Today, I have a bunch of rambles. Random thoughts that bounce around in my head when I am low on slumber. Not a pretty sight inside my unorganized brain, I should think.
Watch out, I am feeling a whole lot of energy today. Which is new and wonderful. Which means I’m on my way back to ‘me.’ Which makes me so happy I feel like crying. (Surprise.)
So, I’ll just jump in and say this:
I am loving this living-of-the-banal.
Remember this post? When I decided to embrace the gift of clarity that a cancer diagnosis can bring? (Why is it so hard for me to write those two words? I hate them. It gives me such a sick feeling, even on this side of a really good prognosis. I don’t like that those words are a part of my story.) Anyway, that post. Remember when I realized that it was time to stand up and face the brick-wall-around-the-corner-bend-in-the-road-hard-choice-huge-disappointment? When I decided to embrace the everyday and gracefully put away the textbooks, and shelve a big dream, and take a year for healing and rest, and live a quiet year of happy moments? Okay, I admit, it was with some (read: many) tears intermingled.
Well, I’m embracing. I’m living that quiet life.
And loving every moment.
This is my boy.
Well, not my boy. My sister’s boy. Know what? He didn’t like me. Um, at all. Because he had a very little inkling of who-in-the-world his Aunt Betsy was. You know, the Aunt Betsy that was at school all the time, and studying for lab practicals, and working long hours at clinical, and traveling to Hartford more than she was traveling to see her family. Who had zero time for anything but two things: her own four little people at home and studying for a whole lot of nursing exams. In other words, I was a really lousy aunt.
But that all changed. Because sickness kinda’ knocked me down and rearranged my plans.
Now, he likes me. Knows me. Says my name. He doesn’t cry when his Mom brings him over for me to babysit. He grins at me with this ridiculous twinkle in his eye, like he knows we’re buds. And that just plain makes me happy.
We played. Ate fruit snacks. I got out the Lincoln logs and Thomas the Train set. And know what? He wasn’t having any of it. He wanted my vintage typewriter. Badly. You know, the one that I won’t let my own kids touch? The one that I like too much to have anyone break it? Huh. That one.
Know what I learned that day? My vintage typewriter? Nearly indestructible.
Anderson’s review: A pretty fun toy. (And handy footrest. ??)
Okay, 2 more things. One unimportant, the other very important. (Because I feel bad for forgetting…)
First, the unimportant but smile-inducing. (For me, anyway.)
This is what I did yesterday. And will finish doing today:
Do you like that spoon? Mm-hmm. Me, too. It’s from (shocking, I know) Etsy. Here’s her shop. I like Christmas decorating.
Now, the important thing.
Last year, I linked to this photographer’s site and asked for your help. And now I’m doing it again, but a week later than I meant to. Erica May is a kind-hearted, warm and talented person. She makes for a nice friend. (I know, even though I’ve never met her in person.) She is the catalyst for this entire little ‘Betsy Jo Photography’ thing ever beginning. She encouraged, and answered, and challenged and taught me. I consider her a true mentor, a giver. So in any way I can, I want to give back. Can you all do me a favor? Can you go to her blog and leave her a nice comment? She does a canned food drive every year- for every comment left on her blog in the next 6 days, she will donate a canned good to her local food bank. Last year she hit 130 Cans for Comments. Can we blow that number out of the water? Well, I know you can because I know how many people read this blog every day– and if the few hundred or so of you would go comment on her site, I think that would make her smile, and fill a few more hearts with happiness this Christmas season. Please go. Please comment. Tell her I said thank you. You can comment on any post, and you can comment multiple times. You should see her latest post. I love those film photos. Especially that first one. (I think a Diana F+ camera sounds like a good Christmas gift for a certain photographer. Do feel free to hint to my Paul…)
(Okay, I’ll be quiet so you can go comment now.)
*Oh, just a question: do rambling posts like this drive you crazy? If so, I’m sorry. I can try to stop. But it may be a fruitless endeavor.