Collection

The idea of collection has certain implications. One may have many dust bunnies and it doesn’t mean one collects dust bunnies, now does it? Imagine if you will, a person whose dust bunnies are displayed proudly…

I’ve decided I’m not a collector of anything.
There are certain people to whom you cannot say you’re collecting something or they will gift you related items you do not want.

I cannot deny I often acquire Fiesta(ware) but I only like certain colors.

I have three Norman Rockwell prints and I’d love to have more, but again, specific titles.

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There’s no shortage of books, herbal tea, odd socks, or kids’ art at our house, either.


We have a ton of movies and music.

We’re still in possession of all the Legos…but one day Bubba will establish a household.

The Mister must have more blades than any ten-handed goddess of war, but I don’t know if he’s collecting them so much as they just come to him…the way fabric and paper seem to come to me.

Are you a collector? You can tell me.

Just Jot it January is brought to you by LindaGHill
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JusJoJan & SoCS — The Long What

What do I wanna write?
Hm. Maybe just some rambling. It’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday and I do feel a bit purge-y.

I put my canvas slip-on shoes away and I’ve rubbed oil into my skin and my bottom lip is split like winter’s really here.
But it’s not, because I went out yesterday in my jacket and carried an umbrella and had a fucking panic attack.

I was perfectly happy.

I had slept until 9:30. I had eaten a bowl of Marshmallow Mateys and had a cuppa coffee and big ol glass of orange juice. No, YOU have PMS and want sugar on top of salt with a side of sex and some bloody red meat! I had already done my bloggity things and my photo of the day — Go me!

You can tell a lot about me from how I look, and I don’t mean whether I look happy or sad or whatever, but like, I was wearing my yellow quilted jacket, which is synonymous with happiness because yellow and quilts are my favorites and the fact that I needed the jacket represents how pleased I was that it wasn’t hot and I don’t live in Georgia, where it was some ridiculous temperature like 70. Had my striped scarf on, you know, cause scarves are the kinda thing I can manage to accessorize without feeling like I’m overdone. I made up my face cause it was the first day in 12 that I didn’t have a big red mark over my lip, cause holidays are so carefree and fun that I wouldn’t dream of getting one of my infamous cold sore flares, so it was good to slide some Angel Red across my non-herpetic lips like a healthy human. My hair curled up, but it didn’t frizz or expand too much despite the rain. Not a lot can go wrong when a woman’s hair is right. There is nothing like a good hair day.

Got into Bonnie Blue, turned on Annie Lennox, cause when I’m alone, I try to listen to all the music the rest of my family is not crazy about. Sang my way to Aldi.
A nice man gave me a cart which saved me a quarter. Eggs were $1.49 a dozen; I bought two cartons.
A young woman asked me what the difference was between zucchini and cucumbers, and that’s kinda hard to explain, but ultimately I decided that zucchini is yummier when cooked, cucumber is yummier raw, and suggested she should buy some of both and try it out. Then imagined how a person wouldn’t know what either is like, and this led me to thinking about that roommate I had in college, the home-schooled one who had never watched television, because her parents thought it was evil, and I wondered if this girl’s parents thought garden vegetables were evil.
I let the lady behind me cut, because she had only broccoli and bananas and she was my elder and I had a cart full. But my cart cost $10 less than I expected and I was pretty freakin happy while I bagged my things. I was also happy that unlike the man The Mister let in front of us last time, the lady I let go didn’t come back and whisper a dirty joke in my ear instead of saying thank you like a decent human being.
I took my cart back and slid it in, but left it unlocked to save someone else a quarter. As I left, I saw a lady push it in and take the quarter from it, as well as from the one in front of it. Initially, this upset me, as this was not my intention, but then I decided Fine, if she needed two quarters, she needed two quarters, who am I to complain?

Then  I drove to the bloody buggery Walmart Neighborhood Market because Aldi doesn’t have everything. Like, why did they stop carrying my seltzer?!? Where are those savory frozen pizzas with the goat cheese and basil?!?  Tangy warm goat cheese makes me drool. So, yeah, I hadda go to another grocer.  I listened to Les Mis on the way, cause boy does my family hate that. I’m a good Eponine, not that they give a fuck about Eponine’s troubles.

