I didn’t know you well… but truth be told, that’s my own fault; why do I mourn you now?
When I saw you in the store, I fell in love – or thought I did. You were extra long – I had been stubborn about the length of my new beau… I don’t like my toes touching hardwood during Downward Dog. I don’t care what you’ve heard – size matters; it really does. You, Darling, were more than long enough. Don’t let anyone tell you different.
And you were orange! The happiest of the happy colours! That may even have been the real deciding factor in the purchase of you. Orange. I had to have you.
I had all the best intentions for a long and intimate relationship when I brought you home to live with me, I really did. Those first few days were good weren’t they? Continue reading “Death of a Yoga Mat”
Tha “art” of building a bento box is, apparently, a lesson in meditation. One learns patience and serenity blah, blah, blah while getting the food ready to pack, and then designing a pleasing arrangement in the container.
It gets really complicated if you try to take it seriously and impart “wishes” into the arrangement for the person you’re feeding.
These two boxes took over 45 minutes to create, between the washing, slicing, dicing and arranging and rearranging.
By the time I got finished I was just wishing I’d decided to pack a sandwich. I didn’t get a lot of mediation value for my time, I don’t think.
I have to admit, though, that it kind of did feel like time well spent; I fridged my lunch ’til morning, and went to bed looking forward to an inspirational meal break next day.
By then, though, the serenity spell had worn off. It was a good lunch, but I don’t think the prep. time was worth the few minutes it took to scarf it down.
I’m actively “smallering” my possessions in a bid to eventually own just enough “stuff” to fit in a revamped school bus (yes, @robgokee, it’ll be a short bus) – then further revamped into an RV – which will then be known as My Future Home on Wheels.
No, I don’t have my bus yet. I’m confident that a short bus will just fall in my lap when I’ve successfully smallered my life.
To that end, I’ve scheduled some smallering time for this Friday and Saturday. I’m starting with the Ya Never Know wardrobe, which never actually gets worn, it’s just there cuz ya never know… I might need to wear some of it. Some day.
On a daily basis, I wear either my work uniform, or leggings under one of two black sweatshirts, both exactly the same. The sweatshirts were part of the uniform from my previous night job. The leggings are because I don’t like to wear pants. I own 10 pairs of jeans, only one pair of which I like to wear, and then, only if the occasion warrants pants.
It’s surprising how few occasions actually arise that require pants-wearing on my part. Errr… Parts.
So I’m purging most everything. This Friday and Saturday. I really, really am.
You can all help by pitching in to refurbish the short bus when the time comes.
Seriously. SIXTY. DOLLARS. I mean, really: Holy shit!
I had to remind myself (repeatedly) through Halloweén week of my recently adopted “Zen” Attitude. Throughout the scrubbing of ketchup and peeling of chewed-up chewing gum from doorknobs (actually, I thought that was hilarious, but that’s just because Ky, AKA Robin, was the one to turn the knob and gross out), to the near-heart attack over the SIXTY. DOLLAR. CELLOPHANE. SUPER-HERO COSTUME (!!!), to the broken tooth (yes, Karma for the ill-gotten gains swiped sneakily from Robin’s treat-bag), I’ve “Ohm”ed and “Zen”ed my way into a whole ‘nother plane of existence.
I’m Zen, baby.
I think I just like saying the word “Zen”. It just sounds , well… “Zen”, doesn’t it? If ever a word embodies its definition phonetically (now there’s a turn of phrase for you – I just made that up!), it’s “Zen”.
And I think I’ve just proven that just saying “Zen” often enough will make you stoned. Now, that’s “Zen”, right there.
Anyway, that’s been my only recent excitement of late. Behind the scenes now, I’ve been busyish with this new space. I’ve been methodically stealing posts from the old blog, “Where the Walls are Soft”, over to here – particularly The Landlady stories, and The Father Chronicles. Once I’ve got them all moved, I’ll actually begin to post untold stories.
And speaking of untold stories, I’ve been posting chapters of my novella, “Magic” here. They’re not “live” yet, cuz I’ve lost my nerve again. Workin’ on that…