Childish Aspirations

We all had them. The inevitable “I wanna be fill-in-the-blank when I grow up!” Some were funny, some realistic, and the majority outrageously and wondrously fantastical.

When I was five, I wanted to be a ballerina. But not just any ballerina. I wanted to be the first ballerina in space. Yes, your humble hostess wanted to be a ballerinaut. I had no idea how to achieve that. I lived in a remote area where there were no dance schools and no where near NASA. But I still had that dream. And that one wasn’t the weirdest, either. For a brief time, I wanted to raise exotic fish, which sounds pretty normal until you find out I lived in a mountainous area and the only exotic fish I knew was Flipper (yes, I know Flipper was a mammal, but he was a fish to a five-year-old). There was also the time I wanted to be a wood worker, like one of the neighbors. It was magical to watch him take a raw piece of lumber and make a baseball bat (could have been a billy club, for all I know. It was a rough neighborhood!). Oh, and I won’t bore you with the details of being a car recycler.

It’s funny, but looking back now, some of those wishes are not as impossible as they used to seem. Sure, I will never be a ballerinaut, but I know that even here in the hinterlands there is a market for exotic fish. As for reclycling cars (yes, I thought of doing stuff like that when I was 13), that is actually a thing now. And though it took me several decades and it’s not exactly wood working, I now do furniture restoration. Learning the different types of woods and how to restore them has been not just educational, but fun. Having those childish aspirations should be goals, not just dreams. I do believe it is your psyche trying to guide you towards maturity, giving you hints as to your hidden talents. So don’t ignore the little voice in your head reminding you of your aspirations. It’s your conscience trying to steer you towards your happiness. 😉

Into Each Life…

…. a little rain must fall. So goes the saying. I’ve never taken to it. I like the rain. No, I love the rain, even tempests and hurricanes. Rain is beneficial, even when it fosters destruction. The earth blooms anew, and that which was destroyed is rebuilt in a better way, or left as is for Nature to take over. So I always thought the saying to be positive, rather than negative.

That is part of my Pollyanna attitude towards Life.

I had made certain plans to clean the flowerbeds of weeds and old mulch, and plant azaleas, lavender, and oregano. But then, the skies opened and I was forced to stay inside, watching the sheets of rain outside my bedroom window being pushed by the wind. I have to admit, I was miffed for a bit. I had plans!! But soon enough, my miffiness was quelled as I witnessed those rivulets weaving meandering paths down the pane. Much like watching fish in an aquarium, I felt the irritation melt away and be replaced by serenity. Once the rain dwindled, I was again reminded of the newness that springs forth. The petrichor in the air is like valerian, and the birds come out to bathe in the pools. It’s rather like a fairytale, only none of them are offering to clean my house.

In all, the day was spent admiring nature. I don’t think it was a fail at all. 🙂

Ow(n)ing Time

So much for trying to write twice a week. But I can be forgiven for letting Life intrude.

I was perusing the Book of Faces when I saw a status of a HS friend complaining about calling a friend, who told him he had no time to talk, then seeing the same friend replying to several posts of mutual friends on the site. My friend felt slighted, almost as if his friend had purposely lied to avoid him. No matter what a person says about not having any time to talk, sometimes it can be revealed that they do indeed have time to talk on social media. That got me to thinking about Time, and the perceptions attached to it.

Last year, an old friend was chatting about how he wanted to get back into his old hobbies, but lamented how Time was his enemy. I told him that Time was just Time, and that he was the one stopping himself from pursuing his goals. We don’t own Time, and can be forgiven for failing to set aside some for others. Some people don’t manage giving time to others very well and others, like myself, give far too much of it and reserve very little for themselves. Either extreme is a bad habit, in my opinion. I have been described as an anchorite and sometimes I am waaaaaay too seen with that descriptor. That whole “making time” thing is nebulous. Setting time aside for fill-in-the-blank? That’s more tangible. Not easier, mind you. Just more likely to incentivize one to move towards a set goal.

I don’t necessarily think people are owed time. I do think that we owe it to ourselves to use our time to help establish and upkeep our social connections. We are social creatures, after all. Even my hermit friends enjoy touching base with humanity once in a while. Sometimes it’s difficult to stay in touch with old friends and with family. It feels like the longer you wait, the harder it is to just talk to an old friend. It has been my experience that giving time to reaching out tends to dissolve the awkwardness. It’s the same with hobbies and new goals. Taking the first step can be daunting, but knowing you have set aside time to take it helps one overcome the reluctance.

And with that, I must beg off. I set aside time for some stitching. 😉

Aggie’s Mailbag

Well, not really mail. But sometimes friends and social media personalities ask me questions pertaining about this here blog. Blogging isn’t as big as it used to be. But it’s still a *thing* in certain circles. I had stopped writing for a while, years really. I’m coming back to blogging slowly and have made progress, in between the tree-chopping, estate-sales’ing, furniture-restoring life I now lead. So, without further ado, let me answer the most popular FAQs.

“Are you an aspiring writer?”

