- I can throw one hell of a tantrum
- Crying at work sucks (not a new lesson, just reinforced)
- Steaming cauliflower and garlic smells like rancid ass for the first 6 minutes
- Steaming cauliflower and garlic takes on a whole new smell after 6 minutes. I’m not sure if this smell is good or not, but tis better than the rancid ass of the first six minutes.
- Adding butter, half and half and shredded parmesan to steamed cauliflower and garlic is pretty fucking delicious. Its not exactly mashed potatoes, but it’s close enough visually and tasty enough to satisfy my need for carbs even though its a good choice
- 3/4 of a cup of Patron is probably too much Tequila for a school night.
- Its not a school night so fuck it.
- I should NOT be knitting on my OWL
- I am not drunk enough to not know I should not be working on my OWL
- I am working on my OWL anyway
- Tomorrow is my day off so it is not a school night!
- Even my shitty day is still a millionty times better than an actual shitty day.
- Life is good.
Turns out in life you make friends in some pretty strange places.
This revelation comes by way of sad occasion, but maybe not. Tonight hubs and I attended a funeral for a friend who recently lost the battle to cancer, but won a better place, free from pain and illness. In truth, our friendship is more with the husband she left behind, fostered over many years of Sunday morning bagels. Apparently a cream cheese schemer can really bright folks together.
Funerals are, of course, a natural time for reflection, and this one really got me thinking. We got to know our friends over shared breakfasts, but it turned out his name was familiar to us well before we ever met him over bagels. He had something of a legend status in the local reenacting community, a member of the unit I first joined but not really active any longer at that point, so I knew the name but not the face. After several instances of walking into our breakfast stop with hubs in Civil War themed t-shirts, our very outgoing friend broke the ice. And we started to chat a little in line. And then he’d pull a chair over and join us for a few minutes. And a few minutes turned into an hour or more many many times. And while he was pulling a chair over, his wife was chatting away with another bunch of regulars. And through the weeks and years, we’ve gotten to know more of that group, too. All of us pulling tables together from time to time or staying in separate groups as the mood hit, watching other folks come and go, seeing kids grow from tiny little infants into teenagers… even though we hardly know any of these people outside of an hour every Sunday, somehow we’re our own little community. And walking into the funeral home, seeing smiling faces laughing and telling stories, knowing each other all because of breakfast, well, it made this girl think. Especially when walking through the line of family doing the “meet and greet” and explaining ourselves as S’s bagel shop friends and getting a response of “Oh. More bagel people. Wow, I really need to come for bagels”!
Then lets add in the other group of friends at the funeral- the reenacting community our friend has been more fringe than active member of for many years, yet folks we see on a regular basis in other arenas. Some I met 18 years ago when I joined the hobby but hasn’t seen since, others I see regularly, even one who was my “movie husband” for a day a couple of years ago- nothing quite like introducing your husband to your other husband, right? The funny thing about reenacting friends is they’re awfully hard to recognize in funeral attire, but even when the clothes are different, the people are the same and just as much a part of my family of friends.
My conclusion on the night, it’s odd, this friendship business. The things that bring you together and turn into ties you can’t imagine severing. As a dedicated introvert, I never think of myself as having a large circle of friends and then a night like tonight happens and I realize just how bug my “family” really is. Its a heartwarming thing to see that family come out to support one of it’s own through difficult times ad makes me glad to know them all.
New year, new blog, new voice. That’s the theme I’m going with. Because shit went seriously sideways in 2016 and I’m still reeling from the aftermath.
A bit of background- I make stuff. Mostly using sticks and string, but I also make the string. And sometimes I like to dye stuff. Or sew stuff. Or do the science and turn water, lye and fats into soap. Or wire and beads into useful tools for making stuff with sticks and string. So I make stuff. A lot. Because in addition to making stuff, I suffer from an inability to sit still and my focus is sketchy if my hands aren’t kept busy. So I channel that into socks, sweaters, scarves, whatever the mood strikes me to make. But I’m always making things. My hubby likes to tell me I’d make a great hippy, but…
The but is the rub (but… rub… BUTT RUB! HA! I kill me. But also I digress). Cuz while I love to make stuff and be self sufficient, I also tend conservative politically. It used to be this just made me an odd duck, to be scoffed at but generally tolerated as long as I kept my mouth shut most of the time. The 2016 Presidential Election changed things. Instead of odd duck, I seem to have officially graduated to pariah. Which makes it really hard to be friends with my friends.
SO basically we get here because I’m sick of sticking to “safe” subjects. No where in my crafting life (which has expanded to cover most forms of social media at this point since many of my knitting and spinning friends are not local to me) do I have the freedom to say whatever is on my mind no matter the subject. So it was time for a new blog. Where I have no followers with reason to flounce out if I wanted onto a topic they dislike. This one’s just for me. If someone reads it, great, if not, whatev. I’m finding ME again and that’s all that matters. This is my shout into the void. If you read it, say hey!