaking. And the most terrifying novel I've ever read - because I kept saying, "That could be me." You've gotta read this book.

My tears are closer to the surface than usual lately. You'd think I would learn that the weeks between Mothers Day and Anna's birthday are horrible for me. For some reason, this morning I launched into a long monologue directed at Chuck of some of my blurry memories of the days and weeks just after Anna left us. I had to keep saying, "I barely remember this..." and "I was in a fog when this happened..." Those first days and weeks are hazy, at best. I suppose that's a good thing, because if those days were in focus, if they were sharper or clearer, I would lend more importance to them. As they are, I tend to dismiss the memories of those days as pain-filled, dark gray hours I endured.

I remember Ashley feeding me chicken salad sandwiches. I remember looking to Ramona and Cindy for direction. I remember standing on the carport smoking a lot. (I miss smoking!) I remember people I know coming to visit - one at a time in my head, not as a group. I remember my mom and dad being there, my sister - everybody trying not to lose control for fear of causing an avalanche of emotion. As if it could be held back by force of will.

At any rate, Anna's 21st birthday is next Monday. I want to mark the day in some special way, and I open suggestions. Anyone wanting to take me on a cruise is encouraged to contact me ASAP!

Did I write that line?

I'm reading Dean Koontz' "Odd Hours." This is the fourth in a series about a young man with unusual, although not always helpful, qualities. Here's a sentence that jumped out of the book, smacked me upside my head.

"Since the bullet-shattered day in which she died, I have lived a life I don't need."

And if you're on Facebook, you may (or may not) have seen this same entry on my Facebook page. I don't really get Facebook - who cares what I'm doing moment-by-moment of the day? Nobody. And Twitter seems even more useless - I've heard it described as an "instant message community." Okay. No thanks. What do I need with that? I suppose I am here in blogland, because this is how my brain works - spewing stream of consciousness commentary on a world that probably just doesn't give a damn. Okay - fine. I don't care if you read or not. But if you do - this is what I think. I enjoy the idea of leaving my "dear diary" open to today's page when I feel like writing. I have enough voyeur in me to enjoy the idea of other's peeking in on me. So hello there. Or not.

Did I write that line for Koontz or what?

Volunteer Day - 2009

The company I work for allows us to take one day a year to volunteer - with pay. That's a nice thing.


This year I went with 3 friends from work to help the Danville Salvation Army lunch feeding program.

I think before this, the most people I had helped feed was maybe 20 or 30 at funerals, reunions - that kind of thing. Today, we prepared lunch for 100 and fed about 80. Our menu was meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, bread and cookies.



We started with twenty-five pounds of hamburger, 3 green peppers, a bag of onions, a loaf of bread plus some rolls, etc. etc. etc!!!!! WOW!












Marsha, Lilly, Debbie & I did as we were told, mixing and stirring, then plating and serving, then cleaning up.


My fella has been volunteering at the Salvation Army for a while, so he made sure we didn't screw up too bad. We all ended up having a great fun day - we felt like we did something worthwhile that helped people who needed it.












We worked "harder" (more physically) than we do every day at our computer desk jobs - and our hearts were happier at the end of the day.




P.S. Don't get the idea that I need a mop bucket or anything for a birthday present! (Been there, done that - had the temper tantrum!).

ZooDay

Saturday, my fella & I took Elisha to the NC Zoo at Asheboro. It was a nice, overcast day - good zoo weather. Their website says "no food or drinks allowed into the zoo." That's not true. We SHOULD have taken water and snacks in - AND we should have taken the stroller for Elisha. Jessica said, "He did fine in Disney" so we wouldn't need the stroller. Well - at Disney, there's lots of stuff to stop and do - you don't just walk and walk and walk - see a zebra - walk and walk and walk - there's a lion - walk and walk and walk. Poor Elisha probably feels like I drug him through the zoo! But we had fun seeing all the "relatives" (my parents always said "There's some of YOUR family!" at the baboons, elephants, etc.).

We figured out how Elisha got "hatched"!!

And everyone loves a nice cool shower!

Most of the animals had my idea of a great Saturday --- NAP!!!

All in all, we had a good day. It was fun spending the day with each other. But I don't need to go to the zoo anytime soon again. Next time: SNACK & STROLLER! (for me!

Preschool Graduation 5/8/09

Elisha has graduated preschool. Quite the milestone. We were all so very proud of him - so handsome in cap and gown - so sweet with ready hugs for all his admirers who love him so.