Sunday, August 28, 2016

Writing Assignments

60 Word Nano Stories

*
I abhorrently used femininity as an excuse to be lazy on the farm so I wouldn't have to pitch as much hay or manure as my brothers. But when they'd accuse me of not pulling my weight I'd dive into a task and hope that if they told my dad I'd be found up to my elbows in pig shit.

*
We used to graze our milk cows in the ditches to conserve pasture. Four hours a day, every day, all summer. If a cow crossed a broken down fence into the neighbours' and cut up her teats there was hell to pay. The sky was impossibly blue. The wind weathered our faces. The horse flies bit chunks out of our skin.

*
Hazel eyes sparkle – squinting and grinning. Shaking hair like a mane. Strawberry stained lips, cheeks, fingers. Small arms reach hugs and kisses, “Hi, Eena! Hi!” Shrill voice patronizing yet so sweet. Chubby legs kick in delight. Gummy smile spilling strawberry slop on last night’s pyjamas. Blue eyes crinkle. Bright sunshine in the summer kitchen makes angels out of both. Sisters. 




100 Words On Departures

In Darkness, sparrows and robins have begun loudly making their daily plans as the mourning doves’ lament coos three part harmony in the moist air. A thread of light is birthed in the east and the grey shroud begins to evaporate exposing wells of colour beneath. Breath of dawn expands in the lungs of birds, trees, sky. Old Man Moon, still bright, hides his visage behind the trees as he makes a hasty escape. Clouds play an orchestra of purples, pinks, gold across a firmament young and ancient. Immeasurable verve begins the dance of the day. Unnoticed, night departs.



Ode to the Potty

O life of peace and diapers depart from me!
Thou hast lulled me into a stupor of simplicity and ease
Where I could come and go at my whim,
Hours tediously carefree.
But No more!
My life, now ever more compelling, abounds in
bargains and careful contemplation.
“To pee, or not to pee,” before undertaking any endeavour:
This is the question.
Once unhappily leisurely, days are now filled with puzzlement.
“Mommy! I’m DONE!” Lies spurt forth like diarrhea
After gorging on seafood entrees at a
Saskatchewan truck stop.
Can I trust this tiny tot’s emphatic pronouncements?
These are the riddles that breathe life into
Previously uneventful days.
I relent.
Wearily satisfied by untruths
And receive the hearty reward:
Soft and pungent evidence of the dupe.
Foul words fall from my lips like so much defecation
Spilling forth from toddler’s shorts.
Time has been a villain until now -
Permitting frivolity and devil-may-care!
Now - O - potty training
Thou induce order and acuteness to this life of laxity!
Hemming in thoughts, actions, and creativity;
Attuning the senses to one small mortal in one small chamber.
Pray! Make me privy to your secrets
As I contemplate this discipline confined to
Education’s stool.
Potty - well of wisdom, sharpener of focus, throne of patience,
Let not your lessons be evacuated from my consciousness.




- Peace

Saturday, July 30, 2016

The One That Got Away.

I have something I wish I didn't. And it isn't an infection. Maybe you've had one of these: a friendship that was pivotal, important, consuming and fulfilling in your life and is now missing. I have one of those. I've had it for nearly 10 years. There have been many friends who are beautiful and amazing and moved out of my life and it has been ok. They were for a time, and what a wonderful time, but because of circumstances the time has passed.  My life is better for having had those people, but it is ok that I move on from them.

But I have one friendship in particular that feels like “the one who got away.” 

This woman, she is a babe. And so smart and sweet and opinionated. She is so different from me. She was the yin to my yang. For about four years I wasn't quite me without her. We were equally slobby. We drank the same liquor – rye and coke as all good farm girls drink starting out. She taught me that milk from cardboard cartons really does taste better than from plastic. When we would get mad or claustrophobic, we would take the other for a walk. A long, fast walk in the winter air, so that at the end of it, our eyelashes were covered in frost and we could hardly feel our legs they were so cold. We worked at McDonalds together. Pierced our belly buttons together – well, not together literally, but at the same time. Lived together. Cooked runny eggs and toast for hangovers. Had our first taste of adulthood together. Our first boyfriends. Our first place. We spent holidays with each other's families. We knew everything about each other. We pushed each other's buttons, made each other cry, drove each other crazy. Loved each other.

