Monday, January 16, 2012

R&R, Or How Iron Bess Survived Another Day

I am happy to report that today was a non-working day.  Yes you heard correctly, there was no ripping things apart, pulling nails, painting shit, or even mudding stuff.  It was a for real, do nothing except laundry, cooking, and walking kind of day. 

The last couple of days have been cold.  Cold enough to be forming more ice on the lake out front.  All day I could hear it talking to me.  For real.  I shit you not.  It sounds like really loud indigestion, but that is how lakes talk, most especially when freezing and thawing.  I know this because now that I live on the lake I am a "Lake Whisperer".  Yup you heard it here first.  I am the first official true blue Canadian Lake Whisperer.  Today my lake was saying, "Baby, I'm getting hard all over."  My response was.  "Son of a bitch is it ever cold out here.  The wind coming off that lake is freezing the end of my nose off."  The lake just burped at me.  It was all highly scientific.  You had to be there. 

Also, today, for the first time in forever, I actually did a little dabbling in writing, besides the blathering I do here I mean.  It wasn't good, and it wasn't long, but it was actually a tiny bit of writing.  Writing practice to be more accurate.  I did it on this blog site I found about writing... for anyone caring to have a look.  I am so grateful for sites like that, I need all the motivation I can get when it comes to my writing because usually I am so crunched for time with all the crap going on here at Kitpu Estates.  And certain family members, or more accurately member (she who lives in the north and will remain nameless) makes me keep adding pictures so she can police every movement I make, which leaves little time before the head hits the pillow.  So today I actually took the opportunity to spray some WD40 over the brain cells responsible for writing and I wrote.  It was good.  Not the outcome, but the act of writing.  I'm babbling now, I should stop. 

Oh and before I forget, I also applied for a couple more jobs.  Yikes!  I don't know if I should be more freaked about getting a job, or not getting one.  On the one hand I haven't had a job in over a year.  On the other hand I've worked my ass off harder this past year than any time in the last century of working full time.  If I get a job now the progress here at the shack will slow down (probably not too much because the hubby happens to be a machine, one of those terminator types which never stops).  But I like to think that I contribute just a bit to the work in progress here. You know the worse thing about the thought of going back to work is?  It is the thought of having to be on a schedule again.  The thought of having to be somewhere at at certain time is enough to give me the willies.  I have a hard enough time keeping bank appointments. 

Okay now I'm stopping for real.  Good night one and all.  Burble, burble, burp. 

1 comment:

  1. So is this *job* thing just another bit of insurance to make sure that the grand plan doesn't have any ugly unexpectedness or an acknowledgement that you need *structure*? I suppose the really optimal part of your getting work is that you can, without any serious degree of soul searching, tell anyone who displeases you where and how deep they can cram it. Work, essentially on your terms, does seem like a reasonable option. Boy would I need a dream option to entice me in that direction. Anyhow...enjoy your days *off* when you can get them.