Tag Archives: truth

The Fall of Summer

Posted in Misguided Musings by

The_Shining_Sun_by_edsousa

Summer is coming to a close and I can’t help but feel a little sad.  It seemed so fleeting, so brief a season.  I can’t seem to remember long days or hot evenings. (Probably because they were few and far between)  I hate the thoughts of putting away the outdoor furniture and my pretty colourful cushions that adorn my porch chairs.  My flowers are dying at the front garden and the strawberries have all been picked and eaten.  I’m starting to eye my sweaters and long pants and the search for matching socks has taken on a desperate tone.  The kids in the ‘hood are getting ready for the whole back to school thing and that means at work I’m going to be flat out running around busy with exams and shattered nerves right up until Christmas break.

There are also changes around the house.  The kid will be starting Uni, the two girls are working full-time jobs and Hubby is going back to work.  Will there be any reprieve from the busy-ness of the fall?

I am looking forward to warm fires and homemade bread.  Spice candles and trick-or-treaters.  Colourful leaves and bright frosty mornings.

I’ll miss the easy-ness of summer.  The slow moving work schedule, the comfort of getting home a little earlier and walks around the lake in the warmth.  The barbeques and days we could sit out with a few drinks with friends.  The days I could run in the sun or rain and not worry about catching a death of a cold or slipping on icy asphalt.

I lamented a few days ago about the beach and how I thought becoming an alcoholic beach bum seemed a perfect fit and to some degree, heading to the warmth and sunshine still greatly appeals to me.  But there is something to be said for the change of seasons.  A new beginning, a new endeavor, a shift of consciousness from easy to busy, from warm to cool, from ending a project to looking forward to the start of a new one.  To keep motivated and always looking ahead to the next big adventure or the next little task is what keeps life from getting too mundane.  The change of seasons brings with it another chance at regaining some perspective, or beginning something new or moving around something that just wasn’t working.  Taking stock and reviewing the ending season allows for ample room to implement some new plan or goal for the future.

Take the opportunity to look forward to the changes that lie ahead with another season and set a challenge.

A little step outside the box can make a big difference in one’s perspective.

Pepe Le Pew Is My Spirit Animal

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As far as vacations go, this last one was full of heat, humidity, a dash of crankiness, a little drunkeness with a side of wayward walking AKA falling on my ass.  Again.

Although in saying that, I truly wasn’t drunk when I fell.  Honestly,  I wasn’t.  It probably would have been better had I been as drunk as a skunk.  (By the by, WHO THE HELL THOUGHT UP THAT PHRASE?  How can a skunk be drunk?  I swear that’s how Pepe Le Pew was created.  Some guys were sitting around trying to get a good idea for a new cartoon character and some drunk French Canadian guy was there and they all went  “HEY! WHAT KID WOULDN’T LIKE A HORNY DRUNK FRENCH SKUNK?! LET’S DO THAT!”  And THAT kids, is how all great cartoon characters are created.  The. End. )     At least I would have had a good reason for falling down in the first place instead of the usual I’m-a-klutz-and-have-a-hard-time-balancing-on-actual-feet kinda person.  Ugh.

Vacations around these parts, or SLS, the ‘Hood, ma peeps that live near me…you get the drift, as vacations go we tend to party together, so if one fam decides to vacay it’s inevitable that more will join in.  That was the case this time as well.  One made plans, then another joined in and then it was Bestie’s birthday and how could we not go for that and then another joined in…so really, it was a ‘hood gathering in a hot tropical environment.  Plus alcohol.  Of course, it’s our ‘hood we’re talking about so OF COURSE THERE’S ALCOHOL.   Oh, yeah and the kids were there too.  Hey kids!  Nothing to see here, go back to watching Pepe Le Pew…

After a lovely dinner and A LITTLE WINE, CALM DOWN we went to Bree’s abode for cake…and MAYBE a little more wine.  As we were walking out onto her expansive, yet viewless patio (unless you count the roof top of another building a view, then yes, it had a view.  The LEAST they could have done would to have thrown some nice plants out there,  maybe strung some lights…a few decorative chairs.  COME ON PEOPLE, GIVE BREE SOMETHING TO SEE!)