Parked Bonnie Blue at the back, because they’re building something else over there now, probably something terrible, like another Walmart Neighborhood Market, only with longer lines and without any employees whatsoever, and the only way out of the parking lot is on Fall Creek Parkway (told you I drive on it all the time) and I do not enjoy trying to turn left twice in 10 seconds.
I’m still bitter about the arrival of the bloody buggery Walmart Neighborhood Market, because it literally took the place of our favorite Chinese restaurant and one of the best markets in the city. Fuckers. The pond is still there, but it’s overrun with Canadian Geese. I never see a duck over there anymore. Why are people in Canada so nice and their geese assholes? Besides, when we fed the ducks and asshole geese it was in an idyllic time when we let the children hurl cheap white bread at them and no one was there to shame us and tell us that water fowl are gluten-intolerant or whatever, like how my parents made us have birdseed at our wedding instead of rice, and clearly favored the gastrointestinal issues of birds over their own child’s fertility. No rice for us. I blame those birds for how it took us three years to conceive. Maybe birds have to explode to encourage baby souls, you don’t know.
But they’re building a Meijer at 56th and Keystone, so that’s exciting, although I bet it will be a duck-less venue.

Panic. They should just call it PanicMart, am I right?
oh did the car just move? omg, it’s vertigo! noooo! oh no my heart is going to pop out and go through the windshield. i don’t think our insurance covers that. it’s okay joey, you’ll be dead. won’t matter. oh. oh no, my neck is swelling! can’t breathe. oh for fuck’s sake joey, snap out of it! you’re okay. it’s just anxiety. you’re okay. i’m dying. you’re okay. i’m dying. you’re okay. yes, it’s raining but the roads are fine and it’s daylight and your husband knows where you are and you are going to live through this. one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, but my head is about to fall off, four mississippi, five mississippi, deep breaths, you’re getting better. see you’re fine. six mississippi. that wasn’t so bad, now was it?
oh look, it’s after three. moo must be home.

I used to get to like 29 Mississippi, but I’ve gotten better, so now I’m all patronizing and condescending to myself like you don’t know what.

SoCS and Just Jot it January are both brought to you by LindaGHill and all the cool prompts sit at her lunch table

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Leadership

Me on Leadership: I lead only when I have to.

Then I begrudge the incompetence of others and resent being forced to leave my comfort zone.

I don’t like to lead. I don’t like to follow. I prefer to march to the beat of my own drum.

I will understand you, support you, encourage you, inspire you, and even help you (if I like you enough) but if you like me enough, you won’t ask me to lead.

Unless you’re this big:

fourFOUR

If you’re that big, I’ll lead as necessary, no problem.

Just Jot it January is brought to you by LindaGHill
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What are your thoughts and feelings on leadership?

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#ThursdayDoors — Julian-Clarke Home

Last week I showed you my pictures of the Irvington Presbyterian Church, and I’m staying in Irvington again this week. Irvington is a historical neighborhood in Indianapolis, Indiana.

Here are the doors on the Julian-Clarke house:

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Too blurry? I know, I didn’t want to trespass, either…
Step back:

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Step back s’more:

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Ooh! Pretty!

 

12. GEORGE W. JULIAN-CLARKE HOME, 115 S. AUDUBON RD (EASTSIDE OF AUDUBON, NORTH OF FORMER RAILROAD CROSSING): Italianate, 1873, built by George W. Julian, brother of Irvington co-founder Jacob Julian. An ardent abolitionist, Free Soil Party nominee for Vice President of the United States, a founder of the Republican Party, and United States Representative from Wayne County, IN, Julian championed homestead legislation. served on the Committee on the Conduct of the War, and authored the first bill providing for women’s suffrage. While residing in Irvington, he was appointed Surveyor General of New Mexico. His daughter, Grace, married Charles Clarke. Both were influential on the social issues of the day. Grace was active in the organization of the Federation of Women’s Clubs and wrote a colunln in THE INDIANAPOLIS STAR. Charles was active in the Democratic Party and served a term in the Indiana State Senate. Over the decades of the Julian-Clarke residency, they hosted such persons of note as Susan B. Anthony, Sojourner Truth, and Presidents Cleveland, .Harrison and Wilson.
(The Irvington Historical Society)

*whispers in your ear* Don’tcha hate it when you hafta cite poorly written stuffs? Also, look how this Republican cared about abolition and suffrage! Then his daughter up and married a Democrat, how smart women do.

#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To view other interesting doors, click the link and see what others are posting today.

