Hiya, folks. I've been busy with the back and side yards, plus ruminating through my own internal collection of distractions. I guess you could say I've been more social lately than usual, with the result being that it's great to have contact with the larger world but when the day of mirth ends or the conversation that made me smile concludes, I slip into a little bit of a funk because I wish the mirth and conversation could go on and on... it's all very addictive when life is too quiet and sparcely populated.
As the old song says, "I had too much to think last night." But sometimes I channel that energy into shovelling and putting up edging, as today's progress photo shows. I dug out the path, laid down an inch or so of gravel, and added sand to hold that in place. The original plan for today was that we were going to get outside with a roller which Paige's coworker was going to bring over and get the gravel/sand you see tamped down; the next step will be to put stepping stones on this path, add more gravel and sand to hold them in place, and work on the areas around the boxes with dirt and stuff... just noticed an hour ago the two flats of Corsican mint I bought for that area is dying of thirst. Anyhow, the roller in question rusted solid so it wasn't brought over, thus tomorrow we'll get a different tool ourselves to compress the path because we didn't get out of our jammies today. The tomatoes and squash and pumpkin starts are there looking healthy but not really getting larger; the pea and bean and lettuce/spinach seeds have germinated and when kept damp enough the leafies' sprouts don't go flaccid by noon (this keeps happening!). That's my third of July, when plenty of people got the day off because no one likes having a holiday fall on a weekend so they don't get that extra day of slacking off. I don't have fourth of July plans.
Many years around this time I bring up that I went to a Methodist summer camp for a week every year in my teen years to try to bring some fellowship and spirit into my life, recharge my internal batteries, be around people on the same wavelength, remove my mind from the noise it perpetually had running through it, hopefully find something close to the heart, and of course get the hell away from my family and that hot dusty town for awhile. I have mentioned in the past that I miss the camp because I lack the escape from the noise in my head, and lack that kind of fun and fellowship. But since this blog is about everyday stupidities, there are two things about the progression of time that bother me. (Okay, there's a lot
about the progression of time that bother me, but specific to the camp thing.) First, the camp system offered weekend retreats for young adults between 18 and 30 as a way of helping the post-teenagers find their centers and faith again... and never in that span of my life did I ever attend. Second, I always swore when I was a camper that I would "give back" by coming back as a counselor... have never made an effort to get back into the church, demonstrate any sort of youth leadership, etcetera with which to apply myself to be a counselor. And I am fully aware that both of those shortcomings are my own doing.
Until next time...