Posted tagged ‘boredom’

“His socks compelled one’s attention without losing one’s respect”

September 26, 2011

Today is perfectly beautiful. The sun is warm without being hot, the sky is blue and there is a slight breeze. All week the temperature will be in the low 70’s. I doubt it gets much better than this.

My right arm is peeling, a souvenir from my Ghanaian journey. On the way up-country to Tamale, I got quite the sunburn. I told Thomas, my driver, I had to sit backwards all the way to Accra. He told me I would be uncomfortable.

Every now and then I run into a day when I have absolutely nothing going on in my head. I stare out the window hoping for some sort of inspiration and am usually disappointed. The neighborhood has a barking dog at the moment, and that’s the only excitement, and I’m stretching the meaning of excitement by even using that word. I guess this will just have to be a stream of consciousness day.

When I was young, the tops of all my socks were stretched and hung down near my shoes. My mother told me not to pull on the tops to put them on my feet. I never listened, and I really didn’t care if they were stretched. I’m not even sure if I cared if they matched. I have a friend who only wears white socks, the same kind of white socks. He never minds losing one sock.

I can sew on a button so it stays on. Sometimes I sew it so well I can’t get it into the button hole. The button has no give. My clothes can be wrinkled or faded, but I won’t wear shirts missing buttons. I even have a box of buttons so I can through and try to match the missing one. I don’t sew anything else.

Crooked pictures drive me crazy as do candles leaning to one side or the other. The rug in the living room is an area rug. It came from Turkey, and I love it for its figures and its muted colors. I have this thing about the sides being placed exactly the same on each outside board. The dog is prone to bringing her toys to that rug and play on it. She also brings a biscuit to picnic on the rug. Both things drive me crazy, but I allow them and then go back and clean up and move the rug so it is even. I figure it’s a small thing in the realm of things.

I don’t always make my bed. Strangely enough I did when I worked, and back then I left for work by 6:20 each morning. I think the reason I don’t now is every day has the potential of being a nap day, and I’d hate to mess up a well made bed.

Well, it’s time to finish. My heart is pumping. Two dogs are now barking, and Gracie is going out to investigate. I’m not sure how much more excitment I can take!

“The afternoon passed more slowly than a walnut-sized kidney stone.”

February 24, 2011

Cold is the word of the day and it’s going to be the word of the week. In my mind February is always grouped with December and January and is still winter while March is nearly spring, not yet spring but nearly spring. Baseball fills the sports’ pages, the bulbs are poking their heads out of the ground and the garden stores have seeds and starter boxes. We just can’t plant outside. For that, we have to wait until it’s really spring.

Today is a full day. This morning I have to attend the funeral for my friend’s stepfather; this afternoon Gracie has a well dog visit, and tonight is trivia. Somewhere in there I have to fit in a trip to the dump. Yesterday I had nothing to do; today is filled. It’s weird how my days seem to work out that way.

When I was a kid, I’d sometimes get bored, especially during the summer. I’d tire of the pool, my bike and even the library. I’d whine to my mother there was nothing to do, and she’d make suggestions, all of which irrefutably proved to me that parents had never been children.

When I got older, around high school age, there never seemed to be enough time to be bored. I left for school at 6:45 and was seldom home before 4:45. I’d do my homework, have dinner, watch a TV show or two and then head to bed. Most of the week I was so tired, I could barely drag myself to the weekends. College was different. Carrying five courses each semester seemed like a walk in the park compared to high school. I seldom had more than three classes a day, and then all the rest of the day was mine. I loved college.

Before I retired, I was up every day at 5 or no later than 5:15. I was at work by 6:30 and seldom home before 4. Many nights I had meetings so I hurried home to take care of the dog, grab a bite then go right back out. I prayed for boredom.

It’s funny now. I have plenty of time on my hands, and I am never bored. I read, take a ride, play on the computer or even nap. Sometimes I stand by the window and watch the birds at the feeders. I seem to fill even the emptiest of days.