POSTCARDS....a small card with a picture on one side...

May 23, 2015

Ruthless Me

I didn’t go visit Dale today.  I didn’t visit G’s father or my Father either.  What I did was clean out my closet.  Ruthlessly.  It didn’t matter how much I paid for something, what it was, or who gave it to me, if I hadn’t used it, out it went.  If it didn’t fit me, I got rid of it.  I did put everything in a giant bag to donate, and I was quite surprised at the weight of it all.  You would have laughed at me.

Beige top?  Beige alone should be a key for dismissal.  When did I get it.  To go with what?  I can’t button the turquoise shirt?  Oh dear, and out it goes.  Pants.  Even my favorite Ralphies that I paid real money for?  They can no longer be buttoned.  I’ve gained so much weight this year that I now have a pop-over top despite all my efforts in the pool. 

I wimped out when it came to the last box on the floor of my closet.  It’s got the bedroom curtain, chair, and lamp fabrics in it.  I had tried on every shirt and every pair of pants, and perhaps I had worn out my git-up-and-go.  Perhaps I will go visit John, Ruby, and Dale tomorrow afternoon.

Point Loma facing north from the lighthouse to Ft. Rosecrans Cemetery.

  • Himself:  Going to see, “Tomorrowland.”
  • Herself:  Slept eight hours.  Shopping for a new and baggy sweatshirt, black.  Thinking about going back to writing class.
  • Reading:  Old dated, Cadell’s and enjoying them no end.

  • Balance:  Reading
  • May 22, 2015

    Being a Slob

    Planes landing over Balboa Park.
    It’s a three day weekend.  This means I get to see more of George than the top of his head on the other side of the desk.  Working at home has its advantages for the worker, but I would think the biggest disadvantage would be the wifely abstract interruptions. 

    My “Don’t forget to tighten the arm-rest on Grumpy,” would easily break into any concentration.  There’s also, “Are we going out to eat?  What did you want for dinner?  What are you wearing tonight?  Any good wrecks today?”

    I’m definitely a loose cannon in his life.  I’m sure he loves it when I head out to work or fall silently asleep over my computer. 

    He was always a precise sort of guy, but I note lately that his neatness here in the house has become a priority.  Perhaps I’ve gotten even more lax and slobbish in my old age.  My bad housekeeping habits used to drive my mother mad…throw it all in a closet and shut the door sort of thing.  My mother had daily help.  Of course her house was clean. 

    When I was in college the first time around, I was an alcoholic with two jobs, two kids, a stoned husband, causes, several friends living with us, and great crowds of friends stopping by every night.   Once when mother called before stopping by, not only did we all throw things in every closet, the garage, and the oven, but once we even hosed the kitchen down.

    George says that getting a housekeeper saved our marriage.  The truth is that the first five years, I was repeating all the old patterns only without the two kids, friends, and alcohol.  Now that I’m on the downslide of years, I note that I am also on the downslide of neatness again.  Dishes get done, but often only once a day.  The covers get pulled up on the bed, but the bed doesn’t get made every day.  Books pile up on the worktable, but no work is getting done there.  George is outwardly very kind about my slobby habits and lack of motivation. 

    Obviously I need to do something.  Maybe I could make it worse by going back to school? 

  • Himself:  Gym, dishes away, work, meeting…and making plans for the weekend.
  • Herself:  Stayed home from the pool, write trying to be funny, work, work at home, and fix an easy dinner.  Yesterday I used my new Crock-Pot, and the pot roast came out perfectly.
  • Reading:  An old Cadell.
  • Balance:  Having a morning without expectations.

  • May 21, 2015

    A Bauer Pot

    Bauer Black, Vintage, Mid-Century Jardine Vase.

    I thought it just a dirty, black bowl and passed it by.  Later in the morning, I took a couple of photographs of it then turned it over.  Bauer, it said.  I knew that Bauer was one of the best of the California potters, and I even own two of their largest bowls.  As I left the store, I pointed out to one of our volunteers that the bowl had water spots and needed washing.

    This morning, after the gym and breakfast, I tried to look up this bowl on the internet.  In an hour of research, I found only one similar bowl, but it had no price.  Other black pieces run from  seventy five dollars to a hundred something.  I think I will run down to the store this morning to make sure it got washed and priced fairly and get it up off floor level.  That might be nice.

  • Himself:  Tidy house, Gym, work, planning something for after dinner.
  • Herself:  Managed to get started half an hour late, but got a pot roast started in my new slow cooker that I have been afraid to use…everything in the old one came out dark brown. 
  • Reading:  The new Hillerman.  So far good.
  • Balance:  Sprinkles and black skies.