So there

I'm not doing dishes today, and I'm ok with that.

I'm squeezing my thumbs for you

What can I do?  It has to come out; I can't keep it bottled inside any longer.

On Thursday, Germany plays Italy in the semifinals of Euro 2012 to determine who will challenge Spain for the Cup.  I'm a mass of jangling nerves, a tangle of crossed digits, bursting with blooming pride for this young but talented side.  My heart goes with you, brave men!  Ich drucke dir die Daumen!

Of nudges... and shoes

Nudges.  Nudges happen all the time, don't they? It might happen that the same topic keeps coming up in conversations without your prompting - travelling to Italy, say, or medical checkups. Every book you read for months makes some mention of jauntering off to Tuscany, or averting a medical crisis through a well-timed doctor's visit.  Those are nudges.  It's time to finally take that long-dreamed of trip to Italia, or stop procrastinating and book an appointment to see your doctor.  God uses the material we give Him.

I've been nudged before, so I knew what was happening a few days ago when I found myself in a random conversation with a person I met in a very random way. This person was sticking in my life when I had been quite sure it was more of a "Hi, nice to meet you... never see you again" sort of thing. It might be that conversation a few days ago is why they stuck - there was a nudge on the way.

You recognize the nudge when it comes because you've been mulling over that very subject, maybe trying to come to a decision about that very thing, or maybe it's something you know you should do, but are putting it off.  The nudge helps you along.

There is a thing that has been a background theme in my life. (I don't mean to sound coy, honest.  I'll be more forthcoming when I don't feel so selfconscious about it.) I wondered if its time had come when the new home and new job fell into place, and my sister said the same thing shortly before I left Sohoe. Then came a second random conversation about this very thing, in which random person number two literally came in the room and point blank told me it was time. Repeatedly.  That's quite a nudge!

So, I'm taking steps.  I'm not actually basking under the Tuscan sun yet, or sitting in the doctor's waiting room, but I've set my feet on the path.  Well, ok... maybe not quite yet.  But I've finally decided what shoes I'm going to wear on the journey.

Cole Porter knew of what he sang

when he sang, "It's too darned hot."

He wasn't crooning of matters meteorological, of course, but weather wise, his words are pretty apt.  We've just had a four or five day hot spell, and yesterday there was a hot weather advisory, in which the government officially informs its citizens it is hot outside.

I have to tell you something, Reader dear: I am not a nice person in hot weather.  In fact, I become downright cranky. And my hair becomes voluminous, which makes me a mean and frizzy-headed girl.  I'm not proud of it, but those are the facts.

Today, most happily, while it is still on the warm side, is entirely without the humidity factor.  Hoorah!  I have been restored to myself, able to do more than brush my teeth without falling prostrate before the oscillating fan.  I slept late this morning (bliss!) and woke full of ambition and the vigour to carry it out.  Never have I been so happy to do laundry, clean the bathroom, do floors, and cook the books.  I'm even cleaning my brushes.  I am in homekeeping heaven!

It's De-Lovely.

Fabulous

I did it!  I always knew it was possible, but this is the very first time I ever managed to do it.

I am going away for the weekend, and I have packed only one bag.  One smallish, toss-your-toothbrush-in-and-go sized bag. There is a wonderful feeling of accomplishment in this moment.  I'm tempted to document this photographically for generations to come who will question that such a thing ever happened.

The secret?  To not plan for every eventuality. Such as: what would I wear if I happened to bump into Chris Cornell on the street and he invited me to an intimate acoustic performance of his entire songbook? And what if I happened to be chased by a bear while on the way to said acoustic performance? Or, what if the two books I'm currently reading aren't quite what I feel like reading while I'm away for 24 hours?  I'd better pack this one as well.  Oh, and this crossword puzzle book, and bring my little bag of crocheting. Probably my journal and a couple notebooks, too. Maybe that 87 page article on the new system of bibliographic control soon to replace MARC coding that I've been meaning to read since 2008?  I don't want to be bored, you know!

Newly acquired efficiency in packing aside, the best part is that I'm going to spend the weekend with two of my favourite people, and the doing of it entails a road trip.  Don't you love a road trip?  There will be music, there will be laughter, and there will be snacks. (Not included in the above mentioned piece of luggage.  Snacks don't count for accounting purposes.)  It will be fabulous, darling.

Fluffing the nest

If you had all the time and resources necessary, would you indulge in tweaking your home? Fluffing your nest?

I would!  Nothing extravagant you understand. Not over the top, no outlandishly expensive gold-flocked commodes.  My aim is comfort and convenience wrapped up in pretty.

Now, pretty is in the eye of the beholder. I, for example, prefer simple and sparkle, while a friend of mine likes country chic with a lot of home made crafty touches. My mom reads glossy European design mags (which I inhale whenever I visit) while someone else may glean inspiration from the IKEA catalogue (much of my home is sponsored by the good folks with the blue and yellow flag).

I am in the process of fluffing my nest which at this point means taking my belongings out of boxes after four years and figuring out where they belong.  It feels like Christmas, pulling away the newspaper wrapped carefully around some precious object, exclaiming, "Oh! I forgot about this... how pretty it is!", or, "Oh.  What is this?"

Oddly enough, I have not unpacked any towels or pots and pans. I'm not sure now if I ever had any, or what I've done with them since first packing up. I do, however, have plenty of candles and candle holders, and an entire cupboard full of tea cups and tea pots. Not hard to tell what my priorities are!

Several times a week I venture out to a new dollar store or hardware store to look for some essential thing - like a can opener (I've had dreams in which I hear myself saying, "But I don't have a can opener" in great despair.) and inevitably come home with... another candle.

Testing the waters

The waters are rocky at the moment.  I've been without internet service for two weeks. There was tension between hankering for it, and feeling relief at not having it at my continual beck and call.  Or do I mean being at the beck and call of it?  To my delight, the new modem arrived in the mail Thursday evening - just in time for the Euro 2012 to begin on Friday (yes, that would be a footie reference) but in the course of a lovely online chat with my sister-in-arms, Sarah, I discovered that I cannot access blogger, for some reason.  Every other account and application seems to be working peachy keen, but blogger insists on telling me I've logged out from another location and do I want to log in again?  However I answer that question, I end up in a twilight zone-like loop, getting the same question over and over.  I've spent the past two days (as much as work and sanity would allow) Googling, Binging, and help foruming in an attempt to discover what I am doing wrong, or what I am not doing right.

So, while I am full to bursting with things I want to say, I am unable to say them!  I remain bottled.  Perhaps I am meant to continue is cyber-less silence yet a while.

If this emailing-a-post trick works, I want to let you know that all is well in the world of work and home.  It is feeling more and more like where I belong all the time.

Hope all is well with you,

Tess.