“I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel.”
Last Friday I had to be in Chattanooga, Tennessee, at 7:45 a.m. our time. Anxious for the trip, because I hate driving to Chattanooga, I left the house at 5:30. It was dark outside, and the stars were still bright. My eyes were dry from waking so early.
Last week I was at my parents’ house. The boy was out playing with his cousin and I said I wish they’d come back to the house. I don’t like to be out after dark. I can’t drive over 45, and the cars behind me don’t seem to like it.
The week of celebrated gluttony is upon us. Of course, as of late I have partook in gluttony just for gluttony’s sake — pizza, Chinese, Mexican buffet for the first time in two years. If anyone knows a hypnotist I can see about what my mother refers to as an eating demon, please let me know.
A month or two ago, while coasting down Cedar Hill drive, I caught part of an NPR show and they were talking about small town newspapers. I turned the volume up and told the boy to tone down his motor (he pretends to drives his dually truck from the back seat each time we are in the car).
Are all of our future Christmas gifts stuck in shipping containers off the coast of California this year? Some of them, I guess, but it doesn’t really matter because floating around in the ocean is probably where they’d end up eventually anyway.
It seems that COVID-19 is easing up on us again. I’m thankful for that. We were exposed and have been in quarantine for the past ten days. Thankful again, because none of us seem to have contracted it.
I really like to think about having a life that is full of daily adventures. Before, I’ve wanted a camper or a tiny house, but now I’ve set my sights on a van. But here in the real world I am not a big adventure seeker.
There are a lot of wild creatures that I don’t mind dealing with. If the rats stay out of the house, I say let them go about their business. I found a snake next to the house on Saturday, and it wasn’t poisonous so I let it be.
I’ll just tell you. I’ve written and erased and rewritten this column several times now. I’m sitting in the floor with my computer on top of a rubber container, while Mama watches the kids in the living room. They are making a lot of noise, but that isn’t the thing that causes me trouble in finding the right words to say.
Yesterday I read a very good guest article on Al.com written by Dr. Peter Pappas, who is the William E. Dismukes Professor of Medicine in the University of Alabama at Birmingham’s Division of Infectious Diseases. Pappas wrote a letter, as convincing as any other I’ve read, about how K-12 schools ought to require universal masking.
I’ll never forget when Michael came home from work earlier this year with what we call the coronavirus. I, who was well into a year-long panic over the virus, immediately rushed to the doctor’s office for my own swab. It was negative, but the physician I saw that day said he would call me in a prescription anyway.
I just dropped the boy off for his first day of “school.” Though he will only be gone three days out of the week, it still marks the beginning of the end of his time at home all day with me and I don’t like it much.
I mentioned last week that we were taking the boy to Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday. I have to admit it was just as much an idea for my own enjoyment as his. I only got to go there once as a child that I can recall. I was more of a Mr. Gatti’s patron. They aren’t very different places. You go, you eat pizza, you play games.
My mom recently found a Western Flyer bicycle at a thrift store. She wanted to use it as a yard decoration and put flowers in the basket, but upon seeing it I felt that I had to intervene. I love riding a bike, and it’s been a while since I have.
We went to the Catfish Festival on Saturday. As I pushed little sister’s stroller, with Mama and the Boy walking behind us, I looked around and laughed to myself. Maybe it wasn’t so much a laugh as it was a sigh. This time last year I wouldn’t have been caught dead there. All those people. There wouldn’t have been enough hand sanitizer or face masks in the world.
I looked out my window on Saturday and said hello to our male cardinal, Mr. Redbird as I call him. I mentioned to Michael that the birds kept us company through much of last year, and then the cats took over. I told him that I wondered what would be next. He said there was no telling.
Tomorrow we celebrate Earth Day. From a quick internet search I learned that Earth Day is observed on April 22 because it marks the anniversary of the modern environmental movement.
There are a few ponds at my old Limrock home. One’s never been much else but a big mud-hole. Oh, there are fish in it alright, but a mud-hole it will always look like. Daddy tried to put some pigs in it once.
When I was in elementary school we read a book called “Island of the Blue Dolphins.” It was about a girl who had to survive alone on an island. I don’t remember much else about it, but I do remember that it got me real interested in “survival.”
You know those questions you get asked sometimes? The ones like, where were you when JFK got shot, or where were you when the Twin Towers fell? As for me, I wasn’t born when Kennedy was president.
I used to be really into wrestling. “Rowdy” Roddy Piper was one of my favorites, God rest his soul, and he was in this movie called “They Live.” It came on one night after wrestling and I recorded it on a VHS.
Here in our household we started off 2020 with a new baby. That was the nice part. We stayed in to keep her from catching the flu. I looked forward to the end of flu season so that I could proudly parade my two beautiful children around to all of my favorite thrift stores and buffet dining establishments ( I can’t believe I haven’t had Pizza Hut lunch buffet in over a year!).
The new year is almost among us, and I guess it’s what we have all been waiting on. There’s always been this terrible reasoning that as soon as 2020 was over, so would be our problems. I don’t think that’s going to be the case at all, but I’m not going to think about that now. I’ll think abo…
Last night I made chili for dinner. I meant to make spaghetti but didn’t have any sauce. So chili it was. It was a little hot, so I put cheese in it. It was still too hot, so I ate it with cheese toast.
I drove to pick up some pizzas Saturday night. The wonderful Thanksgiving leftovers had basically run out, and I guess I just wasn’t ready to return to the diet I started after I took a food sensitivity test that told me not to eat cow’s milk or peanuts or some other things that basically made up my entire diet.
I guess the end of year holidays are my favorite. They come so closely together, and instead of rushing straight to Christmas I like to savor the moments of all the individual days and what they have to offer.
I guess I don’t feel much like writing anything these days. When I write all of my thoughts turn to politics and illness and how they are intertwined. I’d rather just sit on the porch and stare at my Cottonwood tree.
During the summer between seventh and eighth grade a few of my friends and I attended a summer program. It was like school in the summer, only we got personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut one day a week.