Brown Cow

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How now, brown cow?

An existential question, indeed.

Now is where it’s at. Always. Getting confused in the past or future is a hinderance and it prevents you from seeing what’s right in front of you.

My now is pretty full.

Took a two hour stroll yesterday with a pulled back (the walk worked out the problem but it was a bit painful) to look at cheap furniture. With J and his boyfriend coming soon, we at least need a place for them to sit, and preferably something they can sit in and be comfortable for a few hours. My bro found a furniture outlet about 25 minutes from the house, so we walked there and then walked around a warehouse jammed with this and that. We also need chairs for the dining room table; it’s been sitting in the middle of the room since we got it but we have no chairs for it. So up and down every aisle, measuring this, sitting in that, walking away from the high priced items. We think we’ve found stuff that will work.

All the better. J told me in a recent message that he’s so short of cash he might not make his rent this month. We may end up hanging out here more than I imagined.

Don’t care. Space will be tight. It is already. But I’ll get to see my friend’s face relax with laughter and conversation. We’ll enjoy good food together and catch up with each other in the way you can only do face to face. Those are the things I’m really looking forward to.

I’ve made a whole batch of sour trahanas, which is how I pulled my back. It’s a fantastic Greek dish. It takes a few days to get it right, and the trahanas gets very thick – I broke a wooden spoon once while stirring it. The effort was worth it: I now have enough dried sour trahanas to make several meals while J is here. It takes about 10 minutes to make once I have it this far, so it’s fast, delicious, and completely vegetarian. Perfect.

Today I’m transplanting tomato seedlings. Every year the supermarket chain Albert Hein gives away little packs of seeds and a small seedling pot as a gimmick in spring. I hit the jackpot this year and got cherry tomatoes. All six have sprouted. That’s a perfect number of plants for my apartment windows. They’ve finally all got their first grown up leaves, so it’s time to get them separated and into larger accommodations. I LOVE the smell of tomato plants in the room. It’s kind of peppery. Double bonus that they give you tasty veg.

*sigh* I’m now at the place I knew I’d be in: more ‘tasks’ left before J flies in than I can possibly do. Got to winnow through the chaff. Figure out what’s the most important to get done and concentrate on that…. Give myself a moment and there it is. Gee, I guess it wasn’t all that tough to figure out.

  1. Take care of myself so I feel good while they’re here.
  2. Get in enough seating so we can all sit down at the same time.
  3. General cleanliness.

The order WAS going to be different, but I remembered what I need to remember: people are happiest around me when I’m happy. That means don’t push myself, sleep in, and get my hair done. Priorities, priorities, priorities…

It also means giving myself enough time to talk to the girl. Today. Right after this. Because I’ve been putting it off. She’s been okay with it; no nagging thoughts that have been waking me up at 4 a.m. But I want to check in. Make sure she’s okay. Make sure we’re okay. I don’t want her jumping out while my guests are here because I didn’t take care of her.

Haven’t heard back yet from the theatre. Non-communication and bird shit shoveling does a lot to deflate those flights of fancy.

Good news is that the work on the balcony is beginning to pay off. I don’t think flowers or tender plants would ever be safe out there, but I may be able to get a couple of small, hardy bushes that can take it. We’ve had a few hard rains since I did the shoveling so it looks much better. Still have to clean up the railing. Got in some disposable gloves so I can finish the job.

The joys of city living.

Well, in Ireland it was shoveling sheep shit out of the gravel drive. Sheep herds were always getting in. Some days the drive was like a mine field.

I guess the lesson is that you ALWAYS have to shovel shit, no matter where you live.

…Maybe I shouldn’t approach the situation with such irony. Maybe there’s a bigger lesson to learn there.

If I want to keep my garden area or balcony clean, I have to shovel whatever shit lands on it. Well, MAYBE if I want to keep my life in a certain manner, I’ll have to keep my personal space ‘clean’ as well. Aha! That means (buzz word coming) that I need to know my boundaries. I need to understand how close I’ll let the shit of the world come to me.

Not very close at all.

I have been likened to a princess in a tower. Not so much because I sit and wait for someone to rescue me, but because I have a very separate life inside my head. It’s a double edged sword; it’s filled my loneliness, but it’s also become a hinderance at times, intruding on social situations and making me appear ‘flighty’ or ’empty headed’. When I’m bored – which happens often enough that when I’m NOT bored it’s notable – I go into my head. Think a million thoughts. It happens often. Sometimes for a nano-second, sometimes for a lengthy two or three seconds. Then I come back to the conversation, sometimes knowing what’s being said and sometime having lost vital communication. I can then make inappropriate comments that have nothing at all to do with the subject matter being discussed. Been noticing this tendency in me a lot lately.

Back to the NOW, brown cow.

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