I did not go to the famed Kralingse Bos yesterday. I was ready, even eager. But my brother corrected me; he’d suggested we go after I get my real shoes (and after I get an increase in meds) and would I PLEASE rethink it because it’s fabulous that I walked the day before and think I can walk even more the next day but could I get real for a minute and just CHILL?
Did I just zip off there somewhere?
Yes, yes I did.
My plans scaled down as fast as I’d like my waistline to slim. Cooler weather than forecast (weather forecasts HAVE to be the most optimistic things on the planet by definition) kept me near home. I fed the ducks. Still no George; he’s off with his lady friend or moved or I don’t know what. Haven’t seen him for a bit now. Without him, it’s just an okay experience. A plus one in fun. Used to be a plus ten, every time. I MISS that duck.
I came back home to four new shelves neatly hung in my room. Spent part of the day digging under my bed for a few of those tucked away cartons I haven’t seen for over a year. What’s in this again? Within five minutes the virginity of those new shelves was popped and STUFF came out to go on display. I have places for things again (silly of me, but the highest jazz factor is having a specific place for all my girly nail polish stuff). I found my 3D glasses for the cinema. I found my dart set. The charger for my toothbrush is now off the floor. My room looks cozy and inviting, not small and cramped. I like.
The house is officially dual language. Without saying anything about it to each other, my bro and I have just begun speaking in Dutch as much as possible. It helps that my brother has a better grasp of the language. When I tried to do it before he’d just get that look he gets, which is far too easy to misinterpret as anger (it isn’t; it’s frustration). Now he thinks for a minute, then I see that lightbulb go on in his brain, and he tries to answer me. Much, much better. I must remember to thank our teacher when I see him; my brother’s progress is completely due to his gentle guidance.
Today is Easter. Happy, happy, if you celebrate. To me it means I’ve been seeing bunnies and eggs for over a week. Even the dinner rolls come shaped as bunnies here. You can get butter and cheese and sandwich meat shaped as bunnies for real kitschy snacks. Now all that gets phased out. Maybe somewhere there’s a mass grave for bunny shaped food; I don’t know. I do know that as of tomorrow morning it will be out of the stores.
Not that I’ve been tempted. The goodies this season didn’t hold much fascination for me.
Because I made my own.
Ach, okay. It was my brother’s birthday during the week. He said don’t make a big deal, so I didn’t. Kept it low key. But I did bake up a treat for him. He’s been on a banana kick so I made banana cupcakes with chocolate/vanilla frosting. Wow. Been a while since I whipped out the mixer and made one of my own recipes. The Dutch bake well, but they don’t do what I do. These fabulous birthday cupcakes taste like a banana split. You get the chocolate/vanilla in the frosting first, then the bust of banana in the cake. Lush! lol! We began with 12 cupcakes and I see my bro did a nighttime raid; there’s only one left.
I like baking. And I like what I bake. Dangerous combination! [And for the record, if you’re listening, Universe, YES! I would take offered money and open a small bakery somewhere. The hours would suit me.]
Supposed to talk to the girl today. Let her
moan write out what she needs to. Can’t help but judge it right now. I feel it’s useless. Worthless. Silly. Hmmm….I guess I’ve been silly an awful lot in my life. Doing so again – by choice, and knowing it’s silly when I go into it – isn’t such a bad thing. My therapist is the folder on my desktop marked ‘home therapy’. I can read, re-read, or ignore any or all of what’s written. It’s just there, for now. Like a bellybutton. Pull on it and all my guts come out (WOW! Where did THAT metaphor come from?!?). Ugly imagery aside, I’ll tug a bit today and see what spills out.
Time is whipping around me again. This week is charging at me like a bull. Friday is the day I’ll beg to be allowed to keep my trial shoes, or if I DO have to give them up, to please, please get them back to me ASAP. I’ll make a special trip for them. Still wishy-washy on what I want my first pair to look like. Yeesh! There is very little I’m more uncomfortable with than having absolute free reign to choose ANYTHING. I can’t make up my mind. I’ve been leaning towards a stock pair the store has on their website. That might be easiest, and get my shoes to me the fastest. Yet…If the world is open to me, shouldn’t I be a bit more inventive than to just point to a pair of shoes and say ‘Those are okay’? And there’s so MANY shoes I like the look of.
Maybe the girl can help me.
lol! Now THAT’S a switch. I’ve set out to help the girl, and within this short span of time I find myself asking help FROM her.
Maybe that’s what I need.
Go on, kiddo. Let loose. Tell me what you want. I’ll give you what you need.