I am so Chunky My Head Looks Small

These are observations from a woman who was verrrry close to fweaky yesterday. This fweaked state required a 1.5 hour phone call to Belinda as I drove to SAT. Mostly it was about being old, being left behind, being a sorry caregiver, being guilty, being sorry, being a purger not a hoarder, being a reader, and being some other stuff that I can’t remember. Usually on drives to an from San Antonio I go through some kind of emotional drama – I love Mom sooooooo much still I am not always keen on going to SAT…I think it is because I do too much running around so it just always seems to be at a time when I feel just plain burdened.

I told Jackie about Steph going away for Christmas. I also told her that I thought I might check out and go to Aspen…she thought that was pretty funny since I was alluding to the pressure of my responsibilities; she thought it was extra funny. Or at least I think that is why she thought it was funny.

This is sort of back to the white frame houses I keep writing about. One time Mom and I were on a road trip to Louisiana…We went to St. Francisville, Natchitoches, and a few other places. Anyway, we stayed at this Bed and Breakfast that offered dinner too. The dinner was served in a little frame house on the property –it had a screened in porch. We had dinner on the porch—it had rained all that day so it was spongy humid. The meal was delicious; the wine warm and heady; and there was a full choir of frogs. Mom and I believe it was the loveliest evening we can remember from our travels. It is dear that we both saw it as so special.

I have been purging my house with such zeal. So, I am in San Antonio and just took on Mother’s house. She had the oddest assortment of pots and pans. She can’t reach anything in the shelves either lower or upper. The time was right. She wanted the place cleaned and I was the one to do it. It was very fulfilling.

I went to Best Buy today to get another cable for my new mini iPad. The cashier was about 18, I guess. The transaction was exhausting. I gave her my credit card, then she asked for it again, then my ID again, and the entire time spoke sooo rapidly. It made me nuts. Finally I said, “I’m sorry but you are speaking too fast for me to understand.” It kinda went down hill from there. Then she started talking to me as if I was from Tai Wan and loudly too. I guess I should be glad she wasn’t from India. I am irritated when I can’t communicate with cashiers.

Another shopping experience yesterday at Sam’s—I came out of the store and there was a group from the Morning Glory Church singing spirituals. They gave me a rubber bracelet that said I could be a Soldier for God. A man blessed me. I felt blessed.

I am blessed.

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