A moocher no longer
I quit bookmooch today because of bad moochers. I recently quit facebook as well. And when the Clean Water Action guy knocked on my door despite my "No Soliciting" sign I was terse with him, and called the office. I did the same thing when politicians knocked on my door for local elections. Also, when a cab almost rear-ended me, and then cut me off in the Meijer parking lot, I called to complain.
Something is amiss. Or perhaps very right. After the cab incident, I told myself I was "tricking myself into believing that I could exert some kind of control over the world". Or maybe I have just gotten cranky. I seem to simply walk away from stuff that makes my life complicated, whereas I used to hem and haw much more.
But I feel okay. My friend Daniel said I seemed depressed, but honestly I just feel very serene.
Christmas is fun with kids. I am sure I will get tired of it when they are 13, but it is sure fun now. The girl got a little grabby, but other than that fine. Spoiled rotten by attention from the grand parents, but other than that - fine.
As gifts I received three wonderful books (as well as a nice water bottle to take to work, and a nice new wallet). Two from my mother and one from her brother. These two have probably been my best book givers. In fact, when I was younger (pre-mariage), the best part of Xmas was waiting to see what book my mother would give me, and then spending a lazy day reading.
This year I got a wonderful copy of "A Child's Christmas in Wales" by Dylan Thomas ("You need to have a copy of that" says mom), a collection of poems by Jane Kenyon (her and Donald Hall are due for a long post soon), and the book from my uncle is awesome. It is called Loving Graham Greene, by Gloria Emerson. I am almost done with it. Emerson won the National Book Award for "Winners and Losers" which was a book about Vietnam, or rather our war there. This was her only novel, but it is stunningly good. It does not hurt, of course, that it is about Graham Greene (sorta).
Speaking of Jane Kenyon, and feeling serene, this is my favorite poem so far:
Otherwise
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Good night and happy new year!
Something is amiss. Or perhaps very right. After the cab incident, I told myself I was "tricking myself into believing that I could exert some kind of control over the world". Or maybe I have just gotten cranky. I seem to simply walk away from stuff that makes my life complicated, whereas I used to hem and haw much more.
But I feel okay. My friend Daniel said I seemed depressed, but honestly I just feel very serene.
Christmas is fun with kids. I am sure I will get tired of it when they are 13, but it is sure fun now. The girl got a little grabby, but other than that fine. Spoiled rotten by attention from the grand parents, but other than that - fine.
As gifts I received three wonderful books (as well as a nice water bottle to take to work, and a nice new wallet). Two from my mother and one from her brother. These two have probably been my best book givers. In fact, when I was younger (pre-mariage), the best part of Xmas was waiting to see what book my mother would give me, and then spending a lazy day reading.
This year I got a wonderful copy of "A Child's Christmas in Wales" by Dylan Thomas ("You need to have a copy of that" says mom), a collection of poems by Jane Kenyon (her and Donald Hall are due for a long post soon), and the book from my uncle is awesome. It is called Loving Graham Greene, by Gloria Emerson. I am almost done with it. Emerson won the National Book Award for "Winners and Losers" which was a book about Vietnam, or rather our war there. This was her only novel, but it is stunningly good. It does not hurt, of course, that it is about Graham Greene (sorta).
Speaking of Jane Kenyon, and feeling serene, this is my favorite poem so far:
Otherwise
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Good night and happy new year!