Anywho, unbeknownst to me the patio was two tiered.  The second level had the smallest of edges but I somehow managed to find it and my wedged sandled foot rolled over it like a car tire over a drunk skunk.  Yes, it was slow and painful.   It was like I was watching a movie in slo-mo only I was the actual person doing the falling.  Twit.   I could feel myself starting to descend, but could do nothing to stop it and hey, did I really want to?  At some point I had the presence of mind to ever-so-gently place my precious iphone on the barren side table just sitting so quaintly to my left…as I was ever-so-slowly  falling on my ass.  When I finally landed, thumping squarely on my bum, I just sat there for a second to digest what just went down.  Me.  I went down.  Bestie turned and yelled if I was hurt, her daughter were desperately trying not to laugh and I was still incredulous that I had done it once again.  I’VE FALLEN AND I CAN’T GET UP.  SHIT.

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As I stupidly sat there on the cement patio contemplating the statistics of me falling at every vacation in the history of ever,  I took in my surroundings.  And waited for the bleeding and pounding headache to start, because let’s face it, that’s usually what happens.   When none of that happened and Bestie was trying to help me up and her daughters were trying desperately to get out of my way frightened I may end up taking them down with me again, I was able to fully assess my injuries.  Or astonishing lack thereof.

I scraped my knee, my elbow and hurt my dwindling pride.  My foot seemed okay at the time and I jumped up to save what shred of dignity I had left, which wasn’t much.

I later limped to my room across the hall.  And awoke to a swollen foot, pain and the inability to walk more than a few feet without sitting down.

Excellent vacation!

It was all a little much.

A week later, my foot has almost healed completely.  The doctor said there is nothing broken, (besides my fragile ego) and I will live to fall another day.

There’s a story from my childhood that, once while we were at the cottage one summer day, I was heard outside calling “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”  When everyone came out to investigate and see the cat I was calling, I was rushed inside and the door was soundly shut.

Apparently, I was calling a pretty little skunk over to play with me.

Wonder if any of his relatives are still staggering around looking for a drinking buddy.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty….

Pepe Le Pew

 

Running Through A Meadow is Overrated

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The Universe can be an asshole.  Here you are happily running along the meadow, gaily skipping through the flowers, birds singing, skies blue with not a cloud to be seen, the sun beaming down upon you with the warmest glow when BAM! the Universe sticks out his foot and you pull off the biggest face plant ever with buttercups and meadow flying in your wake.  There you are, face down in the mud and dirt, your nose bleeding from the epic wallop, laying on the cold earthen floor, your hair left in knots and wayward birds pecking at you bringing twigs and branches to make a nice new nest in there for their offspring.  Your arms ache like shit from trying to break your fall on the way down.   The ultimate insult, the birds crap on your head as you shoo them away.  You never saw it coming.

Thanks, Universe.

YOU SUCK.

That’s how life works.  It’s all a big game and you get knocked down a time or twenty.  It’s not how you get knocked down, although the face plant is painful and embarrassing and epically awful with the nest and crap all over your head, but getting up again is just as hard.  It’s a matter of scraping off that blood and dirt, climbing up to your feet and taking a good look around.  The sun will still shine.  The sky will still be blue.  Those goddamned birds will still be looking for a place to nest and crap, but you can rise above all of that.  You can take a breath and clean yourself up.  The embarrassment will fade.  The blood will be cleaned off (although the nose may be a Marcia Brady nose for a while)

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and you will trudge on once more.  One step at a time at first.  Running gaily may have to wait for you to recover.  But it will happen.  You don’t want to run through a meadow, anyways.  The bugs are awful.  You are allergic to all of that grass and shit.  The birds, seemingly sweet and innocent, will beat you down with their wings and beaks.  They are not nice.  AND THEY INCESSANTLY CRAP ALL OVER THE PLACE.  Seriously.  Avoid the birds.