But we grew apart, and she moved too far away to casually drive up for an afternoon tea.

To be honest, I think it was all my fault. I think she got away from me because I lost her. When I think back on our friendship I see countless times that she helped me, but it makes me wonder if I ever really helped her.

I was so young. 18. Too young to know anything worthwhile. Or at least too young and inexperienced to apply anything I knew of value. In some ways, we kind of grew up together; those first few baby-adult years away from home. As we were finding ourselves, we were also finding our mates, our voices, our paths, opinions and hearts. When I look back I am amazed at how much I changed between 18 and 22. And since then. I mean, there are core things about my personality that are the same; but I hope I have grown in maturity and grace – something I sorely lacked in those early adult years. 

While I was 18, I also found God. And I am not saying that in a facetious way. I had a legitimate, moving, experience with the Risen Christ and that became a big defining characteristic of my identity – as it still does, even more now. But I was young and wise, and uneducated about things like the baggage churches bring with them, as well as trying to define my own identity and belief system based on almost zero experience outside a farm kid existence.  Well, it was easy to pick things up that should be left on the ground. And it was easy to believe in absolutes. And it was hard to live one way without seeing it as the only way. I let people who weren't any more mature than I was teach me lessons they really knew nothing about. I became somewhat of a zealot, and a hypocritical one at that. It doesn't really lend itself to bff material. 

So there was that. 

Plus I was often a super sarcastic d-bag. I thought I was funny. 

I was also dating my first boyfriend. And, as everybody knows, making out time seriously cuts into friend time. And that boyfriend eventually, during those four years, turned into fiancĂ© and husband. I was married before I graduated from University, and that can really separate a girl from her old crowd. Not because they ostracized me, but because being married has a bunch of responsibilities and expectations that set you apart from the not married crowd. It isn't bad, it just is what it is. 

Finally, there was graduation and the inevitable moving away to find jobs. It was kind of the last wedge that split the entwining of our trees of life apart.

We tried to keep in touch for a bit. Write letters.The occasional visit. But it all dried up too quickly. And I was busy with life, so while I missed her, I didn't pursue her. What a silly girl I was.

Instinctively I knew she shouldn't be one of those friends who drift into and out of life. She should be one of the Ones. There are precious few people who settle into one's soul in life, and they should not be neglected. They should be fought for and pursued. They should be treasured. Kept close in your breast pocket, next to your heart so you can feel the weight of them as a comfort on your way. I didn't know how to do that. The years grew and grew the space until it turned into a broken old sidewalk with weeds sprouting all up in the cracks and the distance was so great and the path so untravelled I didn’t know how to get started down it. 

I think I have a chance to walk it now.

I guess all I really want to say is sorry. Sorry for being a stupid “Christian” and letting that push you away. Sorry for letting other relationships push ours too far to the side. Sorry that I didn't pursue you once I noticed the gap forming. Sorry I didn't write. 

I hope that we can be friends again.

I miss you.


Peace.

Monday, May 23, 2016

The Dreadliest Catch

Dread Update!

Let me start by saying that I just wasn’t cool enough to rep the dreads to their full potential.

It was a struggle. I knew it was going to be. I knew they were a lot of work. I knew they needed some serious love and attention if I wanted them to look tidy and tight and kempt - yes, I do believe dreads can look kempt. Alas, the vision of tight, ropy, waist-length dreads, adorned with shells and coloured twine skyrocketing my coolness level to unimaginable heights was not to be. I cut them off.

