Thursday, September 20, 2018

Procrastination, thy name is Donna

I've always been a go-with-the-flow kind of person.  I take the easier and more enjoyable way whenever possible, so of course I make deadlines I don't meet or goals that I know when I make them aren't going to happen.  Life's just a bowl of cherries, right?  So surely my readers didn't think I was serious when I typed something in my last entry from four days ago saying I'd be back the next day.  Right?  

OK, my intentions are good, but now that I'm footloose and fancy-free not babysitting, Cliff seems to find more places to drive.  Tuesday we had to drive to Oak Grove about some prescriptions.  Yesterday we got in the car after our dinner at noon, heading to Holden to check on a batwing mower on Craigslist (he bought it).  Today we picked up granddaughter Heather at the automotive place where she took her car, went by Cliff's sister's house long enough to say hello, then came home until 11:30, when it was time for me to get a haircut.  Of course, on any of these days I had plenty of time to do a blog entry.  But I procrastinate.

This morning I went in the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and said to Cliff, "I need to unload the dishwasher."  I opened up the door, grabbed four plates, shut the dishwasher door, put the plates in the cabinet, and said, "Well, that's a start."

And I sat down to drink my coffee. 

That's pretty much how I approach every day.  I'm not even ashamed.  Somebody has to be in this world to make you Suzie Homemaker ladies look better, so I'm just doing my job.  Gabe feels pretty good about all the car rides we're taking him on, though.  Any little local trips where we aren't planning to eat out or do any heavy shopping, he gets to "go with" now.  I make him stay mostly in the back seat, although I do let him stand with his front feet between me and Cliff.  He likes to stand, looking down the road, as though he's riding shotgun.  And praise be, he hasn't gotten carsick for a long, long time.     

I still have hummingbirds around; when the cold front hits tonight, perhaps that will encourage them to move on.  I walked out the back door today and saw a small flock of bluebirds.  Those beauties have become a favorite of mine.  Before we moved back here to the trailer house, I don't recall ever noticing a bluebird, although to be honest, I wasn't looking for them.  First of all I put a concrete birdbath in the yard, since that had been suggested as a way to attract bluebirds.  It worked, too.  But the concrete birdbath was so hard to keep free of that green algae, and impossible to dump out because it was so heavy.  So I gave up on it and got a bluebird house for Cliff to put on a fence post; ever since then, there's been no lack of bluebirds around here.    

The weathermen on TV have been teasing us with promises of a much-needed cold front bringing in some much-needed rain, but now they've taken the promise of rain almost completely out of the picture.  That's how our whole summer has gone.  And that's all I'll say about that, because if I don't change the subject, I'll get depressed thinking about the drought.  My mom often told stories about the drought during the first years of her marriage in the thirties, and after the past summer, I almost feel as though I can relate.  However, we don't HAVE to have a garden in order to eat, and that makes a huge difference in how we fare.  Mother told about the wife of the farmer she and Daddy worked for giving them some potatoes that were left in the ground until they had frozen (probably the littler ones) and also some dried pole beans that had been planted in with the corn, and climbed up the stalks for poles.  Mother said that's mostly what they lived on that winter, along with gravy made with water instead of milk.  Hard times, folks.  When they got married my sister Maxine (age 5) joined them.  Mother made dresses for her out of her own old, worn-out dresses.   They also had a lot of canned goods Mother's mom gave them as a wedding gift.  And Daddy would hunt rabbits, but I think they sold more of them than they ate themselves.  Honestly, meat was never a big priority with my parents; they could take it or leave it, throughout their lives.

We won't talk about the "no air conditioners" problem of the 30's.  

Hard times, folks.  Hard times.  We who didn't live through it can't even imagine.  

Peace.  I'll refrain from promising to be back tomorrow,  But I SHALL return. 

5 comments:

  1. I have a hard time keeping up with my blog because I procrastinate also. The only time our Schnauzer paid any attention to what was going on outside the car was when I pulled up next to the pasture where there were cows and said "cows" and then she went ballistic. Otherwise, she just curled up in the seat. Yours has grown up into a very nice looking dog. Imiss our little Mollywog very much. I hope we can find another Schnauzer some day.

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  2. I write a lot when I feel the urge, and then go silent for a while. I can't force myself to blog when I don't have anything much to say. It seems like it's in the bad times that I have the most words, which is a shame. We're finally getting some rain, much needed!

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  3. i don't blog as much as i used to either. your day excursions sound like fun.

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  4. I still try to blag every day. Sometimes I miss but if I am home, I try to keep blogging. My family keeps track of me that way.

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  5. Going with the flow is a great way to live. I've been doing much the same since I retired. I have no set schedule for anything. I love the picture of your little dog in the car. He is adorable. Yes the days of the great depression were terrible and we couldn't imagine what it must have been like. My folks told many stories of what their families went through at the time. Thanks for sharing yours.

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