Sometimes, life leaves you little packages. Some are pleasant, and others require thought. A few are earned, and the rest may be deposited with you whether you want them or not. They make you wince, hold your breath, shake your head in disgust, or shed tears of remorse. Yesterday was one of those days. A thinking type of day.
Thinking about things like:
- What that thing was on the third riser from the top on the staircase. That rounded, dark-looking, too big to be one of the RT’s mishmash of military paraphernalia. That…glob…leaning up against the wall. Did the doggo drop a piece of her load on the rug? No. Can’t be. But there it was in all its glory, a turdlett, most likely left accidentally on her way out the door first thing in the morning. She just couldn’t make it. Somehow she knew that I had found it, and avoided making eye contact as I carried it to the trash, her eyes flicking up and away, knowing she had been caught and was embarrassed.
- Or the sweet little yellow-headed bird Blaxter brought up to me like he was awarding me a bouquet of roses — his mouth full of feathers after laying the no longer breathing feathered beauty softly at my side on the rug. His green eyes searching my face for a response for his deed of gift-giving. What possessed him after eight years to catch a bird? I patted him on the head, gave him a few scratches and rubs, and carefully scooped up the poor bird to take it somewhere a bit more respectful for a while. No little boys at home any more to coo over the loss, and with whom to hold a ceremony. And just a patio with no land or space of dirt to dig a hole and bury it.
- Or the report card. The RT’s. One last stretch until the end of the semester. Until the end of his first year in high school. A decent report card– excellent in some areas (Biology), definite work needed in others (The Geometry Teacher’s Class). The report card felt more mine than his. What can I have done to support him more? How do we instill in him the need to engage? To connect the dots. To join the world of the practical. Maybe he has it right, and everyone else has it wrong. “RT, I really need you to hop up and down, pull your hair out, look generally miserable about school and stress out about everything that’s going on. You know?” It’s funny that when I remember being in ninth grade–and I do clearly–homework was insignificant, the assignments required little thought, and my classes were less than inspiring. I went every day, did what was expected of me, and spent almost no energy on any of it–but not consciously. So what am I complaining about?
My ultimate report card?
Today was weigh-in day for progress on my diet. I’m not feeling very svelte this morning, and it isn’t because of the wrecked hamstring in my left leg. There’s nothing to celebrate, that is unless I consider my health, and all that kind of good stuff often taken for granted. I’m back up about a pound. It must be Thursday night’s very reasonable portion of Chocolate Mousse–Banana Split Style which was so delicious I could have eaten all of it myself, but didn’t. Or pasta a couple of different ways over a couple of different days, or the pizza on Saturday when we were working like dogs, or the Eggs Baked in Cream yesterday morning…Whoa. Oh, and the wine. And the beer. Looks like I’ll have to pop that celery out of the veggie bin. Dinner needs to be on a smaller plate. And I probably don’t need sugar in my coffee.
On the brighter side of things, a few weeks back, I received a very pleasant review of my blog which I believe I neglected to share. In his review, Billy Mac said, “New kid on the block Kellementology is on the path to stardom. She has all the right who…what…where…and whens in order, her format is set up nicely and she posts on a regular basis. What else can you ask for from a blogger. Now it’s the waiting game to watch the blog blossom. Keep up the good work…keep the content as good a s it is…and good luck.” I swear I blushed when I read it.
Then, Confessions of a Former Bookworm anointed me with a Thinking Bloggers Award, and in very good company, as well. Perhaps it makes sense that I gave you all my pensive thoughts above to consider while I was thinking about it. Just sharing the thinking one post at a time, whomever, and where ever you are out there.
It’s a pretty diverse list, but the following people give me pause in their various regions of the blog world, sometimes like a cold splash of water, or others like the brush of tall grass in a gentle breeze. I discovered Wonderland or Not fairly recently. I like her edgy, witty point of view and general voice in whatever she writes–even though I have to scratch my head occasionally, and stew over it. And Dave, of course, at Wandering the Ether, who never fails to make me feel guilty for writing about American Idol, or the RT’s messy bedroom instead of societal issues that are perpetually swept under the rug. Or like Writing Under a Pseudonym whose writing on life and its trials is hauntingly beautiful at times, and so achingly sad others, that I feel as if I’m an intruder as I read, and don’t know how she makes it from one day to the next. I don’t read these blogs the same way, for the same length of time, or for the same reasons. I respond to one, and hover around the other two. They simply make me think each time I check on each of them. They coerce me into a world more serious than the one I’ve wanted to be a part of recently and I appreciate that.
So, in the spirit of thought, I’m off for my walk early today, to think. Free as a bird, listing to the left a bit, weighing more than I want, but ready to pound the streets in search of anything a bit less serious in Paradise. 
Because a bit of levity is good for the soul. Would you put this on your house? Really? Shhhhhh…..I’m thinking.
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