I had one dread that was two years old, and it was beautiful. It fell nicely, it was tight, it had a big ass bead on it. It was the example I knew could be achieved if I dedicated two solid years to allow the dreads to mature. Fuzzy, loopy, and I had a bunch of rogue hairs lose all over the place.  This would be my hair reality for dos anos unless I put in some serious maintenance or had serious patience. Or went blind. The issue was multiplied because I have just experienced postpartum hair loss. It’s a thing. I have thousands of fine downy hairs all over my head. New growth from the molting event that recently occurred. And believe it or not, all those new hairs don’t know they are supposed to tuck themselves nicely into dreads. As a result they just stick out everywhere. Its really attractive. Trust me.


I had honestly considered cutting them off around Christmas, but I had some encouraging people who helped me rally for a few more months.  I thought I could hold on until two years. I really did. I thought I had set my resolve. But one Sunday night, after a shower, I was lamenting the ability to scratch my whole scalp at once and as I crawled into bed with my family for some down time before we went to sleep, I voiced the unimaginable:

“Should I cut these dreads off?”

“Yes!” - my husband hates the dreads.

He patiently let me run where my hippy heart would, but he did not like the mass of snarls and scratchy ropy tresses that now graced my noggin. I mentioned when I started this journey, that I am a short haired girl. I haven’t looked like myself in almost 4 years. Neither of us thought so.

Not Me. (2016)



Me. (2006)











The hubs didn’t just immediately jump on the “hack off the dreads” band wagon. He actually questioned me first. Was this a knee jerk moment? Was this something I was going to regret doing? Was this the first moment I had thought about cutting the dreads? I appreciate that he gave me space to make my own decision here instead of pushing his anti-dread agenda.

After waffling back and forth for a few minutes, I just went and did it. One at a time I used a pair of dull scissors and literally hacked each one off. I had all kinds of longish strands that were sticking out all over. Nothing was even. It looked like a huge mess. And then I had another shower to wash all the extra shorties and loose hair out. And it felt amazing. A.MAZE.ING!

Take a minute to drink in this masterpiece.
Like a train-wreck, it is hard to look away from.
I’ve got to be honest - the dreads were just not jiving with me and my lifestyle. In fact, because I am a short haired girl at heart, I didn’t like the way the dreads looked when they were hanging down around my face. As a result I kept them up most of the time and the extra weight sticking out from the back of my head made my neck hurt. And it bumped into the headrest in my car. I had to pile them up on top of my head or take my messy dread bun out to drive. When a hairstyle starts causing one pain, it is probably time to give up on it.



Also, they weren’t working with being a mom for me. They would get in the kids’ faces, and they weren’t nice to cuddle with. Not to mention how I would sprawl them across my pillow at night. It doesn’t really create space for kids or spouses to come close and cuddle. (Not that I am opposed to the space - I am not a cuddler - but they all are, and they all need some of that physical attention from me.)

So Monday I called a hair salon to see if I could get the hack job cleaned up, and I was fit in that afternoon. And finally after years growing my hair and about 10 months of dreads, I am a short haired girl again.


I LOVE IT. I was a little worried that I wouldn’t look right - maybe I was too chubby now for short hair. But for real. I feel like a babe. I am so happy to be back to me. And my husband has been enjoying rubbing my short hair head and snuggling up closer than he has been able to since my thick hair started getting some serious length.

I talked with some of the girls I have met since moving - they only know me with long hair/dreads so this is a big change for them. Everyone has been super enthusiastic about the hair, but I was talking to a girl about how we both tend to start projects or skills or whatever and not finish them. She jokingly said that she had failed herself so many times that she didn't want to start something new. I am not looking at this as a failure. I tried something that many people won't try. It was a long term commitment - growing my hair and putting in the dreads and letting them mature as much as I could - and I did it. No one helped me. I gave it my best shot. And in the end I found out it wasn't me. That I already knew who me was in the hair department and I am back there. Do I regret the time I spent doing this thing? Not at all. It was a rad journey that I can talk about and gave me some insights I would have never gotten if I hadn't walked this road. Try things out. Even if in the end you revert back to what you knew before - it isn't actually regression. It is an experience and a stretching. And my hair might be back to "normal" now - but I KNOW more about who I am because I walked out a different image for a while.

