Mother Of Invention

And just like that, suddenly it wasn’t as hard to turn to the left or right without cringing. I shall love my aching joints and rejoice in the fact that the back may be in recovery. I shall promise to get the dolly to move 5 gallon buckets full of soil and tomatoes from now on and sing hallelujah every time I bend to retrieve a fallen item off the floor or scoop the kitty poop.
Things can always be worse, but they can also get better and waiting in grace has a big giant dose of good and wholesome measure — as depressing as being ailing can be, it’s better to think happy future thoughts instead of gruesome ones — as tempting as it is to believe something bad will never end.
I made a little room to be a house inside a house and spent my time there doing only what was absolutely needed — like watching movies and peeing in a bucket. At some points it was essential to shuffle to the kitchen for a piece of chocolate and a spoonful of peanut butter or some beans in a can and an avocado to eat to keep the nutrients, required for healing, flowing through the blood. It was hard to drink much water for the fear of needing the bucket — but water was more needed than avoiding the pain involved in pulling pants down — where are split-crotches when they’re needed or men’s undies and a hose?
Maybe the mother of invention is pain and trying to avoid it. Aren’t men lucky that they have attached hoses and cows because they can do it all while standing and probably have excellent backs unlike these weak ones made for humans.
It must be said that this is why we try so hard to have our houses in order because come the time that things aren’t easy, it’s easy to see that things in their right places are better than in ones where they can’t be found or reached right. And it’s so much better that things start off clean while waiting for a time that things can be cleaned again because that mountain to climb later would be more depressing than trying to pull pants down in a hurry while trying to scale that growing mountain in the meanwhile.
It’s easy to see now, too, that it’s important to keep a grabber handy. Toes work in a pinch though — so it’s important to keep those toes in shape for when they might be called upon. And now I know, things can be shimmied up a wall with a good stick or piece of PVC when everything else fails but forget about the toothpick on the floor until you can sweep again — just be sure not to let it splinter in your foot while you shuffle to the kitchen for chocolate.



and sing hallelujah

“I Ran Through Cow Poop and It Felt Great”


This Old House

The inside of the house is either cold or hot depending on whether the weather is hot or cold outside — it behaves the same because it’s a giant sieve with little insulation — but it’s still a beloved structure.

Lately it’s been getting a thorough going through and an elimination parade of things moving around and into better assemblance or out one or the other of two doors so that living in it is improved for pleasure.

A labor of love.

It’s a freedom house. Decidedly dedicated to only having fun except for these major parade events that happen once in every sixteen years or so which aren’t completely unfun.

It’s wonderful to see the floors again and have mopping made so easy, and jars and bottles in their rightful places, and space on all the counters, and clothes in all their closets.

No more stubbing toes on things that aren’t supposed to be where they are sitting at the moment and for far too many days or weeks or months or years thereafter. “Do I really need this?”

“Hmmm? Do I?”

“If I have to think about it twice it’s time for it to find a better purpose and a life with someone else who sees it with new eyes or thinks it can do something good for their own improved enjoyment or pleasure of living.”

Karmella and Puggles are coming here to live and they need the space that other things have taken in the mind of the old gray lady stubbing toes. Mopping can be done now so there is no longer need to mope non-stop about mopping.

She was told by an employer long ago that “If I get three main things done in every day, that’s a day I call successful. Three main things is about the limit.” So now she does at least three main things and thinks that three main things are far ahead of nothing.

She won’t say “Eating the elephant,” because she doesn’t believe in eating elephants or any other thing that has an eye or two that could look back at her in sorrow.

This old house is falling down but the old gray mare and the house are doing it together.