This post also serves as a jot for Just Jot it January via LindaGHill

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Just Jotting about Sacrifice

When I discovered the topic for today was sacrifice, I said to Sassy, “I’m going to write a blog post like ‘I have been sacrificing all my time for Just Jot it January,’ and just be all ‘Bye!'”
We laughed.
It’s not sacrifice, because as you know, I enjoy interacting with y’all.

giraffe-computer

But as we all wandered to the back of the house to retire last night, The Mister asked me, “Do I have some clean white socks somewhere?”
“Yes.”
Yes, of course he does. Because all of the clean socks are in a basket.
were ya gonna wait and match’em in february, joey? i dunno, maybe.

Sacrifice is not my thing.
I’ll have a head full of words while I do the dishes, take them sledding, walk the dog, sign the reading log, make the dinner, do the dishes — and I’ll think I’m sacrificing, but then my husband is white-sock-less and Sadie’s got a clump of dreadlocks behind her ear and the sink could use a good scouring and Moo’s outta dental floss and well…

Bye!

Just Jot it January is brought to you by LindaGHill

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Just Jotting Share Your World 2016 #2

1. Do you believe in extraterrestrials or life on other planets?

Yes, of course. You almost kinda have to, don’tcha? It seems unlikely that we’d be the only planet with intelligent, sentient beings. Maybe they’re just like us, maybe they’re lil green men, maybe they’re space unicorns. My mind is open.


2.
 How many places have you lived? You can share the number of physical residences and/or the number of cities.

Oh boy. Lemme get some scrap paper and I’ll get back with you.

I’ve lived at 24 different addresses in 42 years, 29 if you count the residences of my mother when I did not live with her full-time. I had weekend rooms there, I’m pretty sure those count.
Fun Fact #1 With my mother, I lived on the same road twice, two houses apart.
Fun Fact #2 Drew, Tori, HME and I all lived in the same apartment complex.
Fun Fact #3 I lived with the same guy twice — once as a boyfriend and then, 7 years later, not.
I’ve lived in one dorm (two rooms, same address) nine apartments, four townhouses, and the rest were homes.
I’ve lived in seven cities, six in Indiana and one in Georgia.
gee, it’s no wonder i don’t wanna move, huh?

3. If you were given $22 million tax free dollars (any currency), what is the first thing you would do?

Make a really, really long and thoughtful list. We all have one, don’t we? I’ve never put mine on paper.

4. The Never List: What are things you’ve never done? Or things you know you never will do?

I contend that one should never say never. Life is full of surprises. I’ll tell you one thing; I don’t play Never Have I Ever anymore, because I always end up smashed. #drunkernaskunk
I see now they’ve made it into a board game for those of us who are more Boy Have I Ever. This likely prevents a lot of alcohol poisoning.

5. Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I’m grateful I finally had a day alone. It was so quiet. This weekend coming up celebrates the day I met my husband, 29 years ago, so we’ll probably talk about that for two minutes and then fall asleep before we even kiss one another goodnight. Maybe I’ll bake a pineapple upside-down cake or something else the children don’t care for.

vintage joey

drew made this for me

 

I’m participating in Cee’s Share Your World questionnaire for Just Jot it January, both are open to all who’d like to join.

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Effortless

Today’s Just Jot it January prompt is effortless, which I’m happy to say, actually is. (Thanks for the great prompt, Dan!)

I grew up among three industrious parents and between them, I was subjected to a large menu of their effortless abilities. Which means, I suppose by default, I can do a lot of things with minimal effort.
I really do try to keep this blog under 1000 words, so I tried to devise a list of things none of my parents can do…and I think they’d all agree, none of them can leap tall buildings in a single bound…or maybe they do, and they just don’t tell me about it because there’s math involved.

I present to you the list of things I do effortlessly:

1. Write.
For me, writing is easier than speaking and I speak well with some effort. I feel good when I write.
Speaking is letting people look at me and being expected to respond appropriately and instead saying something awkward and incoherent while making bizarre faces at them.
I should clarify, that’s how I feel.
I write this like I’m some sorta bumbling social idiot, which I am not, having taught, having worked a great deal with the public, having been on the speech team and in debates, having never been marked “Needs to participate more in class” on my report cards. I can talk to anyone, anywhere, but I’d rather not. It’s excruciating and exhausting. I’d much rather write.

2. Worry.
If worrying bore weight, I would need a crane to hold my head up.
Present to me the most benign settings and I will point out to you all the things about which you should be worried.
The world is filled with danger.
My heart is on my sleeve and in my throat and made of glass. From bits of control, I fashion extensive fortresses of protection so that people can come at me like a wrecking ball.