Thus ends a narcissistic chapter of my life in hair.

Peace.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Discontent Part 2

Contributing Factors
So feeling discontented has got to be coming from somewhere. Last post I outlined areas in my life I feel discontent with. I don't want to be a person who lives with an uneasy feeling, packing it around like whiny child and pretending that this is how it's supposed to be. I want resolution! Where are some of these feelings coming from? Let's break it down.
1.     Pinterest Stress. I Admit it. It is an embarrassing thing to admit to, and I loathe the title: Pinterest Stress. I wish there was something more dignified to call it - but there it is. This awful phrase is an over simplification of a sort of over arching problem of too much social media. There are just so many AMAZING things going on in people’s lives, I get excited about them all and I think I should be doing ALL THE THINGS. Here is a brief glimpse of all the things that inspire parts of my heart mind or soul:

a.    Living with no furniture! This is an article about Katy Bowman and her family and how they have no chairs and they basically sleep on the floor and go barefoot all the time in the name of good health!  Love.
b.   Living in a Tent! While building a homestead! You can check out this super rad adventure at firsttimefarmers.com
Figure 1: Photo credits to @firsttimefarmers via Instagram



c.    Giving my kids adventurous, outdoor exploration and appreciation like Wild Explorers Club

Figure 2 Photo Credit to @nicolebianchi_ Instagram - via @wildexplorersclub

d.    Getting rid of basically everything we own and living a minimalist lifestyle.  Amanda Gregory is maxing minimalism in a beautiful way @mytinytribe on Instagram.
Figure 3: Photo Creds to @mytinytribe via Instagram

All her kids’ toys fit in that one basket. I kid you not. #my_minimalist_mondays
e.    Jumping into a van/bus/air-stream/tin-can/old motor-home and driving across the planet experiencing all there is to take in in this wild wide world. Check out one such adventure at www.americanfrolic.com
Figure 4: Photo Creds to @americanfrolic via Instagram

All of these examples are just a small smattering of the amazing things I have been reading about and wanting to do. I could list about 10 other things here - many of which are diametrically opposed to each other - that catch my attention and my heart. I mean, how can I travel the world and have a homestead? It ain’t gonna happen. In fact, as I was beginning to identify this as a thing in my brain, the Holy Spirit spoke some very profound words to me: “Mind your own business and do your laundry.” TouchĂ©.


2.    I am into year two of my life being drastically different than it has been in the past 10 years. The past ever, actually. I’ve never been a stay at home mom before, and “busy” for me used to mean I ran from one activity to the next, visiting with friends, teaching high school or running youth ministry. Suppers with people, movie dates, marking, planning retreats, meetings with fellow teachers or youth ministers who were excited about doing rad and creative things for kids. These days “busy” means that life moves so slowly, that once you take out meals and naps and the prep and time each involves, we can only do two other things in a day - if we are lucky. Clean. Take the dog for a walk. Go to a parent link activity. Visit friends. Bake. Pick up dog poo. Garden (if the kids allow it). Do something creative like write or sew or knit (if the kids allow it). Go to a park. Go to the backyard. And if I want to go do something myself - well that happens on Wednesday evening for 75 minutes. I go to an exercise class. If the kids allow.

These are pretty simple things. These things are my life. On the one hand, THESE THINGS ARE MY LIFE!!!!!! On the other hand, these things are my life.

This is what I like t call, the lack of the “Big Show.” I used to be a player in the “Big Show.” Now I am stage directing a “Little Show.”

I could list more things I guess, but really it comes down to these things. Actually it seems to all boil down to one thing now that I have it written out: lack of perceived adventure.
Perceived because I am on a journey right now that I have never been on before - so this season is inherently adventurous. Hmmmmmm. - I was expecting this post to take a different route. I was going to lay out a whole bunch of things and solve each problem. Funny how when I write things down through the course of a few weeks there is unexpected revelation.