Oh, good gawd, no. I have been accused of being a writer before, I admit. I also admit to writing short stories, poems, prose, anything I fancy. But I write to get the story out of my head. I don’t publish them, I don’t share them with anyone. I fill notebooks with my screeds, then toss them into a storage bin. And yes, they are recycled. I have toyed with the idea of serializing some of the stories here weekly, but A) they are silly and B) ain’t nobody got time for that.

“Is there a point to your blog??”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! No.

“Why don’t you talk about politics?”

That is a very good question, and it deserves a very thorough answer. As we all know, politics is downstream of culture, and culture being my discipline, it can make it hard to avoid politics. So I don’t answer the question lightly.

Politics suck.

“Why did you stop writing daily?”

This is difficult to explain. I can say I got busy with Life, or there were too many distractions. I suppose it was a combination of those, along with experiencing some downturns that left me at a loss. Flinging a tweet or two, or posting a status at the book-of-faces was simpler and didn’t take much effort. And so, I let the blog hibernate.

But I’m now trying to make an effort to write at least twice a week. I am using this as an outlet, not just for the sake of writing, but to purge myself of feeling of loss, anger, sadness, whatever negativity I may harbor. It’s a good way to turn things into positives. Commenting on random things in everyday life tends to bring out the small blessings I seem to miss.

“Any chance you will post recipes?”

Maybe? I’m no Julia Child, but I do own several of her books.

Well, that’s enough FAQ stuff for today. Have a good one!! 😀

Tears of a Clown

Yes, I am referring to myself. I am a very, shall we say, emotional gal. I am what some would call empathetic. Some would call me weak and too fragile. All I know is that certain things tend to open the floodgates, be it emotions, old stories, a cupcake, or in this case, MUSIC.

Everyone has one song or composition that stirs their soul, notes that stir memories or that just hit that chord (see what I did there??) and open the closed well of feelings. For some people, the music is tied to a memory. I admit there are some songs that stir up my tears for that reason. But there are some that are so beautiful, so passionate, that they burst the dam for no reason other than their existence. So here are my top five compositions that stir my soul and make me a blubbering mess.

#5 “Diary”

Bread

This song tells the story of a young man who finds a diary and after reading it, thinks the young woman he loves returns it in kind, only to figure out that she loves someone else. His wish for her happiness outweighs the loss in his heart.

#4 “Three Wooden Crosses”

Randy Travis

The tale of a tragic accident, a Bible, and the road to forgiveness and redemption is fitting for anyone, regardless of belief.

#3 “Moldau”

Bedrich Smetana

One of my favorite classical pieces, this symphonic poem tells the tales of the mighty river Vltava, or the Moldau as it is known in Germany from where it forms from two springs, and how it flows through the valleys, pastures, gorges, until it reaches Prague. The serenity and joy captivates you, the tumultuous rhythm as the “waters” become rough seize around your mind, and the glorious triumph as the waters come to flow into the grand city bring a tear, or two.

#2 “Hurt”

Johnny Cash

I don’t think I can adequately express what this song means to me, or to most people. I daresay everyone can identify with its message of the need to feel pain, in order to feel alive.

#1 “Nessun Dorma”

Giacomo Puccini

Quite possibly the most famous tenor aria in opera, the song tells of the night which no one will sleep. The princess Turandot has commanded every servant to find out the name of her latest suitor and if they fail, they will all be put to death. The suitor, Calaf, sings triumphantly that he will win her courtship because it is impossible for anyone to know his true identity. The opera is one of the most controversial since Puccini was unable to finish it. Yet the aria’s notes of triumph overshadow that failure.

So, there you have my embarrassing admission. There are more, but these are the ones I turn to when I need a release from stress or pain, and leave a space for joy to take root. Paraphrasing Beethoven, music should put fire in a man’s heart, and tears in a woman’s eyes. I’m pretty sure he was right 😉

Candy is Dandy!

With the Lent Season arriving tomorrow, I am in a bit of a rush to consume my stash of sugary goodies. I am not a big junk food eater, but I do have my favorites. There are usually a few dozen chocolate chip cookies to be found in a jar, or some Twinkies in a bowl. But the most treasured are found in the covered compote that holds my beloved chocolates.

I was not a big fan of chocolate growing up, but as I grew older, I grew wiser for sure. Chocolate is a cure-all for me. Headache? Godiva truffles. Soreness? M&M’s. Cold? Lindt bar. Flu? Ghirardelli Squares. Chocolate releases endorphins, which give you positive emotions and reduce pain perception. It gives a feeling of comfort and well-being, and certain compounds in chocolate are similar to certain anti-depressant chemicals in our brains, which mimic the feeling of falling in love. It is truly the perfect food!!

As much as I love chocolate, I won’t eat any with almonds, cashews, and very few with peanuts (exceptions being Snickers). I’m sure that’s heretical to some of you. And no, I can’t eat any “spicy” chocolate, either. The flavor profile is incredible but it hurts, so no-go. But sea salt and dark chocolate?? SIGN ME UP!!

I never claimed to be perfect, just quirky.

