I started following him on Instagram and I love his Tennessee accent, his southern sensibilities, and his seemingly endless delight in life. One of my favorite things about him is the way he says, "Well, shit, y'all. What chu doin?" And then he sighs and says something about quarantining or tells one of his many, many stories about other actors or his mama or perhaps one of his adventures before he got sober.
Somehow he's comforting.
I feel like him tonight.
Well, shit, y'all. What chu doin'?
My day has been a Sunday. A drag ass, non-productive, semi-painful Sunday. I guess my bean-picking yesterday was not a good idea because I woke up in the night with achey ribs again and I did not sleep well. It wasn't that bad but it wasn't great. At one point, while I was snapping and snipping beans today, I thought to myself, "This is ENOUGH!" and truly, it is. I've got enough beans in the freezer to last until next bean season or at least mostly. I wasn't even that comfortable doing the beans and so I've been lazy, watching even more of "The Office" and dear god, it's truly become an addictive behavior and I've got at least three more seasons to go, maybe four. But it's okay. The people on the show have become my companions, my friends, my people in this time of isolation and healing. Hell, May even turned me on to a podcast done by Pam and Angela (Jenna Fischer and Angela Kinsey) where they go episode-by-episode talking about what was happening behind the scenes, "fast facts", and related trivia. I sometimes listen to this while I'm cooking supper.
How pathetic is this?
And oh yes, I am still listening to Mormon Stories podcast too.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
I have no idea.
And honestly, I don't care. I haven't become addicted to OxyContin and I get dressed every day, take a shower every night and I floss my teeth.
Of course what I get dressed in every day is one of the three dresses Lis sent me, all of which are as comfortable if not more so, than my nightgown.
Let's see. What else is there to talk about?
Oh. I know what I wanted to say. I need to apologize. I read one book about a man written by his wife and then I felt the need and the right to diagnose his so-called mental illness.
Who do I think I am?
I have no credentials, no training, no degrees, and I certainly never met Walter Anderson. From what his wife wrote, it sounded a great deal as if he had struggled with bi-polar but for all I know, it was merely his genius.
So there. I apologize. We humans just love to put everything into neat and tidy little boxes, tape them up, label them, shove them in the attic and call it a day. I am as guilty of this as the next person. If not more so. This sort of thinking allows us to call a thing explained and done and if there is anything I know, human nature is neither tidy nor neat and labels and boxes can make us feel better but feeling better is not an excuse.
I started reading this book last night.
It is a a scholarly work with lots of attributed quotes and won't be as free-flowing and personal as the first book about Anderson I read but I am excited to delve into it.
As I watched TV today after I snapped about a gallon of beans, I did a little work on a monkey doll that Lily asked me to repair months ago.
Lily made this one herself and Pepper got ahold of it and injured the poor little monkey. Lily suggested that if I had extra socks (which I do), I might want to just replace the right arm which Pepper had given special toothy attention to but I found some satiny red blanket binding and am making bandages for the arm. I feel like this is more personal and will bring to mind their beloved doggie when she was a pup.
Or maybe I'm being ridiculous. This would certainly not be the first time.
Here's a dead golden-orb weaver spider, clinging still to the wall outside my bathroom.
I'm sure she left a silk purse full of eggs to hatch next year.
Isn't she an amazing creature? Just look at the bottle brushes on two of her legs. I have no idea what purpose they serve but I do know that the webs of these mamas are strong, beautiful, and yes- golden.
I have no sermon for today. No great insight from the Church of the Batshit Crazy; just a little window into the world in which I live.