I’ve been waffling all day long about trimming that stupid hedge. It needs to be done, though:
I start to feel pretty guilty when it begins overtaking the sidewalk in front of our house. I’ve often thought I should just let it go on the yard-side, but I don’t think Jay would appreciate that whenever he mows the lawn.
Ah, well, it’s not going anywhere, I guess. It also doesn’t help that in the house on the other end of our block, live the folks Jay & I refer to as “The Over-Achievers.” Over the winter, their drive & walkways were always shoveled out, their hedge is always perfectly trimmed, their yard is always neat, and their garden is bigger & growing better than ours. We feel like we’re the shaggy, unkempt siblings or something & feel like we should be trying to keep up better. Actually, it’s just me that feels that way. My husband, of the far sunnier disposition than I, realistically points out that we’re doing the best we can with both of us working full-time, and we suspect that at least one of the Over-Achievers is either fully or semi-retired.
I’m cranky again today (big surprise). We didn’t go to bed until at least 10:30 (which, yeah, we’re old, so that’s late for us), and a certain adorable yet perky bambino was yelling for us at 6:15 this morning, and by 7, we finally got tired of him bouncing around the bed & we got up for the day. Boy there’s a long, run-on sentence if I ever saw one. I’m too apathetic right now to go back & correct it. I had a point to all this, believe it or not. The direction I was going was this: Because of said tiredness and crankiness, I started feeling semi-paranoid and depressed. And that leads to me second-guessing myself, and listening to the thoughts of self-doubt that a good night’s sleep allows me to just ignore or blow off. I started feeling like I’m a horrid sister and friend–And to some extent, I am (just ask my sister Kendra). I suck at keeping in contact with people (Just ask my sister Shelley). Whether it’s blogs, or real life, I either get bogged down with things, or I suffer what I call my “Hamlet complex.” I get mired in inconsequential details about things that are insignificant, I get stressed, and I shut down. And then I start thinking about how lame I am & how I never seem have any luck. If there’s a prize out there, I won’t win it. My nemesis will (yes, I have one, and no, I won’t talk about who it is, but if you know me in real life, you can probably guess). I don’t have a shiny high-traffic blog with billions of readers and comments (no, I am not trolling for compliments–I know I have a fair number of silent readers…No one comments because I don’t post pictures daily of my various bowls of oatmeal and the kale chips I have every night with my 3 oz. of local, humanely-treated meat). I don’t get fabulous boxes of free food from food companies. They don’t know I exist.
But then I remembered something Jay said to me back when I was debating on signing up with Foodbuzz, and wasn’t sure if they would accept me as a Featured Publisher. He told me that he knew even if I wasn’t accepted (which I was, but then I broke up with them), I would still be writing. Even if no one ever read a blog post of mine ever again, I’d still be doing this. I’d still be taking pictures, and writing. And he is correct. I’ve kept a journal since I was 8. I think I received my first real film camera around that time as well (back when they still made 126-speed film, no less!). I’ve been writing about my life and what I do, and keeping photographic evidence of it for as long as I can recall. My child(ren)–I still haven’t fully ruled out a baby #2 yet– and grandchildren will likely be surprised at the amount of journals, albums, and computer files they’ll have to sift through and sort when I’m pushing up the daisies.
So then I began feeling better and okay with myself, and I did one of my favorite activities–I went grocery shopping.
Grains/bread. I appreciate the oats I won from McCann’s awhile ago, but it’s supposed to warm this week, and cold cereal just sounded good (plus, it’s super-quick, which is good for me, as I am usually about 15 minutes behind each morning during the work week). The Flat-Outs I think will end up in paninis later in the week, along with some bacon & the above-shown cheddar-jack.
For tonight’s dinner (which I should go start working on as soon as I’m done here), I’m going to use up the rest of my egg roll wrappers, and make some Homemade Pizza Rolls, a la Iowa Girl Eats. Normally I’d get the hot Italian sausage, but the bambino’s tastebuds aren’t quite up to the challenge yet, so mild it is. I also thought I’d give the Gorton’s Fisherman another chance. I usually skip frozen fish (burned out on too many fish sticks as a kid–I still don’t quite care for them), but the Garlic Butter fillets sounded good–I was thinking with some buttery, Parmesan pasta of some sort.
And finally, the pantry stuff. I like my natural style applesauce. The bambino had picked out a natural-style green apple applesauce, and yesterday when I was packing my lunch, I asked if I could have one, since I was out. I don’t care for green apple anything, and while I’m glad he likes the stuff, I will not be eating his applesauce again. It tasted like green apple candy. Blech.
I also bought some toilet paper, but I didn’t think anyone really would care to see a picture of it, even if I think it’d be funny as hell. Oh that pleasant note, I better go wash some dishes & get some of that Italian sausage browning if we want to eat before 7 tonight!