Anyway, time is running out, and there is chocolate to consume. Feel free to comment on your favorite chocolate. It will give me something to look forward to savoring come Easter. 😉

Zen and the Art of Monotony

There is a certain satisfaction in the monotonous. Sounds a bit odd to say, but I do find it calming to do a monotonous task.

I used to volunteer to cut up ALL the Box Tops for the local schools. I’m talking THOUSANDS of Box Tops from dozens of teachers at three campuses. I would sit at the breakfast table and make two piles per teacher: those to trim correctly, and those that were unusable. Once that was done, I would put on Vivaldi and begin the task of trimming each itty bitty coupon. It only counted if you cut on the dotted lines!!! Many parents would tear the entire top flap of the cereal box or include the whole can label. Still, I was in the zone, my Zen was unshakeable. Once done with one pile, I would write the teacher’s name, room number, and school on a zip bag. And I would finish just in time to start dinner and deal with pandemonium.

Monotony can serve to clear the fog. I can sit and do a repetitive task and feel my mind clearing, the thought process sharpening. Of course, that can make me a bit dangerous. One time, I ended up rearranging the furniture in the den, twice in one day. That isn’t…. right. And of course, there was the time I decided it was a great idea to take a machete to the loquat tree. Admittedly, I’ve done that often, but not in the rain.

I am a big fan of monotony. Some people find comfort in the repetition. Others like it because they don’t have to deal with the unknown. But for me, it’s the focus. It helps me center myself as it helps me to relax. I was often called boring when I was young…er. I would like to think that it developed into serenity, something which used to be fleeting but now I see as eternal. Finding your Zen is important, not just mentally but overall. Luckily, the search isn’t difficult.

But trust me, you may not find it in Box Tops 😉

Hunkering Down

Winter has arrived.

Supreme BS. But inevitable.

This is the time of year when I hibernate from my usual projects. I avoid working outside as much as possible because frankly, I am allergic to cold (not really). But I was born in the tropics, and raised in very South Texas. So *cold* and I do NOT mix. But I do respect it. Over there.

Frosty woods across the lake

Waaaaay over there.

Anyway, with the dip in temps come the change in habits. Since I can’t really spend time working on furniture outside, I have to find stuff to keep busy indoors. That whole “idle hands” thing is, well, a thing. Apparently the 70s are calling because in addition to cross-stitching, I have gotten back into macrame. I always found it soothing to work knots into some fancy design, and one can always use a plant hanger, amirite?? Also, after dabbling in acrylics, I decided to start painting on canvases, not just rocks. I am not an aspiring artist by any stretch, and will most likely paint over my mistakes, or toss the canvases to the burn pile. And if those hobbies were not enough, I am also doing some finger knitting. I used to crochet, so this new technique should be fun. I hope the finished product is a success, but the point is to keep learning, keep broadening horizons. Keep busy and not go crazy.

I might be too late on the latter.

But until the shipment of yarn and jute arrives, I have books to keep me busy 😉

*sets post on fire*

Starting off 2024 with a conflagration of bad takes and unpopular opinions.

Why?

Because I can!!!

I admire those who make resolutions, even when they think they fail to meet their own expectations. Setting goals is healthy physically, emotionally, and mentally. But I am not one to make resolutions. I would rather wait to see what piques my interest before committing to setting a goal. That is why instead of a blog post on resolutions, I decided it was better to start social media battles with some well-thrown Molotovian opinions.

I like pineapple on pizza. BBQ should stay off pizza.

Cilantro is good.

Bacon binds us, unless it’s in vodka.

Phone calls are better than texts.

P’Shop is da debbil and camera filters a bane.

A good steak needs only salt and *maybe* one herb.

Boneless wings are just adult chicken nuggets.

Batman is the best superhero.

No such thing as too many pairs of shoes.

There is such a thing as too many pairs of pants.

That’s it for now. I am sure to get some *ahem* commentary on my opinions. But that’s what they are: OPINIONS. They aren’t right or wrong. They just are. That’s what I love about the conflagrations on social media. Everyone has a different opinion and will die on their personal hill. I love the lighthearted disagreements, because they provide a humorous break from the bleak and the somber. So remember that going forward: it’s all in good fun.

And also, candy corn is awesome. 😉

Embracing My Inner Magpie

What can I say? I’m a girl.

Two years ago, plans were made to celebrate my father’s 90th birthday. It was going to be held in a venue, with lots of friends and family attending, and even requiring After Five attire. I was excited. I seldom get to go out and preen like a quetzal (peahens are rather drab). So I acquired velvet pants and a gorgeous sweater and bling for the occasion. I also decided to give in to the craze, and get myself a pair of Betsey Johnson sparkly booties. Y’all, I was channeling disco ball vibes!!

Now, as much as I love shoes, I did not own anything so blatantly SHOWY. But, you only die once, and should make the effort to live every day, right? I was set, until my mom announced a change of venue and change of attire. But I would not be defeated!!! I still packed up my pretties and was literally the only one dressed for a ball at my folks house. It made for interesting conversation, as in my shoes were both admired (by the younger set) and ridiculed (by the older set). Fun was had by everyone and my dad still makes fun of my magpie shoes.

And that was the last time they saw daylight. Until yesterday.