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"It's not the honors and the prizes and the fancy outsides of life which ultimately nourish our souls. It's the knowing that we can be trusted, that we never have to fear the truth, that the bedrock of our very being is good stuff." (Fred Rogers)
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August 2016

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Wednesday, February 24th, 2016 12:53 pm
(Crossposted from LiveJournal)

The Distracted Woman's Daybook
(idea based on one by Peggy Hostetler; concept revision by Angie Brennan; other changes are mine)

my 'Mad Men Yourself' iconIn my front yard... and everywhere outside, it's soggy and damp. Not sure when the rain is due to end, but it can't be soon enough for me. It may be good for the crops, but it's bad for both my mood and my commute.

Around the house... much clutter is gone, thanks to the impending visit of the water meter repair person. The Man helped, which was nice of him but also quite fair of me to ask for (since a lot of the accumulated junk came from our oldest son, who dumped all his things in the front room of the old family homestead when he finished college, then didn't take them with him when he moved out of state for an internship & stayed there).

In the kitchen... ditto on less clutter. Also, I made soup. Yum.

I am pondering... existence. Frankly, I am weary of mine. I'm not saying that I'm a danger to myself or anything, but I will admit that this would be a very bad time for me to get a deadly disease that involved momentous choices regarding whether and how to treat it. It wouldn't take much for me to just throw up my hands and say, "the heck with it."

Again, this isn't really a cry for help. It's just that sometimes you have to say out loud the shocking thing you're thinking, or your head feels like it will explode from holding it in.

I am hoping... to get out of this funk, but I'm not sure how. There's been bad stuff happening at church, and then the Man betrayed an important confidence of mine to Number Three Son, and as a result of both I'm feeling very small and very stressed.

I am learning... sorry; I got nothin'. Ask me in a month or so, when I'll have achieved some kind of resolution to the church crisis.

I am thankful for... Number Three Son. I would not be alive today except for him, and he's still the reason I get out of bed in the morning.

I am wearing... a black-and-white outfit. Work clothes. (Here's a funny: I was wearing the jacket -- not a proper jacket; more like a shawl with sleeves -- inside out, till a helpful student in my first class shyly pointed it out. The absent-minded professor, indeed.)

I am creating... nothing. All right, possibly an ulcer, with all my worrying.

I am going... nowhere. That's metaphorically, mind you. Also, out of my mind.

I am reading... recipes, as a substitute for actually preparing them and ingesting mass calories.

I've been watching... too much TV. Agent Carter is my current favorite -- girl power AND the 1940s! Also, NCIS, the comfort food of TV shows. And Downton Abbey -- one episode left! Poor Edith ...

I've been listening to... Hamilton, but I think I'll have to stop, as it makes me very emotional.

I am looking forward to... nothing. Okay, the Star Trek concert on my birthday. But, otherwise, nothing.

One of my favorite things... is fantasizing about winning money so I can quit my job. At the moment, it -- the fantasizing, I mean -- is about the only thing that gets my endorphins flowing.

My plans for the rest of the week... are basically to survive it.

A quote for today... "There are seasons in every country when noise and impudence pass current for worth; and in popular commotions especially, the clamors of interested and factious men are often mistaken for patriotism." ― Alexander Hamilton (according to the Internet, at least)

Here is a picture I am sharing with you... from Facebook. It's a Peeps Diorama made for the Washington Post's 2016 contest by Kate Ramsayer, Helen Fields and Joanna Church. Ms. Ramsayer posted the photo to FB.

And, yes, it's Hamilton.

Hamilpeep
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Friday, February 26th, 2016 09:32 am (UTC)
Thinking of you. Prayers.
Sunday, February 28th, 2016 10:35 pm (UTC)
Ten minutes ago I received an email from my 56 year old sister-in-law. She has had a benign brain tumour for many years, but in this email she wrote:
"The latest scan in January unfortunately showed that my ever-persistent tumour has returned and we have tried every avenue of treatment that I am prepared to accept. We'll now let nature take its course and concentrate on symptom control and palliative care."
and now I read your comment:
...this would be a very bad time for me to get a deadly disease that involved momentous choices regarding whether and how to treat it.
and I am put into a very introspective frame of mind.

It's hard to identify your value in the world sometimes, isn't it? Ten years ago I saw almost no value and I wrote a few letters to be read only after my death. I certainly wouldn't have opted for any life-saving surgical procedures. The decision is somehow harder now. Perversely, my 'role' in the world which keeps me wanting to live is to manage the last years of my mother, to save my family from that burden. I need to live until my mother dies.

I guess my slightly obscure point is that our motivation for continuing to live varies significantly from time to time, and periods of negativity can sometimes be followed by sustained periods of purpose and intention to continue.

And as my sister-in-law's email continued:

"It's anyone's guess what the future holds as far as quality and length of life is concerned, but then that's exactly the same for everyone of us. isn't it? :-) "