Randomness

 Feel like writing tonight; don't know why, or about what.  My brain is just pinging around.  

What would it be like to live somewhere that delivered pizza?  Or any food, for that matter.  I'm at one of those stages that feeling hungry is annoying; I need to eat, and I just don't feel like it.  Even my collection of 15-minute meals seems like too much bother.  My local food truck took the weekend off.  Would be nice for someone else to produce food.

But then I stepped outside to put the chickens up and saw a a couple of deer and I wouldn't trade that for a pizza.  Cheese and crackers and an apple it is.

I'm tired - physically - and a little sore.  Yesterday I decided that my next weaving sample should be done on my table loom, which is in the back of a closet in my cottage, so the whole closet had to be emptied (and now gone through, sorted and tossed before it goes back in).  The loom is small, but heavy.

I wrote about doing the outside of the window.  Today I did the inside - which I thought would just be running a bead of caulk.  But years ago Bob realized that the metal bottom of the window was rusting out and put in a Plexiglas one (and a wooden base).  As I was pulling out some of the old caulk I realized the Plexiglas was sitting on a good bed of cat hair and spider webs, so I pulled it completely and scrubbed under it.  Then I put the plexi on a bed of caulk, let it dry with some books piled on it, and then caulked the edges.  All this done while balancing on the sink divider and leaning forward.  And I just now realized that I also should have run some vertical lines of caulk up the pains so the project is not quite through.

I cleaned the fishtank, which involves siphoning a few gallons of water into a bucket and then replacing it (a monthly job).  A few gallons of water is about 15 pounds to be dumped.

I fertilized the garden (my tomatoes, peppers, and cotton plants).  Two gallons at a time, so 8 pounds a watering can, about 8 can's worth.

So a little tired.  That's good.

But I've also been out of sorts today.  Lonely.  Maybe because of yesterday's feeling.  Maybe because it's a holiday weekend, or, in my world, a weekend like any other.  And followed by a Monday like any other.  Except that I'll probably sit on the back deck come nightfall and watch some fireworks that people are shooting off and listen the sounds of parties.

I find myself having strange fantasies - like sitting in a coffeeshop talking with someone.  Having a conversation.

Was bothered by a weird dream last night.  There were a bunch of women in my cottage - only it wasn't my cottage, just sort of a plain vanilla living room.  They were discussing what could be done with it.  I was asking them what the hell they were doing there and they were there to fix things up for me, to help me, to do something for me.  Finally I was yelling at them to get out - they didn't know me, they didn't know anything about me, and at last screaming "Do you know my name?" (They didn't.)

I wonder if that had anything to do with the kids wanting me to go on the cruise, to do something besides sit and home and work at the Museum.  But a cruise?  Seriously, do they know me?

Sometimes I really wish for an invitation someone - to go to a movie, to go for coffee, (I'd really like to try an escape room but that's a weird thing to do alone).  I'm tired of being the one reaching out (and when I do, the other person usually is busy or whatever).   But then I realized I've gotten two invitations in as many weeks, and turned them down.  One was for the cruise.  The other was an invitation for a reception/cocktail party for people who have donated money to the museum.  After we got the new aviary put in, it was realized that the necessary removal of the trees meant that the birds were roasting.  I donated money so some sail-style shade cloths could be installed.  This shindig was for members of the habitat club and museum donors.

Well, one - I'm not a cocktail party sort of girl.  I don't even own any cocktail attire (when I think of cocktail dresses I think of the 50's styles that my mother work).  And I wouldn't have been able to have any real cocktails because I'm not driving home in the dark after having alcohol.  I like the parties we have from time to time at the museum - a taco bar, and maybe a fire to make s'mores.  But not a cocktail party because I'm a donor.  I'd feel that my wallet was being invited, not me.

Final dump of the evening.  I did look back on my blog a year ago.  I was writing about how I like to think about 2022 self looking back, giving encouragement, telling 2021 self that things were better now.  Well, that hasn't panned out too well - a year later and everything is basically the same.  (I just looked at the numbers - our *reported* Covid cases are just at 20 time higher than they were at April).  In fact, I think I was more coherent and lucid a year ago.  I am possibly more tired by now.

But the Museum is tomorrow and that always helps.  And for now, I'll head off to bed and my sheets.  I haven't written about my sheets yet.  It was my indulgence for last year - linen sheets.  Not just bed linens in name, but the real thing.  They deserve their own post.  But how many people genuinely love their sheets?  I do.  Sometimes during the day I can't resist and go lie down for a few minutes, just to wrap myself up.

But now I'm really rambling.  Bedtime.