Stay tuned for part three which I can see taking shape in my mind’s eye as I type: ways I am truly living adventure - a mind shift.



Peace.

Saturday, March 5, 2016

Discontent - Part 1


Spiritual Prompting or Stir Crazy?


You know when you have a good day – like a peaceful, slow paced, content kinda day. Maybe you get to spend some quiet time reading.  Maybe the kids are super endearing. Maybe it feels like you have not a care in the world. I just had one of those days. It really was nice and peaceful.  But then I looked in the mirror.  – Now please know this isn't a hate on myself post. I - like everyone – have those weak moments, but as a rule I don't let them track me around and I shake them off with truths that far outweigh any negativity that tries to hang itself around my neck.

Anyway, I looked in the mirror, and I thought to myself – you are a hot mess. And I vocalized this sentiment to my husband.  We had just been to a five year old's birthday party where I met some new people from my community and while I was there I also noted that I seriously needed some under arm charm. I was stinky. I was the stinky mom. I admit, it is harder to find time to shower as a mom than it was when there weren't little bodies in my constant care, but I would by no means say that I neglect personal hygiene. (Yes I have dreadlocks, but I keep them clean.) But I was smelly that day and I am still at the beginning of a health and weight loss journey that doesn't seem to be going super great. Not to mention having a toddler and too much stuff means that I sometimes feel like I live in a chaotic mess. Basically I was just feeling discontented about everything.  And it came on me suddenly after a fairly content and low key day.

What is the root of this nagging sense of un-rightness in my life? Did this feeling just come upon me out of nowhere or is it something I have been carrying around?

After the hot mess comment, my husband tried, unsuccessfully, to tease me and I couldn't shake this downer, nagging feeling for the rest of the night. As bedtime was approaching, I handed him my phone to read a Facebook article while I put the toddler in her jammies and helped her get cleaned up. We communed for prayers on her queen sized mattress and as we settled down I said, “I feel like I am in the winter of my discontent.”

What the crap am I discontent about?

To the untrained eye everything in my life is tickety-boo. Because it is! I don't have very many hardships.  Like basically none. There is nothing for me to complain about. So what is this feeling about? What areas of life am I not content with?

1.     My spirituality. I want to live my faith more authentically. I want it to be the centre of everything I do, the decisions I make, the way I raise my kids and  how I live out my marriage with my husband. I want it to permeate EVERYTHING.  
2.    My consumerist/entitled/wasteful lifestyle. I could use the old qualifier, “I'm not as bad as most.” But seriously.  That is weak. Who cares what “most” do? What do I DO? That's the real question and the only variable I can control!  So please, Wynder, cut the thin excuses and take a hard look at how you love (live).
3.    My health and fitness.  I have dreams in this area. Dreams of being able to do serious back country backpacking. Dreams of being able to do chin ups. Dreams of inversion yoga. Dreams of strength and flexibility that follow me well into my old age. Energy that matches my kids. Dreams of being able to have self control when it comes to sugar in my life. I'm not there.
4.    My messy house. We are not hoarders by any means; the pathways through our stuff are at least big enough to shuffle past another person, but honestly.  I would like my floor spaces to be empty and the flat surfaces of my life to be used for more than just collecting things like mail and tools I am too lazy to put away.  The boxes and things we haven't used since we moved need to go. What is my problem?
5.    My creativity.  I am a creative person, although it took me about a million years to realize it. But I haven't utilized the creative outlets available to me as best I could.


Five seems to be a significant number for me these days because I had five goals for this year. Here are five things I feel the need to pursue and change, but how oh how does one balance a list of five things, each of which could be a life's pursuit? 

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

7 Quick Takes - Take 1

7 Quick Takes

I haven't posted in almost 5 months! Where has the time gone? In an effort to cover a lot of ground quickly, I am going to try out this "7 Quick Takes" approach!

