A Deep Breath (#8)

I began this post around 10 am, with the hopes of finishing it by noon. Something got in the way. The past kind of caught up with me. Better now, though. After some ruminations and conversations, I came back to this post, and wrapped it up. A little halfheartedly. However, I finished it. Now on to laundry and other chores.

(Well, at least the interruption has given me fodder for a future post or two.)

(I decided to grow short sunflower plants in a pot out front. They were doing so well, until a deer decided to feast on them. I had not thought of that eventuality. Perhaps an analogy to current events in my life? The question now is how will I react?)

Well, having a new table saw, assembled and running, has not increased my productivity. At least not this past week. I did use it to construct wooden poles for my growing tomato plants. The remaining sixteen that were not supported by the frame I built last weekend. That was the extent of the machine's service. So far. I have plans. Of course, it would help if I write them down--planning is also on my list of things to do.

As in previous years, my youngest daughter is participating in a summer ballet intensive (my eldest is a summer counselor at a dance camp--if I did not mention her, she would have given me grief). The little one started last week. It runs each day from 9:30 am to 4:00 pm. Plenty of time for me to get things done. Except, the drive is forty minutes. Each way. So, by 8:30 am, I am out the door, dropping off the oldest at work, and then heading down south. The trip is scenic. Most of it is back roads, 45-50 mph. Unless someone wants to do thirty for some reason. There are pockets of traffic, mostly around the lights, and summer construction shut down a preferred route, forcing me to be creative. In the end I prefer this commute to the one I did last year. It involved ninety minute round trips of white knuckle driving. During both rush hours. On a one of the worst highways in my state. My only saving grace was the direction: I was going in the opposite side of the heavier volume.

So, I am not complaining. I have been catching up on a lot of podcasts and NPR shows. Caught some fascinating stuff on the Dobbs case, and new additions for my every growing reading lists. In addition, I heard a funny story of a sex ed talk between a mother and her young daughter. It started with frogs and ended with a discussion of internet porn. That is, when my daughter decides she would rather listen to her own music through her earbuds, and not the Beach Boys Channel on Sirius XM Radio. Fortunately, for me, she has gone with her earbuds more often than not.

(She did catch one of my NPR discussions--I think it was about a sperm donor who fathered a hundred children, and one of those children discovered it randomly and unexpectedly. The story was about the concept of family. And my daughter asked me directly why I bothered listening to this stuff. That led to a discussion about hearing other people's stories, redefining traditional terms, learning empathy, and sensationalism. Well, I talked about all those things. I am not sure she digested any of it.)

Instead, I am whining, in the hopes of making changes (about my tight schedule while chauffeuring my daughter--there are three more weeks of it). Yes, when I whine, I listen to myself, then spend time judging what I say. If you are lucky, you may witness me doing this in real time: I have been known to openly whine about a task, and then immediately call it out as such, and begin dissecting why I should not be frustrated, or discover a way to overcome it.

(There is a reason why I spend more time listening than talking.) 

However, this particular instance of whining has no simple solution, unlike the purchase of a wheelbarrow from Lowe's. This one demands greater considerations. I have to plan things out. 

That is why I am sitting here writing out this blog post before noon. While planning is important, keeping up this writing habit is takes priority. Therefore, I decided not to procrastinate. And I chose this topic, because by "putting it down on paper" I am getting it out of my head. Long enough to focus on planning. 

Sigh. Except, two thirds the way through this post, I received a disturbing distraction. It shifted my focus. For a moment. However, I am not going to let it get to me. Emotionally, I am in a better place, and refuse to be pulled down. Plus, it was a long time coming. A door was shut on me. Slammed, really. Yet, a part of me is grateful. Whatever is on the other side, no longer deserves my attention.

Now, I am free to move on.

Now, I can figure out how to navigate the upcoming week.