This month has been one of introspection, strategy, and fresh peaches. They are my favorite summer fruit, you know. Brett and I are plodding along, deciding what we want our life to be and it's interesting how stationary such musings are. Planning is all talk until the day arrives. (Though we have no such moment in mind, so...)
The kittens have begun coming around for snacks so I've snapped a few pictures. The shelter said that if I "handle" them frequently, they would become accustomed to people enough that I could bring them in to be adopted after a certain point, but they won't let me come within two feet of them, so I guess we just have six cats now. Brett is understandably outraged.
Here is a family photo. Dad (Mr. Ned Cricket) and Mom (Clara) are on the left.
These two are Cameron and Barkley.
I've reached a stage of old person enlightenment whereabouts I am no longer interested in pretending my enjoyment or approval of other people. It's almost like I want them to know that I'm not impressed. What is that about?
Brett and I have always had to move around strategically so that I don't get trapped or ropped into things on account of my politeness and people-pleasing.
When solicitors come to the door, I'll let them do their who 15 minute spiel even though we already have a termite guy, and then I'll take the pamphlet and their phone number and suggest that I need to talk to my husband. I know it takes a lot of courage to knock on strangers' doors to sell them things - and people can be so mean - I just want to give these burdensome salesmen a cheerful place to rest for moment. I don't know if it's kind or not.
One time I played the part of "vacuous, skill-less wife" and said I didn't know about these things and you'd need to talk to my husband - even though I'm the one that actually manages these things. I told Brett about it and he was shocked that I would reduce myself to that of the patriarchy's expectation of a woman and I said it was the only time I've been grateful to be perceived as stupid. Point is, Brett has to answer the door when solicitors come.
What was I talking about? Oh yes.
Lately, I'm unbothered by skipping the bit where I humor folks and instead I just get to the point. And while I will agree that it is liberating and more efficient, it does make for much less interesting encounters.
Tomorrow is my 35th birthday and I've been looking forward to the part of getting older where they say you just don't care about things, and I can see that I'm knocking on that door. It's quite exciting. It's happening earlier than I expected though, but so has the joint pain and loose thighs, so I guess I'm older than I thought I'd be at 35, while still feeling like 35 is a young person.
But then I see group pictures like this one (a celebration of a med. school graduation) and realize that we all probably look like adults. When I'm walking around Downtown, I feel like I probably blend in with all the college kids, but then I'll unexpectedly see my reflection in a shop window and be stunned by the clear fifteen year difference. What do you mean??
I don't mind. I'm just surprised.
Meanwhile, Brett hurt his ankle and couldn't make it through the grocery store on foot, so maybe I should rest my case.
These thoughts aside, we've been swimming in the creek, making peach cobblers, and sitting on the porch reading until it gets dark at 9:00. It's my all time favorite time of year, and we haven't even gotten to boiled peanut season!
Here's a grainy photo from an Eisenhauer grill-out on the hottest day of the year so far. My car read 108˚ - I didn't even check the "feels like" temperature. In fact, it was so hot, I took to an activist's endeavor that's caused quite a stink. I'll tell you more soon!
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