1.      Dreadlings. They are a little dread-full. I won’t lie. I knew I was getting in a little over my head (oh the puns) when I put them in. I had an idea that these suckers would require some attention, and I knew I was about to have a newborn and a toddler maxing out my time. I have to admit that I nearly cut them off. It has only been 6 months since I put the last ones in, and I KNOW it takes a solid year to really start to see them as dreads and not just a bunch of tangles. I almost didn’t have the staying power - and that was always my fear when I put them in - that I would be all, “yeah! Cool!” when I started followed quickly by, “I give up.” But at Christmas, some of the girls I am getting to know in my town were so enthusiastic about them that I had some renewed hope. And when I finally did sit down and put some effort into them, I got encouraging results. I still have a huge matted chunk or two on the back of my head. Conga dreads to the MAX. But if I take the time to snip them apart, and work them into themselves with my little crochet hook and wrap the bases of the ones I have completed with some elastics to try to keep things separate then I really like the way things are going! So I am going to persevere. It seems silly when I write it out. Who puts so much work into tangling their hair? Don’t I have something better to do with my life? Maybe I do. Maybe that’s why they are such a mess right now.


2.      Lent.  I wrote a big paragraph just now about what I was giving up and my strategy and my excuses for sucking so hard last year. Deleted.  I was reminded the sacrifices God wants are not the ones I boast about on my blog. Thanks H.S. for catching me before I put a huge foot in my mouth.  Dear Lord, help me to seek you this season, and every time I feel the twinge of my cravings be reminded of what real sacrifice is and then go live that.

3.       MY BOOK!!!! So I mentioned before that I havebeen writing with a group called “Family Secrets” and we are self-publishing a book!!!! And we are having a Gala Book Launch on March 7, 7-9 pm at the Kootenai Brown Museum in Pincher Creek. Come. There will be wine. And so many good stories to share. The book is officially titled, Family Secrets 27 Mostly True Stories by Southern Alberta Authors. I can’t believe I am going to have a legitimate publication. (Self published - but published nonetheless!)


4.       King Sized Bed. If you have a family - especially with little people, it is my opinion that you need a king sized bed. It is like having an office. Almost all of life can take place in this location. Right now, in my “office” I am working on my blog, hanging out with a three month old, folding laundry, changing diapers, working on my dreads, communicating via social networks, and reading. Ok. I am not doing all of those things this very second, but all of the elements for these activities surround me and I have done all of these things in this location in the past hour or two. MUST HAVE.

just a small view from the "office"

5.       New Year Goals. I have 5 goals this New Year - and not all of them have definitive end results, so I guess maybe they technically aren’t goals, but I hate the word “resolutions” so I am going with goals. Here they are and very briefly how I plan to accomplish them:

a.       Lose 30 pounds. It is kind of nerve racking for me to put that out there - but I DO need to lose some weight. Thirty pounds isn’t a crazy amount. But it isn’t a little amount either. I am cutting refined sugar from my diet and I have been exercising three times a week plus trying to go for daily walks. #losehatenotweight #loseweighttoo
I've been working on this goal since a few months after my first babe was born.
Time to get it wrapped up!

b.      Write more. I am motivated to write more because of the Family secrets compilation, so I am going to continue to follow this dream. I am going to try to journal five days a week, using writing posts sometimes, as well as try to post to my blog at least monthly - but hopefully more.
c.       Read more. I’d like to read 12 books this year. One a month. It shouldn’t be too challenging if I can learn to limit my social media time. Also reading improves writing. I’ll let you know what books I have finished. Another strategy will be to try to keep some reading material near where I do most of my nursing. Like here, in my “office.”
An old anthology of Grey Owl's writing. First published 1938.

d.      Simplify life. This basically means purge things out of my house/life. I’ve been through my clothes. I have a big closet that is next and a buffet/hutch to clean out and ship out. And toys. How could these two tiny people already have acquired so much STUFF? I constantly have a box on the go where I chuck stuff to go to the thrift store down the street.
e.      Get my dreads under control. See quick take #1.