Instead, take stock, get a breath and beat the Universe at its own game.

You. Are. Better.

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Emergent Truth….It Really Has Nothing to Do With This Post, But I Like the Phrase So I’m Using It, Dammit.

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With the changing seasons, I like to review and take stock in what I’ve accomplished or completely fucked up during the past few months, just so I can kick myself or congratulate myself…depending upon, of course, the previous months’ activities. So far, in my list that I have drawn up in my head, I have both accomplished a few things and totally created an abyss of crap, so really…I can pat myself on the back while simultaneously kicking myself in the ass. Awesome.  

Ugh.

Physically, I’ve done well. Hubby and I have completely overhauled our eating habits and done away with processed foods and added sugar. We still have our days where we eat crap, but they are few and far between. We’ve both lost between 20-25 pounds each and walk around the lake a few times a week now that the weather is cooperating. I’m still going to bootcamp 3 days a week and have added a bit of running a couple of days just to see if my 95 year-old hip can take it. So far, it’s not complaining too much. Most days I can even walk straight! Yay! I’ve noticed I can lift heavier weights, do better push-ups and not fall down into a complete mess when doing a box jump. All improvements. I still can’t do chin-ups, pull-ups, and walk on ice without falling or sliding under cars, but one can’t expect to do it all…right?  


With age, comes tests and more tests to make sure you’re in tip top working condition. I sound like a mechanic looking under the hood of a car, but that’s how it feels. Bloodwork, xrays, ultrasounds, MRI’s, scan this, test that…ugh, it gets exhausting. Some of these ‘tests’ are invasive and overly tactile. I had an ‘internal ultrasound’ yesterday that I was NOT PREPARED FOR. The woman technician was trying to be really nice and understanding, but already admitted that she had not had one done herself , but WAS TOLD IT WASN’T THAT BAD. In response, I very sweetly said ‘oh, okay’ but my head was screaming WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK LADY, I’M NOT HAVING THAT WAND STUCK UP MY HOO-HA SO YOU CAN TAKE PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE OF WHATEVER IT IS YOU NEED PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE FOR! GEEZ, AT LEAST BUY ME DINNER FIRST. HEY, IF I SEE THESE PICS ON FACEBOOK SOMEONE IS GOING TO PAY! That was in my head. The whole time. Not kidding. Then she was pointing out how she saw my ovaries “oh, there’s the right one. It was a bit hard to see. *giggle*” (me: * fuck off* I get a bit sweary WHERE THERE’S A GLOWING WAND INSIDE MY HOO-HA AND SOMEONE IS LAUGHING AT ME) Then, I hear her sweetly saying “okay, now just a bit of pressure” and you know when someone says ‘pressure’ they mean ‘I’m pushing as hard as I can to get a good look at that unmentionable stuff that no one talks about so don’t be such a big baby, will ya?’  

Being a woman is terribly humiliating.  

And getting older can suck.

Then I went back to work and totally felt violated and needed consoling, so I had a wrap and a diet coke…but I HAD TO PAY SO REALLY, IT WAS A SUCKY DATE.  

THANKS TECHNICIAN, LADY. I hope when you have your internal ultrasound, you have someone there to pat your hand and say supportive things like, ‘THERE, THERE. YOU SURVIVED YOU STRONG LOVELY WOMAN” And NOT giggle at the discovery of your elusive right ovary WHICH WAS PROBABLY HIDING FROM THE WEIRD ASS GLOW STICK RANDOMLY WANDERING AROUND IN THERE. AND also you won’t have to listen to shit like, “OH I HEAR IT’S NOT THAT BAD AND HOLD ON, JUST A BIT OF PRESSURE.”  

Ugh.  

 Here is a pic of a cute sloth. You. Are. Welcome.