10 Confessions

I am reading a book called The Encyclopedia of Ordinary Life, a unique memoir by Amy Krouse Rosenthal. As one of her "B" entries she writes her thoughts on "Busy". She points out that when we are asked what we are doing as a child we always say "nothing" and then (I would say when we discover the false emotion of guilt) when asked, we suddenly switch to saying how busy we are. We are all so busy. yep. we truly are. But always? So. And why is it not ok to say that we are not?

It made me realize that I had done that here, on my blog, where I am usually so transparent. I implied in my last post that I was so busy that I didn't have the time to write in depth about all that happened on our two week road trip. Not so true. I was busy getting over a sore throat. I did a bunch of laundry (not exactly time-consuming now that we have machines). I was busy watching a movie, a really sad one - Incendiary- in the middle of the day, by myself (not something I ever do) one day this week when I was feeling blue.

I have also been busy making lists of things I want to be busy doing - buying a canner and canning, freezing, painting more walls, building a studio in our back yard and then dancing in it, adding more light to my kitchen, revisiting the book I wrote. I will do all of these things(probably not the studio). But not right now.

I am doing those things that are asked and needed of me by my children - taking them to baseball games and practice, playing all kinds of games with them, researching the Geo-Bee and Hindi (Jesse's newest interests). But, really, I'm not so busy.

SO, when I read about this confessional tag on Julie's blog - I was primed for it.

I am afraid that those long paragraphs you just read were not my ten confessions, just the intro. I haven't blogged in a while and am not feeling brief.

1. I think my children hung the moon and stars. This doesn't mean I don't think yours did too.
2. I bought myself a very cool shirt in NY, silky and off the shoulders and with skulls on it. A few days later, I left it in the hotel room in Virginia Beach. My confession is that I have rationalized this bozo move on my part by imagining that the cleaning lady who found my perfect shirt will wear it to a party and, because of its allure, will then meet the man of her dreams - a good man. That's the only way I can live with having done this. sigh.
3. When the hair dresser asked the kids yesterday if they may want short hair, I wished upon all that is holy to me that they would say yes. (They did. They love it.)
4. In my mind's eye, when I dance in my kitchen (or bathroom or hallway) I still have it. I have the legs and brilliance of Natalia Makarova (my favorite Russian dancer back in the day).
5. Some days, I ache that I can't find the perfect words to express a feeling. Other days, I'm happy if I can remember the name of everyone and everything I see.
6. I am not a great home maker. I cook. I clean. But I am not overly impressive in these areas. I admire those that are.
7. There is a certain mildewy smell that makes me happy. It brings me back to Camp Merrie-Wood overnight camp. I smelled it last night while leaning against a fence and I look forward to being there again.
8. I have a mail thing. I buy the gift and wrap the gift and make the card (and sometimes even make the gift) but I have a block about getting it into a mailer or box and then a bigger block about getting it the post office. It's ridiculous. I'm giving this up, right now! My niece Zoe turn two today and her gift is sitting on my dining room table. She lives in Australia. She'll be 2 1/2 by the time it gets there.
9. I have a phone thing. I won't pick up the phone to call you unless your house is burning down and I know that no one else sees this. But that won't be you as those neighbors whom I can see would not be reading my blog. They may be sitting on their porches staring our way (shudder) but not reading here - I hope. I do love talking to you when you call me. But I am better with e-mail.
10. I hate when I am long-winded. If you choose to do this tag, and I hope you do and tell me so, I hope that you are long-winded as well.