Happy Thoughts

I've been avoiding the news since Susan Collins. It's really been quite lovely.

It helps that the temperatures have been in the low 80's, that the rains have cleared the air of pollen and dust, at that the clouds, fueled by tropical storms and hurricanes near and far, have led to spectacular sunsets. 

And the pool is still warm enough for laps.

The risk of triple digits has passed, so I feel safe putting plants directly in the soil.  I'm going to risk planting another rock rose bush to supplement the ones the javelina had for brunch one Tuesday last year.  I'm going to amend the soil in some small areas of the garden, the dead zones where nothing has grown (and I've tried everything) for the 49 seasons we've lived here. 

If the soil won't come to me, I'll bring myself to the soil. 

I will not be defeated.  The yarn storage has gotten totally out of hand; I'm on Pintrest looking for suggestions.  I have the world's widest array of plastic bins and plastic bags and wicker baskets, in all shapes and sizes, covered and bare, handles optional on most.  I have a fancy label maker I've never un-wrapped from the impossible to destroy plastic covering. 

I'm all set, once I make a decision about what to do. 

My desk is, once more, a disaster zone.  I won't take a picture, because it's embarrassing, even by my standards.  And that's a very low bar.  But in order to find the label maker I'll have to dig through the layers, and so, it seems, I will have to approach this task as well.
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I'm being ruthless in the kitchen.  I bought a new loaf pan to replace the ones Nannie handed down to me from Paw's older sister and my banana bread just slipped right out, bouncing on the cooling rack with reckless abandon.  I'm not used to shouting Hey, come back here to my baked goods.

Out go all my no-longer-non-stick, never use them even thought Someone Special gave/bought/handed it down to me.  Others can use them; I don't need them taking place.

I want everything I touch to make me smile, or at least not make me groan. 

And this is the prescription I've set for myself, to counter the overwhelming sadness I encounter when I try to face the world outside my house.  I'm listening to the DJ's on KXCI, our community radio station, because I can't bear to hear NPR rehashing the same sorry state of affairs,, program after program after program.  This morning I rolled down the car windows and sang along, loudly, to music that's been mine for decades.

Life is much happier here in my little shell.