Thursday, August 11, 2016

Small Missions, Accoomplished

I went to town today. I was going yesterday but I couldn't get out of bed, if you'll recall.

And I've had two things that I really wanted to get done and thought that I'd combine the errands and so I did.
I wanted to take my little old Singer sewing machine in for repair and refurbishment, and I wanted to go take the prints I got at the Havana Museum of Fine Arts to get framed.

I went to the sewing machine repair place first and had a nice little chat with the repairman/owner and then we realized we live just a few miles down the road from each other and he started going off about the new sidewalks and what a waste of money they are.
I told him that I was pretty sure that they'd been paid for by funds which were earmarked exactly for projects like this with a certain population density and blah, blah, blah which I'm not certain about but I think this is true. They wouldn't just throw sidewalks down in Lloyd because they had extra money in the Jefferson County coffers. Of this I am sure.
And then he started talking about handicap ramp access. And other handicapped things required by law and how although some people did need them, it was a lot of money to help the very few.
So, okay, I had to gently try to explain to him that all people deserve access to all places and I did the best I could to try and do a little education about how access to all is just a basic right. And THEN he started talking about yeah, he guessed it was better to spend money on that than it was to spend money supporting people who were perfectly capable of working but who refuse to get a job and he linked that with the newest sidewalks which lead to the truck stop where these welfare people are walking to get their lottery tickets and by then I knew I was talking to a stone-cold right-winger and probably a racist and I should have probably clutched my little old Featherweight to me and backed out of the shop but I did not.
I was, to be quite honest, taken aback. Everything had been so pleasant while we were just talking about sewing machines and their belts and so forth.
And now that I think about it, this guy doesn't even live in Jefferson County. He lives in Leon County so whatever money was spent on sidewalks is none of his fucking concern anyway.
Well, he met one goddam liberal today who was as kind and empathetic to his POV as possible. Lucky for him he met me on a good day.

Then off to the picture framing place and the ladies there were sweet and we didn't discuss anything but picture framing and of course I'm going to be spending a fortune getting two extremely inexpensive prints framed but they mean the world to me. Sometimes you just need to spend what you need to spend (if you can, of course) on what makes you happy. And I will never forget the day I bought those prints and how I couldn't stop crying because of the huge emotion one of them had unleashed in my soul and how sweet Felix kept hugging me and patting me and saying, "Don't cry, Mary," and somehow, that picture just summed up everything I felt but could not express about Cuba. Hell, I teared up when I unrolled the little print in the framing place.

And so I feel as if I got something accomplished and I feel a little better. This morning I was going down into a very, very deep place and thinking that I might have to get back on my antidepressant which I am so loathe to do but will if I have to. Tomorrow I'm going with Lily and the kids to buy the boys' school supplies and new shoes. School starts on Monday for the boys. Owen will be in first grade, Gibson in preschool. I still can't believe that nor can I visualize him in a classroom but then again, I couldn't visualize Owen in one either and that eventually worked out just fine.
As it does.

And Jessie and Vergil and August are coming home this weekend. Maybe we can have a little late Sunday afternoon cookout and ice cream social to celebrate everything. I would like that.

So here I am, still living and feeling a little better about life although I will tell you this- I never, in my wildest dreams, thought that life would be this complicated at this age.
Why I thought that is a mystery to me and I need to just get over it because it's a bullshit lie. Life probably doesn't get less complicated until we die and that'll happen sooner or later no matter what we do.
Meanwhile, it's one new surprise package of mixed blessings after another and good or bad, they're all complicated.

Trust me.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I spent all day, every day at my job in retail dealing with people just like the sewing machine man. People that, for the most part, are good and decent people....until anything at all political comes up and then you're left stunned at the sudden change in their whole demeanor. It's damn discouraging to meet Donald Trump voters every. Single. Day. For real. Life in the South, I guess.

    I hope both the boys are excited to be starting school. What an adventure, at their ages! :)

  2. You and I must be on the same 'schedule.' Today I decided to wash the sheets, although I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Halfway through the wash cycle I laid on my mattress pad and caseless pillow and slept the sleep of the dead. Got the bed made eventually, then had to lay down again later. I just realized, as I prepare to go to bed, that I've spent more time with closed eyelids today than open.

  3. Ah, there you are!

    When I think about people like your non-friend sewing machine guy I get all pissy and think how mad I would get if it were me. But it never happens that way. Not ever. I also end up taken aback. My brain start swimming and I can't say anything because I am struck dumb that people are actually out there living their lives and thinking and saying shit like that out loud.

    Well, as you know I am on a different anti-depressant. I fight it because deep inside of me I think if I just tried harder I would be better. The thing is, I don't think that about anyone else with depression and anxiety. For everyone else I have compassion. I wonder if it is possible to transfer those same feelings to myself?

    A fellow blogger sent me the best card in the universe and I am going to get it framed. I will just be going to the dollar store though. Not that the card is any less awesome because of it.

    Owen in grade one? And Gibson in preschool. Wasn't he just born a few weeks ago?

  4. School starts on Monday?! When I was a kid, which was back in the stone age, we didn't start school until the second week of September. Summers are never long enough, but back then they actually seemed like they were. We were really wanting to go back by then, we had run out of things to do.
    This is big stuff for them, first grade and preschool, Monday evenings blog should be really good. Can't wait.

  5. Sometimes I get into conversations like that I think, "Wow. I know too much about this person." Once again, I miss the old days when people (allegedly) didn't talk politics for the sake of politeness.

    Why on earth would anyone object to sidewalks? What could possibly be wrong with sidewalks?

    Anyway, I'm glad you got your errands done and I hope your state of mind continues improving. If you have to start your meds again, so be it. Better than living each day in pain. No need for that.

  6. Ack. Complicted bullshit sucks, but I'm not naive enough to think it'll ever go away no matter how old I get.

  7. we have a new neighbor and when I was walking the dog the other day I heard him in the garage and thought I would stop and chat and as I got closer I could hear he was listening to Trump on the radio or TV and so I backed away and continued on my walk. don't know if he is a supporter or not and I didn't want to find out. Trump is kind of a deal breaker for me. and my husband can't wait to go get his hair cut at the barber shop in town so he can tell them he's voting for Hillary cause Trump disrespects our soldiers and their families. as for life being complicated, when has it not ever been. I just try to go with the flow while my sister rails against whatever is happening and is constantly stressed out.

  8. Well, I love that you tried to educate the sewing machine man about handicapped access issues. You're a gem.

  9. Ah, is there ever such a thing as an uncomplicated Life? If so, sign me up, I'm long overdue! And Bravo for trying to educate the sewing machine man gently... I'm mostly sure I can't be gentle when POV is totally unexpected and the conversation takes a turn in a wrong direction, so I often just say nothing... especially if I'm leaving something to be fixed. *winks* Dawn... The Bohemian


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