Finger Facts

The dropping down to two posts a month thing has reminded me of the mental lethargy that I allow when I no longer feel responsible for creating literary entertainment. At risk of only giving you pithy updates twice each month, I'm struggling to fill the storytelling void. Is that because nothing story-worthy has happened? Of course not! Everyday has a story in it somewhere. Living with EisenEars guarantees a certain kind of domestic adventure each day. 

On one finger I'm deep in a depressing look at human rights for school, and it's smothering out my hope for positive change. People are so terrible to each other and I just don't understand the motives they give for their terrible decisions. Money and power don't seem like they have a great ROI. Not compared to the wonderful freedom of anonymity and concocting a supper with the strange and expired things you find in the back of your pantry. Rich people never get to experience that kind of domestic adventure. What do they even laugh about? I'd never hurt people to make money. I'm certain of it. 

On another finger, I'm just so delighted by Springtime and all the pretty weeds that are blooming in our yard. There are fruits and flowers and seabirds, and my two little cat friends are a whole new kind of pet experience. Equally thrilling, I nursed a little bee back to health and sent him on his way. (That makes it sound like I labored for days with tiny instruments, but really I just fed an exhausted bee some sugar water and protected it while it recovered.) The joy I felt when it could fly again could possibly be described as unreasonable. Brett and I have had a few failed kayaking trips - the dogs aren't used to it yet / the current is strong / we beached ourselves - but we have high hopes for an aqua summer. 

A middle finger shows my whole "needing a job" thing to help pay for my existence. Bleh!

On my ring finger, we've got some trips coming up that are equal parts fun and educational. I'm especially excited to get to visit Farm Sanctuary in June. This is THE sanctuary that started the movement and holy smokes I can't wait to meet the residents! (The rescued animals.) I'm headed up to Acadia National Park for school, which has been described to me as an adult summer camp. They said people show up well-dressed with shoes on and by day three everyone is barefoot and traipsing around in their jammies. What kind of establishment is this, you ask? The kind that sticks it to The Man!

My pinky, and the final finger we'll discuss tonight is all the home/family goodies. We had a dramatic week of surgeries, interstate travel, important hosting gigs, and deadlines, and I'm glad to report that everyone made it out alive. Brett and I are looking forward to some weekend that is surely coming anytime now, where we can wake up and THEN decide what we'll do with our day. EisenEars may as well have three full-time jobs and I'm either trailing behind him cleaning up or forging ahead to make sure we have what we need for the day. We're exhausted! It has admittedly resulted in a lot more tv time than we'd really care to partake in, especially when it's so nice outside. 

This week we're putting sod in our disaster of a front yard and we know the whole neighborhood will be thrilled. We regularly get comments from passersby about how relived they are that the yard is being cleaned up. Even when we ripped everything out and got the yard down to just dirt, people would walk by and say, "It looks so good!" It's surely an improvement from not being able to see the house, but you know its bad when people are excited about dirt.

Springtime Scheming

In recent weeks the weather has shifted to oh-so-lovely and so has my outlook on life. We had a few hot days there for minute (in February!?) and the whole town forgot about winter. The azaleas bloomed, people flocked to the beach, and suddenly the neighborhood came alive with joggers and children and sunshine. It was marvelous. It's still nice out, though the temps have dropped again, but since everyone has already committed to winter being over, we're all still walking around in t-shirts out of principle. 

Brett and I are both sick this week. He started it. There we were, discussing my new favorite Turkish tv show when he felt a tickle in his throat. "I'm going down LUE!!" he shouted with a high degree of drama. Have I told you my theory on men turning to mush when they get sick? I've decided the fault is no one's. It's that women are used to feeling crappy. We have a list of symptoms that coalesce with our very existence. Men feel great all month long. It's no wonder a cold seems awful. It's all in what you're used to. Anyways, Brett wallowed around about the throat tickle and then became snotty. (As in mucus-y, not spoiled.) The next day he passed his germs over to me and I have carried them with a high degree of a grace and strength. 

Without fail, Pip lays in the way.

Meanwhile outside, Contractor Dad has started and nearly finished an unexpected addition to our home. The little toll booth was too narrow for our lawn-mower to go inside, so we looked into putting a large shed on the back of it. Dad had some kind of deal on one, so that was easy. But then the deal fell through at the same time that Dad ran out of things to do. "I'll just build one," he said. But he is a creative dreamer in his own reality-based way (because nothing is impossible for Chris Union) and he said, "You know what we could do...?" Zoom ahead about three weeks and we now have a legitimate garage with big recycled windows and doors and lumber - which makes his hippie, "one-love", "save the planet" daughter very happy.

Mom has begun her latest exercise regimen. After her last attempt at physical movement, her pants became too tight, so she threw in the towel. "I bulk up fast!" she says. And even though she was only doing some fast walking, she claims that her gluteus medius got so big that she couldn't zip her pants. I believe her, but the family has ridiculed her. This time around, she says she's going to stick with it even though exercise makes her fat. "I'm a medical anomaly."

Mom helps out at the latest wedding setup.

I don't know what goes on over in Ellen and Lee's place. I imagine high-pitched noises and sandwich jellies. In pet news, Ferguson slept his first night on our bed with both pups. We don't know how he escaped the laundry room but the pups did great and let him stay. Nora is much to sensible to attempt such things. Ferguson is just the most wonderful, but he is not a sharp crayon.

As for school, I'm wrapping up my winter quarter and registering for the summertime. I have finished all of my core courses and am moving onto electives and thesis-type classes. I'm officially headed to Maine in June for my "Residency" (snotty in the spoiled way) and we're tacking on a visit to Alex and Jessie while we're up there. With my final wedding coming up in April, I've really got to get moving on coming up with a new plan for my life. I have a few ideas, but they wouldn't result in a paycheck for a long time, so the real question is, do I want to have financial security now or later? Even though Brett makes a good salary, he's all worked up about my life plan because he's grown accustomed to the double income. "Now is not the time for whimsical purchases," he said to me with a straight face as he ordered an at-home radon test kit.

I have a meeting with my academic advisor next week. She's the kind of brilliant person that can take your little seedling of an idea and turn it into a whole system-changing empire in a few easy steps. I don't know how she does that but I always leave meetings with her feeling like I should run for Senate. We'll see what she thinks about my latest schemes.