3. Cook.
If I can taste it, I can cook it. Some people can play by ear, I can cook by mouth.
Now and again, I don’t know if it’s yogurt or sour cream, or if it’s cardamom or ginger and cinnamon, but unless it’s baking, I usually don’t need a recipe to recreate it.

4. Art
I’m not saying I’m good at drawing, painting, etc, but I’m not bad at it, and it’s easy for me. Lemme doodle you a doodad.

doodle_dot

my mother must have a stack of these doodles…

5. Teach
If I understand it, I can teach it. Or, if I need a 6-week position as a middle school math teacher, I can learn it well enough to teach it. And maybe that one really smart kid will enjoy showing us how he got the answer to the bonus question, because X is Your Mom, Algebra.

There you have it, my five effortless abilities.

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Just Jot it January is brought to you by LindaGHill

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Snow Sanity

Like so many other places, we’ve been experiencing such mild, autumnal temperatures, it hasn’t felt much like winter at all.

The Mister woke me with, “You got your winter wonderland.”

As soon as I opened the curtains, Cletus the Dog Kitten jumped up to bat at the snow.

cletus_snow

Old Man Winter has finally come to his senses.

Just Jot it January is brought to you by LindaGHill

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Title — Where do the Cheetahs fit in?

I woke up on the right side of the bed, but with not enough covers, which I think is because my husband uses blanket stealing to subliminally lure me to his side of the bed so that he can wrap me in the blazing inferno that is his body.
I’m not sayin I’m grumpy, I’m just sayin this prompt had me like Wha? and then I read some today and I just don’t fucking know, and I am reminded of being in school, where teachers gave vague ideas of what they wanted so we could brainstorm and come up with something clever and unique, or so they could avoid teaching, and then when someone turned in just the right thing, they’d hold it up and say, “This! This is what I wanted!” and we’d all sit there like That? and we’d roll our eyes and sublimate our spite with fastidious notes on how some teachers really do teach because they cannot do.

But whatever, that bit right there was definitely the stream of consciousness about which every writing teacher dreams.
Title is my jot, and I shall jot to you of my recent run-in with title.

I got Adele’s new 25 cd for Xmas. Sassy and I have grown quite fond of Track 2. That’s all the help my car is: Track 2. For all the things this car does, you’d think it could recognize titles, but alas, it does not.
So, we love Track 2 and we listen to it over and over and over and we open-mouth hum mostly, because we do not know the words. One day, I ask Sassy, “What the hell is the chorus?” Sassy doesn’t know. I say Imma hafta look it up.
I’m talkin Bob Dylan, “Louie, Louie,” beginning of “Scar Tissue” level of indecipherable wtfness here.

The Mister told me that Sassy kept pushing the buttons and putting it back on Track 2. I said, “I love that 2nd track, too, but what is she goin on about?”
He didn’t know.
I’d swear the chorus is like send my love to ya lil lovelighter and somethin about cheetahs.

So when The Mister and I got into the car later, he turned the song on and gave it his best try. I had this brilliant idea that maybe, if we looked at the case, we’d see the title of the song and so we did. It’s “Send My Love to Your New Lover” and that’s exactly what she’s singing. Turns out cheetah is actually treat her.

chorus_of_what

Huh.
You know, that makes sense.

Reading titles can be helpful — as is enclosing lyrics, but I often feel that went out with record jackets.

 

Just Jot it January and SoCS are both brought to you by the ever clever LindaGHill

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Like Looking for Four-Leaf Clovers

Today’s prompt is honorable.
Kinda funny sentence, isn’t it? Like, does that mean the other prompts are corrupt?

In truth, I never thought much about honor until I’d been married for a spell, because The Mister uses the word honor so often, I feel like honor stirs my morning coffee and tucks me into bed at night. Maybe it does, you don’t know.

Previously, I’d been one to put honor and integrity next to one another, like the morality twins. Although they often travel together in the best people, they’re not twins.

Being honorable is a complicated task that requires steadfast dedication.

The hero is honorable, yeah? He often comes with other words like valor and glory, but he never seeks those words, because to do so would not be honorable.

As students of literature can tell you, even the most venerable heroes must be careful not to take on pride, even in their honor. Being honorable requires great humility and sacrifice, which is why honor is far more common as a verb than as a noun, and honorable, a rarity.

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Just Jot it January is brought to you by LindaGHill

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