In Limbo

I have been taking Fridays off from work lately to give myself some much-needed downtime. The only problem is that Fridays off from work feel like Saturdays, which makes Saturdays feel like Sundays, which makes Sundays feel like limbo. When I’m in limbo, I’m not sure what I ought to do with my time, and I don’t get much done. These unproductive Sundays make me wonder if I’m really getting enough value from my Fridays off.

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Stinky

So many daffodils have bloomed this spring that I picked a few to enjoy indoors. I put them in a vase on my desk. They’re cheerful, and I like looking at them. I don’t like smelling them, though. Why do such pretty flowers have to stink so badly? They always surprise me with their unpleasant scent.

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Strawberry Over Mint, Every Time

Lately I have been brushing my teeth with children’s toothpaste. I started using it because I was curious about what brushing my teeth with strawberry-flavored toothpaste would be like. Now it’s nearly gone, and I’m sad, because I like strawberry toothpaste. I don’t want to go back to the icky mint-flavored toothpaste that adults are supposed to use. Lucky for me, I don’t have to. I could buy more strawberry toothpaste instead, and I think I will.

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Spider-Ban

As I was making the bed today I found a spider under a pillow. Spiders are not allowed in beds, and spider trespass is a crime punishable by death. I felt sorry for the spider, though, so I scooped it up with a Kleenex and let it go outside. I may come to regret this decision. What if it knows how to get back in? And what if the other spiders now think they can trespass with impunity? Maybe I should put up some “NO SPIDERS!” signs around the bed, just in case. You can never be too careful when it comes to spiders.

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A Wealth of Ideas

Dear Livia,

I didn’t write a single letter to you or Marshall in 2020. Sorry about that. It was a difficult year, thanks to the Coronavirus, and my daily “Pandemic Days” blog posts ate up most of my writing energy. That wasn’t the only cause, though. Many of my reasons for writing letters to you no longer apply. You’re old enough to remember things for yourself, and you’re old enough that maybe, in some cases, you wouldn’t like me to air your business on a public blog. But, after reading some of the letters in my old albums, you asked me to write more, so here, at least, is one more, just for you.

You are full of ideas, and I cannot stress enough how much those ideas contribute to our family life. A few days ago, you sent an e-mail to the rest of us, because you’d read an article about the deleterious health effects of too much screen time, and you thought we should try taking a month off from TV. Your father and I weren’t prepared to make such a radical change, but we also didn’t want to say no, because you were right that we’ve all had too much screen time lately. So we talked about it and agreed that a couple of screen-free days every week would be good for us.

We had our first screen-free night last night, and even Marshall, who wasn’t initially happy with the arrangement, had to agree afterward that it was good. I played the piano while Marshall listened. Then you and I played Spot-It (a first for me–I’d never played it before). After you went to bed, I stayed off the screens and cleared some paperwork from my desk. Once a person decides that screens are out, a whole world of other activities open up, including all the things they’ve been putting off because screens were easier.

Today you announced a new art contest. This contest will feature all things animal-related, including insects. We’ve had mixed results with art contests in the past. Some have gone very well and produced some beautiful works of art (our snowflake contest and tree contest spring to mind). Others have fizzled and gone nowhere. You haven’t let the failures get you down. You just keep going for the gold, and every time you manage to persuade the rest of us to go with you, we find it together.

Speaking of art, you have a Dragon Store downstairs where you sell dragon art. Previously the space had been rented by the Cuteness Store. I have dragon art all over my office. I’ll scan some of them for the photo album so that they we can admire them in the future, too.

Lately you’ve been writing poems and sending them to me by e-mail. I won’t reproduce those here, but expect to see some of them in the album, too. They are cheerful and fun, and full of ideas, just like you.

Love,

Mom

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SITY: Reason to Sneeze

My allergies have been kicking up. At first I wondered why, because there aren’t many flowers blooming yet. Then I looked up, and it all made sense.

Maple Buds
I could sneeze just looking at them.
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SITY: $#@%!

$#@%!
“Tick” may be a four-letter word, but it is not the one I uttered when I found this thing crawling on me.

I hate finding ticks. At the same time, I’m grateful when I find them, because it’s not the tick you find that’s the problem, but the tick you don’t. Plus, there is a first tick every year, just as there is a first daffodil and a first violet. It’s almost a relief to have found it, because now I can get to work on accepting the inescapable reality that there are ticks everywhere at this time of year. But, I hope that this was really the first tick, the only one that there has been to find on any of us this year.

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Books at My Bedside

The Unfinished World and Other Stories by Amber Sparks, 172/223: This is an interesting collection of short stories, all unusual, some beautifully so, others disturbingly so. Most of them are very short. Brevity is good, especially when you’re tired. I might already have finished the book had I not gotten stuck in the longest story, my least favorite so far. Overall, though, it’s been a great read, and I expect to finish it soon.

The Constant Rabbit by Jasper Fforde, 250/306: I wanted to give this book another try while it was still new, because what is the point of paying full price for a new hardcover if you’re not going to read it right away? So I did, and I’ll say this for Fforde, he’s clever as All Hell. And it’s a good thing that I can appreciate his cleverness, because satire is not my favorite genre. It was hard going at first, but I feel like the pace of the story has picked up, and I expect the last 50-odd pages to go quickly.

The Waste Land and Other Poems by T.S. Eliot, 0/88: I read an excerpt from The Waste Land recently (see below), and I thought, “Hey, I have never read this poem, and maybe I should.”

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

On the Bus With Rosa Parks by Rita Dove, ?/88: I don’t know exactly how many pages or poems I’ve read from this poetry collection so far. I pick it up every so often, and my plan is simply to keep at it until I’ve read them all.

Overture by Yael Goldstein, 28/293: I haven’t made any headway on this one recently. The pages are dense, and I’ve been feeling too lazy to deal with that. But, I still have hope that I’ll pick the book up again before I forget what happened in the 28 pages I’ve read so far.

P.S. Since my last reading report, I put aside The Maze Runner by James Dashner, because I wasn’t in the right mood for it. I finished Circus Mirandus by Cassie Beasley and gave it an A+ grade.

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SITY: Daffodils

The first daffodil bloomed today. It was pretty. The picture I took of it was not, though, so please accept this replacement picture of some daffodils on the cusp of blooming.

Best Buds
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Today’s Thoughts

  • I cringe when people who are neither Italian nor in Italy say “ciao!” Meanwhile, I say “hola!” all the time, so who am I to judge?
  • Livia has been reading my photo albums. I hadn’t expected her to read them until she was older, and it freaks me out a little that she’s reading them now. On the bright side, she says my letters to her and Marshall are the best parts of the albums. She also wants me to write more of them, but I’m not sure how I feel about that. A lot of my reasons for writing them no longer apply. If I were to start them up again, I’d need to think about why.
  • Every time a new college semester is about to start, Berklee tries to convince me to take some of their online classes. I’m tempted, as always, but I can’t justify the expense, so I’ll settle for the usual compromise: I’ll allow myself to buy any musical recordings or books about music that I want.
  • I wish people wouldn’t use “rapier” as an adjective. I know that a rapier is a sword, and I don’t mind the noun so much, because context usually sets the reader up for it. But the adjective often strikes without warning, and when it does, it may be initially misunderstood as the comparative of “rape-y,” which isn’t keen.
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