Sunday, August 14, 2011

Buckle Up, Nelly

This could be a doozy.

I have many well-intentioned things to share on the docket, but right now? I'm feeling like I just need to heave some burdens overboard. (And in this analogy, you'll find yourself somewhere in the water. Possibly in a life boat or other similarly small vessel, but in any case, you KNOW I wouldn't just leave you drowning in my analogy, beneath the heft of my burdens.)

1. I am sitting here alone, minding my own business, my honey on an 8-mile run, my babies tucked in bed. I am blissfully solo. And twice now - twice - I have been spooked out of my skin by wayward helium birthday balloons. The first offender was green. He shot up from the corner, unexpectedly, alight on a surprise updraft from the fan. It was...eerie. But I got over it. Several moments later, yellow lurched around me like the Sidler on Seinfeld. She just showed up, right over my shoulder. I jumped a little. They remind me somehow of lonely people moping about the room, these drifting balloons. Or maybe ghosts. As I sit typing, green is walzting around and occasionally dipping down to the floor. His partner is clearly a ghost, too, because I can't even see her.

2. My computer is fritzed. It happened last week. Maybe I mentioned it? I don't know. I don't really know anything about what I did or didn't do last week. It's a bit of a blur right now. All I remember is honking my horn for a really long time while a shady dude tried to run me down and pushing that "Help" button in an elevator for the first time in my life. I also remember a birthday party and picy cumbers and back-to-school shopping. But that's it. No wait, I do know one other thing: I know that I promised a guest post to a dear friend and completely spaced it. As in, I never wrote (much less submitted) the dang post. I realized it late last night, whilst tossing in my bed. I broke out in a momentary cold sweat. It was like a real life version of the nightmare I have where I show up for class having not realized that a ten-page paper is due. I'm sorry, Katie. Please accept my public mortification as a peace offering.

3. There's something very retro and freeing about being disconnected from the outside world all the live-long day. First it was my impromptu week of camp that had me blissfully unaware. And then the fritzing computer. What this means is that I have no internet access until roughly 8 pm each evening after the kids are in bed and I can fire up Cory's computer. And ya'll, I have a flip phone with two keys rubbed clean off, so you know that's no help. It's oddly calming...until I realize that I'm way behind on computerish things and that I'm officially a big fat blog slacker.

4. Also? I can't edit my photos. And now, a word on photo editing: I don't do it. Not really. For one thing, I hardly know how to take a picture much less edit one, but for another thing, I hold the philosophy that I want my pictures to reflect what I actually see. It's beautiful enough! I mean, it's the most beautiful ever. This world around us, this gift stretched to the horizons, all for us, every day, it needs no major touch ups. But I will admit, it could use just a hit or two of contrast and a glug of brightness. That's all. Until we sort through our electronic mess, we'll all just have to politely pardon the uncontrastiness. (Yep.)

5. I started re-writing the beginning of my book yesterday. Hallelujah. I was starting to fear that I was too long gone. It's hard to go from believing that you're almost done to knowing for sure that you're not even half there. But I jumped in, on a foreign computer, and I made myself start typing. I felt all twitchy and itchy, but I did it any way. It's not quite as bad as I thought it would be, but it's early.

6. I need to clarify something important and this seems like the right place and time: Robert and Fernando do not live with us. Haven does. The boys do not. I promise, I don't try to be vague on purpose. Well, sometimes I do. But mostly, I don't mean to be unclear. Having said that, Robert has thumped around in my heart in heavy-soled shoes for days on end. He's kept me praying. He's made it difficult for me to fall asleep at night. So he's basically like one of my own. I love him and I'm proud of him. I'm pleased as punch that he brings Fernando over for dinner when he comes each week. He's one of us.

7. Happy Birthday, Lando. I'll bet you thought we forgot.

8. Cory is back from his run and showered up. He's sitting to my left and I kid you not, he was just spooked out of his britches by the elusive, sneering green balloon. Twice.

Goodnight and God Bless.