Day 013 "Lady Bugged"
Running around all day.
Literally, all day. I ran a 24 hour marathon today. Still going. 45 minutes left but I figured I'd start writing my blog now as it has to be done on the phone and the terrain I'm on is pretty safe so my full attention is no longer required.
Wait, Jeannette just told me ( as she annoyingly edits while reading this over my shoulder ) that we only spent four hours out today. And not the 24 that my mind and body have interpreted it as.
She's now further mocking how much better she is at doing errands than me, especially when it comes to time spent in a grocery store. She could spend a summer in one while I walk around with a pained scowl on my face, painfully aware with each passing moment that the entire cosmos is speeding to its inevitable cold death as I stand there comparing the prices of two cans of refried beans. Boring!!
And so she's right, on both counts.
I'm balls in a grocery store and our day wasn't that long. In fact, it was really quite nice. I just woke up with a dull headache and never quite recovered.
We dropped off the car at around noon ( Jeannette: "It was 1:30 ) and my mom swung by to pick us up. We're just going carless and digging in at the old ranch for the next couple of days to just chill out and relax until it's time to go to Ottawa.
And so we all drove around and ran a bunch of errands. I suppose I could make some of them interesting by greatly embellishing the details, but I don't know if I have it in me.
Thumbs. Typing. Getting.. Tired...
Jeannette wants me to mention the bucket of mussels we had for lunch. Okay. Sure. We did have that. And they were great. My mom had never had them before. Imagine that, lived her whole life in Nova Scotia and had never tasted mussels. Lunacy! She seemed to like them well enough. But then, knowing my mother she would be deathly allergic to them and have eaten them anyway just to be polite.
She did that at a Denny's in the US once. Dad: "That steak looks pretty rare." Mom: "I'm sure it's fine." As it sits on its original styrofoam tray with the plastic wrap only partially ripped open.
Wow, I would have continued that little anecdote but a lady bug just dropped onto my chest as I'm laying here writing this, in bed.
Jeannette just reached over and turned her light off 30 seconds ago and said, "Make sure that lady bug doesn't fly on you to get at the light from your phone."
Her last words. Before turning over.
And then it happened.
Honestly, we're overrun with these little bastards. Anything else and I would know very well Jeannette would have packed our bags up and been out of this money put long ago.
But she likes lady bugs. So they just stay in our room, like pets. And one of them was just on my chest; as if taking a command from her.
I bet she trains them while I'm off writing. What else is she doing out here in Canning while I'm tucked away in front of the fire with my computer? I bet that's it. Trains lady bugs. They're probably watching me closely when I'm home alone and then report back to her.
Secrets are no longer possible!! How long till they can read!?!? Oh dear God someone call someone!!
Sorry, I freaked out there a little. Maybe too much writing for one day. I actually didn't do all that much come to think of it. Maybe a bit more than the minimum. 7 or 8 pages. Not sure. No where near what I want to churn out when we get into a routine, but not insignificant.
The pages are starting to pile up. And the scenes. The most challenging part is to focus the mind on the scene at hand. Gotta just keep swinging the hammer before the house can take shape at all.
So that's what I'll focus on and it'll eventually be done. The formula is pretty simple. And as I work and write I find I have very little anxiety anymore. I don't regret work I didn't do at any point in the past and don't have to look too far in the future as I'm pretty focused on just getting the work done now. Today.
It's a simple formula.
I actually have taken to writing in front of the fire, as mentioned. It's a nice reminder that something is being destroyed, sacrificed, used up; namely, wood - a tree that once sat in some forest somewhere - so that I can sit and create this story.
Hey I'll take guilt motivation anywhere I can get it. Even if it's guilt based!
Actually that's the beauty of creating something original and working pretty hard at it. You don't feel that you're 'wasting' any time. You consume and you create.
I'm starting to be more mindful in the same way with food as well. Not in any outward way. I'm not going to have you all giving thanks to the bovine spirits if you ever come over for pancakes and sausages. I merely take notice of it more when I sit down to eat. Esoecially if I've been writing. It just makes me somewhat more sensitive to the underlying processes of all this. A nice reminder of what it is to be alive. Consumption and creation.
Like the lady bug that just flew onto my chest. He too had to be sacrificed in order for me to complete this entry as he was freaking me out. I just hope he wasn't an important cog in the surveillance wheel of tiny insect drones Jeannette has set up in the house.
All right that's it. My thumbs are Donzo. Also, I fear that if I continue the light will draw more of them to me.
Also, in a couple more days Ill have Internet!! It'll be like Christmas in 1987!
"No species on Earth has a greater issue with gender than the lady bug. For the males of its population are forever in doubt of their own masculinity." -mp