6.       I feel like I have said enough. So consider this early dismissal. You may go outside and play now.



Peace.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Update on Dreadlocks

The finished product *for now*
I also trimmed my own bangs because who needs to pay a hairdresser?
#frugal #cheap

Well, the dreads are all in. I finally got the last ones knotted up the first weekend in August, which was a huge relief.  I had been trying to get them done for two months.  I don't know if I should mark June as their birthday or August, but it will make me feel more accomplished to say June,  so I'll probably go with that.  I really thought once my husband was on summer vacation that I'd have nothing but time to sit and back comb my hair and that I'd get them done in a couple of days. But then he was off work and I just wanted to hang out with him! So we hiked a lot and went for walks or took our little one to the park. Or did some renovations. Turned out that the time I had to work on my dreads was mostly in the vehicle as we drove to places to have fun! So it took a lot longer to wrap them up than I had anticipated.
On top of Mt. Albert in Beauvais Lake Provincial Park

And now, my friends, the maintenance. I am already behind on it and as a result have some dreadlocks forming congas at the roots. As well, my hair is supa fuzzy on top. And everywhere. I did a couple hours worth of maintenance on the top/front dreadlocks because I had a wedding to attend and wanted to try to tame the beast a bit, but that was last week and today I couldn't really tell I had done anything.  I NEED to get back at it because I have just a few short weeks until I am going to seriously neglect them for months! There is a user I follow on Instagram called @wonderlocks and they posted a video on YouTube about how to deal with congas and how to prevent them.  I haven't watched it. I probably should. Instead, I just cut them apart if I can't pull them apart and use my crochet hook to try and tighten those roots up. I partly think I am doing it wrong and partly think, "What the crap. They are just big knots. How could there possibly be a wrong way to make them?" 

After all, I do what I want.

There are occasions in life I believe in taking the time to watch a YouTube video or six to learn something before you try it. Like I did before I started this whole dreadlock journey.  Or when I learned to drywall. But this is not one of those times. The few minutes it would take me to find, watch, and evaluate the usefulness of these videos is more than I am willing to spend.  I could just be doing the maintenance with that time. Or reading my kid "The Gruffalo" one more time. Or writing. Or cleaning/cooking/gardening/laundering/some other useful if tedious task required in the keeping of a household. There is a time for trolling the internet for information and there is a time to just work it out on your own.

So I am up late drafting a blog post instead of dealing with my conga situation. Late because I spent an hour scrolling through Instagram. Bah. 

*I know complaining about social media in a blog post is kind of biting the hand that feeds, but this blog makes me no money. I also know I am going to link this post on my Instagram and Facebook pages in hopes some of you friendly people out there read it, so there is also that irony, but I am going to go a head and share my struggle with the mindless scroll anyway.*

I need to also get a handle on my social media habits.  Time to trim back on the screen time and think more about my creative time, family time and necessary task time. Although in the past couple of days I have made 4 extra freezer meals swept the floors (which I do plan to wash tomorrow) and wiped down the bottom half of the kitchen walls. Thanks to no Insta' or Facebook during the day. I don't know if I'm nesting, realized I only have limited time to accomplish some of these pressing tasks, or am experiencing social media freedom, but I am grateful to have those things done. I like looking at the walls and seeing significantly less dirt streaks and fingerprints. 

Tomorrow I'll be satisfied with washing the floors, finishing the design work on an anthology project I am part of, and actually doing some work on these dreads. On top of the regular things like little kid music class and having my friend and her kids over for lunch. (UPDATE: The floors never got washed, I still need to wrap up that design work, and I finally worked on my dreads about two days after I wrote the draft of this post for about an hour. Life, my friends.)

I had better get to bed. Looks like a big day tomorrow.

Peace