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Archive for July, 2018

The gradual evolution to a more sophisticated life form continues following a viscerally typical night last night, my second night in my bed after sleeping a few months in the La Zee Boy recliner in the living room, recuperating from the broken ribs “opportunity.” The FriDAY had been  a challenge. I arrived home wanting to “chill.” At my house that means drinking Carlo Rossi Burgundy until I surrender to an early evening nap in a darkening living room (as the sun goes down), listening to NPR turned down so I can barely hear it and don’t have to listen to the words. Usually I’m asleep before 8, awaken around 11 or 12,  have dinner and read or piddle around with the Internet until getting sleepy and returning to recliner-borne slumber that lasts until 6:30 am, when I arise to beat . . . and meet . . . the new day.
Friday night, on my bed, it took me forever to fall asleep, even with significant help from Mr. Rossi. The mattress was too hard (I wasn’t used to the bed again), I couldn’t find a good spot, despite the comfortable temperature.  I finally gave up, Engaged Carlo some more, sought departure from consciousness in the recliner with NPR on — just PERFECTLY low . . .  and was asleep in a few mins. Good news: I slept very well and arose with a clear head and heart.

After checking the email and Facebook I decided to have a CONVENTIONAL  Saturday: no obsessing with my aviation passion, no picking up around the house, doing what purely neutral (no lingering regret, no longing for  what I don’t have) CONVENTIONALITY  would lead me to do.

On the way to my car (a Dodge Caravan actually, but “car” make the point) I pulled some overgrown grass  from the crack between walk and first step at the base of my front porch (good deed for the day DONE) rolled down the passenger side window (which I can’t do when belted in and driving) saddled up in the left seat and headed west. First stop: Office Depot for some tape and ink for the office printer. I felt confident and CONVENTIONAL. Not even the slow drivers, which seem as magnets to my front bumper, bothered me.  People — perfect strangers — smiled at me and I smiled back.  I knew I needed to buy some vegetation killer for the unwanted overgrowth living rent-free in cracks in my driveway, I was slightly annoyed to be so far away from the closest hardware store. My eyes wandered as I was about to turn right onto a main street and was delighted to see the building once occupied by a garden-variety K-Mart-ish store was now a huge new Farm and Family store. So I drove across the street instead of across town and bought a small “dose.” I also wandered around inside. Spacious! Gracious! Some state fairs could have fit into the store. I felt incredibly CONVENTIONAL during the visit:  people doing their thing,  smiling. The checkout was a breeze. More smiles, convivial banter between  perfect strangers at the register and a few others who seemed to sense kinship with another human being which I sensed I resembled during the interfacing.

Finally  a fast stop at my fave supermarket Hy-Vee for a few items; three prepared salads (dinner for today, Sunday and Monday) instant tea mix and coffee, nothing fancy. I’ll never see “fancy” again, and that’s okay.

The weeks between my most recent Honey & Quinine post and this one have  been challenging — former delinquent renters — with my PERMISSION (one way to look at it) — are  still driving me NUTS. I believe that they will be the death of me, and that will be okay. On Facebook last week I learned something about the value of forgiving. I’ll explain more in a future  Hon & Qui. I paid the first of two installments of my real estate taxes yesterday.  I wasn’t sure it would happen until it DID – another miracle.  A friend from the aviation community GAVE me a window air conditioner that is perfect for my  home office where my bed is also. Installed it two days ago, works like charm, and today it’s not even running because things have cooled down wonderfully.

. . . . Thanks for reading this post.

Live long . . . . . and proper.

 

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