Wow a whole other level to mental distress…Saturday Fairway is no Friday night I’ve never seen so many young dads with their charges in tow emasculated by their wives. The streets of Red Hook and surrounding Cobble Hill empty except for the bicyclists by the handful (if only more of them would wear helmets…a child seat but no helmet, go figure). The sun’s bright and hot, nearly 4pm—as if we were still in Greece.
Sure enough I bought food for an army (I know about emotional eating but what about emotional grocery shopping?), hopefully I can keep to cooking dinner with leftovers for lunch. Thursday is the only night with set plans (Tim McGraw in concert at the PNC Arts Center, let’s pray for no rain).
I treated myself to a potato knish remembering Anna’s desire to eat one, a must-have from the “what I miss from the States” list
What is the right way, the correct way to accost change, and make it our own…what is the best way to embrace the interim in between change and now? Is it better to lose oneself in solitude contemplation or embrace the every day existence with resigned acceptance? Its Sunday the day of rest and I feel pushed and pulled by the very core of every thing around me to move fast and sit still… I am dressed, pensive; annoyed at the prospect of changing cars because neighbors (with ample space) are hording parking spots; pondering next steps of where and what to do…
Today’s to do list: paint the chalkboard, load the dishwasher, launder sheets & towels (blasted Greek towel blue fuzz everywhere!), clean the kitchen, groceries at Fairway, purchase a stove at Lowe’s (delivery on a Saturday), writing time, then dinner with dad (maybe at The Farm on Adderley?)
A colleague of mine, was featured on Sunday Today this morning (thanks Kristin!) promoting his participation in the FreeCycle program…so fortuitous—I hope to post a whole bunch of stuff tomorrow (glass blocks, velvet yardage, leather too) and clean house. Maybe that will help clear the mind and soul a bit.
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