So, I’m on this quest to take better care of myself, right?
I’m doing really good with it, too. I’ve been writing poetry nearly every day. And I’m reading through Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, because it’s springtime, and I’ve never read the whole thing, and it seemed like a good piece to read and ponder as part of my self-assigned independent study.
I’ve also sketched a daffodil, and discovered that I really need to be sketching more. I plan on more regular sketching in the future.
I’ve also planted some pansies and a few other perennials in our badly neglected flower beds, and I’ve spent hours and hours and HOURS raking at least 5 year’s worth of leaves and junk from the dank corners of our new yard and dumping said leaves into large chickenwire bins I’ve made and next year it will be a nice organic leaf mold I want to use on the grass and in the flower beds. Thus begins my foray into organic gardening. And I’ve spent those hours listening to a symphony of birds mingled in with the sound of my daughters laughing and yelling and playing with each other and the little boy who lives behind us, pondering all the while the concept of BALANCE and feeling on the cusp of understanding things that have eluded me for years.
And of course, adding poetry and sketching and gardening to my already busy day means that certain things have taken a bit of a backseat. Things like dusting. And keeping my laundry bins empty. And exercising every day. And brushing crumbs off the chair cushions after every meal. And finding just the right brand of organic green tea so that when you steep it, it STAYS GREEN FOREVER instead of turning rather golden and tea-colored.
So, if you come to tea at my house and the green tea doesn’t look green, please just drink it anyway. Please don’t ponder out loud if it might have something to do with my water, or if the brand of tea is the exact kind you’ve got at home. Please just drink it. It’s what you asked for, so I gave it to you. I didn’t switch it for decaf at the last minute. I swear.
And if you come to tea at my house, and you find your chair cushion has some crumbs on it because it’s the seat my 4-year-old usually sits in, I would appreciate it greatly if you would just brush the crumbs to the floor and make yourself comfy. Or sit someplace else. Or just sit on the crumbs. You’re probably wearing jeans, after all. And it’s just crumbs, for God’s sake. It’s not like the cat took a dump right there on the damn cushion and I’m forcing you to sit on it. I’m a busy homeschooling mother who has no hired help at the time, who’s just trying to add a little extra sanity-saving time into her day, and who just DOES NOT NEED someone to stand offended in her dining room and ask for a chair with NO FUCKING CRUMBS ON IT.
By now, you’re all wondering a few things:
1) Did someone come over to your house and complain about crumbs on the cushions?
2) Was it your mother?
3) If it wasn’t your mother, was it your mother-in-law?
4) If it wasn’t your mother-in-law, who the hell was it?
The answers are: Yes, No, No, and it wasn’t a family member at all. It was a friend. A pretty good one, I thought, although I’m beginning to think I need to rethink that. She apparently DOES NOT LIKE CRUMBS. AT ALL. Who knew? And, let’s face it people, my LIFE is crumbs. And green tea that doesn’t stay green. What to do?
After that happy little afternoon of tea and insanity, I spent the evening listening to Ten Thousand Fists, the latest Disturbed CD. It’s the best therapy ever, if you ask me. Especially when your husband just happens to have all sorts of heavy metal recording equipment attached to the computer, so when you tell him about how your afternoon went and that you just have to listen to Disturbed at the most maximum CRANKED levels possible, he simply takes the CD, puts it in the player, and twirls a dozen or so dials to really boost the bass to give you the BEST HEAVY AUDIO EXPERIENCE EVER, Then he points to one of the dozens of dials and knobs and switches and says, That’s the volume, hands you the headphones, and leaves you to it.
A) friends know that leaf raking counts as exercise.
B) friends are unable to see crumbs.
C) all tea is good tea, when shared with a friend.
D) what’s wrong with that woman?
E) good for you with all that care. I’m inspired!
katherine, thanks. How goes the move?
Zoiks. Not a friend, I’m thinking. You can come have tea at my crumby house any time you want. My green tea doesn’t stay green either.
When I come to your house, I will just ask for a glass of water. I’ll just brush the crumbs off the chair, and be glad you offered me a place to plant my butt.
When you come to my house, I’ll rummage through the back of the cabinet and see if I have any tea. I’m sure there’s a teabag back in there somewhere.
And while I don’t have crumbs at the kitchen table (because everyone else eats in the living room) I do have a boatload of dog hair under the table.
Will that bother you?
A true friend definitely looks past the crumbs.
If only you would pop on over for coffee or tea…. I’d be happy to move all the unfolded laundry, toast crumbs and dog hair!
Hugs
This is the part of my day where I beat my breast and rend my hair (or whatever it is that people do in Shakespearan situations) because Shawna and I live 3,000 miles away from each other. And we used to live 3 miles away from each other. WHAT WERE WE THINKING?
And Ami and everyone else, you’re welcome to tea with dog hair crumpets at my place anytime. But you’ll need to bring the dog-hair crumpets because all I’ve got is cat hair surprise. Which you’re all welcome to try any time, of course.
Mmmm…lunchtime!
Oooh cat hair surprise; it’s my favorite. I just stepped in some at the foot of my bed this morning! Squishy between the toes.
Yeah, but was it still warm?
If you’re that picky about your tea you should be carrying your own tea bags with you.
And when did you make friends with (pre-jail) Martha Stewart anyway? (Post-jail Martha knows better than to mention any of those things…she doesn’t want you to make her your B+*&h.)
Love you,
RegSis
I am sorry that this happened. I agree she wasn’t really a friend. I have actually had this happen to me. I was depressed for days.
Good for you for talking time for yourself!!!
Congrats on the poetry writing, reading, sketching, planting and generally taking care of you. Sounds lovely. Don’t let such a strange ‘friend’ derail those efforts with her careless words. It sounds like you know what is important and she has no clue.
My stepson recently introduced me to Disturbed and it would definitely work for heavy metal therapy. I still go for SOAD in those moments myself. I am jealous of all the audio equipment and headphones and stuff. Serious therapy.
Thanks, everyone, for this reality check. All your kind words, in addition to Ten Thousand Fists at MAX VOLUME, have made me feel much, much better.
Just for the record, I would have sat on your crumbs. I would not dream of sweeping them onto the floor. Then when I stood up and the crumbs did fall on the floor I would have taken that as my excuse to pull out the hoover and clean it up for you! (Who am I to make a mess on your floor?)
As for the tea, I have never actually had green tea, that is actually green! I surely must be buying the wrong one! But hey!, I happen to like it, so will keep buying it anyway!
karisma, I’ve never had green tea that was green either! Is there such a tea? My green tea looks FAINTLY green for the first few seconds it steeps, then it turns golden.
And as for the crumbs, the minute you asked for the hoover, I’d have said: “No way! Look how your crumbs mingle with the ones on the carpet. It’s too pretty to vaccuum up.” And then I would have poured us another cup of green tea that isn’t really green and we could have sat and admired the new crumb layout while drinking it.
You say it wasn’t your mother, but are you sure it wasn’t MY mother? Because that’s totally something she would do.
And please. crumbs are nothing. Here, she’d probably step on squishy spaghetti.
squishy spaghetti…sprinkled with a little cat-hair surprise, perhaps?
heh heh.