I can’t believe I forgot All About You. I guess I’m just so stuck on All About Me that it went straight out of my mind. I was focussing so hard on memorizing lines and dealing with pain (oh, my, it’s baaad) that it went straight out of my head.
But … I am writing every chance I get. For some reason I went straight to my computer yesterday morning and jumped right in and wrote 2400 words and didn’t even think of Refab. I was just too busy being fabulous.
When I come home for a break I’ll see what your plans are. How are you guys doing? It’s hard to be depressed during the summer. I moved past the anniversary of my mother’s death without problems, but a couple of days before I walked into the town clerk’s office and Valdine said “Hi, Taffy” and then was immediately horrified with herself and I laughed but it got the tears going. It’s the unexpected stuff.
Fortunately I deliberately don’t know the date my brother died, so we’re good there.
It’s easy to get depressed in the spring, which is odd, since everything is coming alive (that’s when I typically get down and when suicide rates are high). You’d think Fall would get people, and yet it’s my favorite time of year and there aren’t a lot of suicides and old people dying like you get in spring. Odd.
Not that I mean to be talking about suicide and depression when I’m enjoying life so much. I’ve started drinking coffee in the morning to replace the DC, and flavored seltzer is always a treat, plus I’ve got a number of water holders – the insulated Kleen Kanteen being my favorite. I’m still waiting for my BFF to return from Ann Arbor but I’m not holding my breath.
Okay, gotta find camera stuff. Talk to you tomorrow when I have more time.
Nobody plays. Sorry we’ve been MIA — I’ve been working my elegant buns off.
So Tuesday, our “day off” I quickly finished the copy-edits on my book, jumped in the pool and floated, ran off to the Giving Closet (our local thrift “shop” that costs nothing), went down to the Bend for a costuming meeting, somehow decided to buy all the fabric for Eulalie’s ballet, zoomed off to Montpelier (42 miles away), ate a salad at Panera with too much feta in it and I don’t even like feta — I thought that sour taste was the dressing. Then off to Jo-Anns, then to the grocery store, then home to a stomach attack that kept me in the bathroom the rest of the night. I hate hate hate stomach attacks. From the feta, aggravated by running around in high heat and humidity, I think.
So yesterday I woke up, visited the bathroom for a while, jumped in the pool, went to a read-through, went to Sally’s to make an apron for Mrs. Paroo (which ended up too small), found a dozen white button down blouses for townswomen in my ironing bag (don’t ask — I went through a black and white phase), came home, jumped in the pool, started to make dinner, was discouraged from doing so, threw on some clothes and back to rehearsal with new fans for everyone (including blank ones for the kids so they can personalize them which I stupidly but generously overnighted the day before).
So there’s a problem.
I have trouble walking, much less standing. And this requires a great deal of standing around. I cop a squat as often as I can, but I have a little delsarte ballet, I stand on stage a lot, and my knees, my calves, and my feet are in agony. Even before my knees went bad I had trouble with my feet.I do have orthotics but I’m not sure I can wear them in the play.
And I love doing this.
I’m hesitant about the knee replacement because of all the other stuff that will keep me from being mobile. But I guess I’ve got to bite the bullet.
I probably can’t be in the play next year because it coincides with the conference, but we’ll see.
Today I need to type up the mayor’s dialogue and put it on cards and be back for a run through at 1 pm. As my eldest daughter Zaneeta would say, “ye gods!”
But I’m a happy girl.
We went back at six for a three hour run through but the thunderstorm of all thunderstorms hit so we got to go home, where the lights were off, Erin, Tim and Alex were there, having chowed down on most of the dinner (why does it please me so to feed my family?) and then I just went up to bed, naked, and listened to audiobooks until the lights came on. Then Richie turned on the air conditioner for me, I ate some cherries and went to sleep.
I do need to get on the scale. Yesterday I had a breakfast bar, a bunch of pretzel goldfish, a lean cuisine meal (sesame chicken, which I can eat all the time) and cherries. Oh, and a white chocolate Kit-kat at 220 calories. Hmmm. Under a thousand calories. Better have some scrambled eggs for lunch — we have some free-range ones from a local farm. Need to keep up my strength.
The only thing that would make this perfect is if I were writing. I think I need to start on the new book, getting thoughts on paper instead of just letting it dance around in my head.
And then life would be simply grand.
Still and all, it’s pretty damned good, no matter how much pain and how tired I am.
We all know we’re supposed to eat more veggies, but it often feels like another chore, another bothersome, unenjoyable thing to add to our list of bothersome, annoying chores.
The weather here has finally been cool and rainy, which we really needed to put out fires and fire danger. I needed it so that I could get into my garden and pull weeds and check the progress of various things. The heat and smoke has meant the tomatoes and cucumbers are still stunted, the corn is only calf high, and most of the other veggies are hardly even appearing. I grow flowers, too, all mixed into my hippie-suburban backyard, though the cats put their collective paws down over chickens.
The wonder of the garden is that many things are still doing well. Beneath the growing vines of some scarlet runner beans were some leftover radishes, and the last of the monster spinach, looking as robust and healthy as Popeye himself. This is an heirloom variety I decided to try, and the leaves are as big as my forearm and very smooth so they’re easy to clean.
As I stood in my kitchen, washing the veggies, I thought about the days and nights, the sunlight and the wind, even the smoke, that had gone into the molecules of the vegetables. How amazing! I took a bite of that big, beautiful purple radish and thought about how the hours of sunlight, the water, the earth and worms moving around it to produce this one radish. By eating it, I was taking in that sunlight, that rain, the days just passed, the moonlight, the birdsong twittering in there. I mixed the spinach into orzo with lemon and garlic for lunch–feeling magnificent about my eating choices. Who could ever feel badly about eating that food? How nourishing!
That’s how it is with veggies, especially when you can visit the local farm stand or farmers market or grow some in your backyard. Continue reading