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I may get to the Friday Five later on. For now, taking a brief break from the battle with domestic ENTROPY and chaos-come-again.
Spurred by RAGE and weariness in wet-vacuuming something like 300 litres of rainwater out of my permeable basement this week -- recognizing that chore would at least be made much easier if it weren't so overfull of STUFF -- I have put THAT DAMN BASEMENT in a permanent position at the top of the daily to-do list.
Applying the principle of DO THE WORST FIRST...and the 90-MINUTE MAX principle...and any other of the current buzzwords that seem applicable.
In broad general terms. I have work-space[s]. And I have storage space[s]. And storage keeps encroaching upon and taking over work-space. Until there is nothing but storage, and I am walking sideways through it.
So just at present I am fighting the Battle of Jars. Not on the Plain of Jars ("megalithic archaeological landscape in Laos" thank you, Wikipersons), but in the Basement of Jars. Although come to think of it, "megalithic archaeological landscape" is not altogether unfitting...
By "jars," of course, I mean CANNING JARS. ("When I say religion, I mean the Christian religion..." etc.) Or Mason jars. Or whatever you call them in your tradition.
There are two kinds of people in this world, including in Canada, and they are those who know what a Mason jar is, and those who do not. And between them there is a great gulf fixed, take it from me.
But there are also Usefully Huge jars which formerly contained mayo or peanut butter or pickles. And are just too...imposingly JAR...to throw out. And there are other commercial jars that are Efficiently Tall and Slim for storing bit of things in the fridge (speaking of megalithic archaeological landscapes).
And there are those Evil Devious jars formerly full of purchased pasta sauce, which despite their one-piece lids are, in fact, actual Mason jars complete with cute designs in the glass and volume-markers up the side.
I don't want to talk about the baby-food jars. I just don't.
I think my problem is that when my conscience was in a particularly unset state, perhaps, somebody came and left a big fat footprint in it, in the shape of a comment about how wasteful and cavalier 20th century North Americans are with CONTAINERS. The idea being that if we had had to gnaw that peanut butter jar, and its lid, out of the primal soapstone with our own front teeth, we wouldn't be tossing it into the landfill with a blithe tra la la, the way we do. So I have a COMPUNCTION, nasty thing, whenever I do.
In spite of all this dithering and casuistry, I have accumulated one Big Blue Bag of glassware and lids for the recycle pickup next week. So Tether's End will be roomier by that much volume, at least.
back at it...
"Dear Grandma, please make more yogurt. Thank you."
Well, this was fun, sort of... the day started out clear and bright and warm -- I admired it carefully through the window and then flattened out again on the couch and, basically, slept all day. Tottered out in the evening to hear a presentation on things Franciscan...which was stimulating and fun and interesting. Not everybody among those attending altogether oriented toward what was being discussed or how it was being discussed. There's a distinction, for sure, between, "open to learning more about" and "determined to get to the bottom of" -- and those who are fielding the questions are clearly aware of the difference.
Then I came home, pausing only at them there Arches to pick up a "meal," using the term loosely. There are just times when nothing but fat, salt, and phosphoric acid will do the trick.
I think, I hope, I pray, that the "Ask the Matriarch" is recognizably posted for the morning... and so to bed, tomorrow being also a day.
After a pretty good night's sleep...re-vacuumed the living room in response to a strange proliferation of CHEERIOS hither and thither... Then got the kitchen counters cleaned, the dishwasher loaded, and headed off to the dentist for the second instalment of a three-stage cleaning. My dentist has been my dentist for just under 40 years. He is sidling into retirement...has taken on a new young partner and a bevy of new hygienists. The receptionist remains the same, with a wonderful whooping laugh like a troop of cavalry crossing a tin bridge...
I dislike the tooth-cleaning routine but I have techniques for coping. Two Tylenol (about 1/2 an hour before my appointment) seem to help. And I tell the hygienist how gentle she has been, and how much I appreciate it.
Then home, a little, a very little, lunch (tooth-cleaning always makes me think, maybe intravenous is the way I want to go from here on), and then LAWN MOWING. Brief frustration at trying to find the keys to the shed (the shed which contains the mower), but we managed that, and I was happy to use my NEW and very flexible 100-foot extension cord (electric mower)...It took me three or four sessions, with iced tea in between, but the front yard looks, if not good, at least INTENTIONAL. And not so much as if "some kind o' widder-woman" lives here (my grandmother's label for a certain state of dilapidation and neglect).
And then got myself cleaned up and away to a wonderful dinner and glorious spiraling conversation with one-two-three charming gentlemen--life and art and dance and theatre and The Church and The Faith and national identity and lovely never-exhausted topics like that.
I have put the garbage out. I am going to bed with some good reading. Tomorrow is also a day.
It's late, and I'm about to fold myself toward bed, I think. Yesterday was "plenty" -- preached three times, one sermon at the early service and a second sermon (different readings) at the second and third services. And I cut cake world-without-end...after the services. Very kind things were said, and there are roses...and then Ace Brother, who had been waiting altogether patiently, whisked me away "whisk" to our favourite Sunday-brunch place, and we ate eggs with pleasant accompaniments and then reformed the constitution, the church, the nation, etc. and so forth until, in effect, they threw us out. Back to the erstwhile workplace to pick up my own vehicle and then home through the least credible entanglement of traffic barricades and obstructions and constructions and detours...
Fell down on the couch with a blanket and slept hard for five solid hours. Got up and "went to bed properly" and slept for another seven.
So today has been pretty productive...suffice it to say two vacuum cleaners came into play.
Number One granddaughter arrived with her accoutrements just after three o'clock. We had a long walk all around the neighbourhood in the pleasant sunshine. I put her hat on for her. She took it off. I put her hat on. She took it off. There was kind of a RHYTHM to it...and then on the way home we went to the PLAYGROUND, where there are SWINGS and SLIDES...she laughs aloud at the sight of them (she's not quite 15 months old) and is overjoyed to "be swung"...and fearless about coming down the slide by herself.
What else is in the playground? A lot of very little people...and their grandparents...so we compared notes, bragged, etc.
Came home (enjoying most of a rice cake in fragments as we went along) and then she was definitely hungry. She practically inhaled a banana...I have never seen such an appetite in one so little... and we played. I have a number of oversized stuffed animals, and these hit the spot... good to know! Great hugging and cuddling and patting ... then it was supper time, with the nice things her Mama had brought for her...and her Mama arrived and was able to snatch a little supper for herself before inserting Granddaughter into her jammies and away they went home.
Absolute bliss, but oh! boy! there are reasons why we don't have babies in our sixties, and my muscles are reciting them all tonight!!!
Tomorrow will be grass-cutting day here, weather permitting -- and a quick trip to the dentist -- and a bunch of little fiddly errands -- and then a dinner party "out."
I am in between appointments for almost the first time in three and a half years...and enjoying the freedom. Lots and lots of projects to do but everything takes longer than it used to, and a "clear week" before me seems like inconceivable luxury.
