He's Drinking The Salty Tea

Urg.  There is NO WAY I'd put that stuff in my mouth.  I won't even taste it, but Frankie Frugal over there is slurping it up because it'd waste tea bags to toss it.  He said, "it's not bad just... different."  Goofball.  At least there's an article in the new Reader's Digest saying that salt has gotten a bad rap for years, that we need salt to survive, so I guess he isn't signing his death warrant by drinking it.  It has to be like drinking the ocean, though, without the fish cooties of course.  Blech.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "sweet" and at first I planned to put one of my favorite pictures on here (I think I still will) but then I looked out the window at the late-arriving dawn (nearly 7:30!) and saw the sweetest peach color tinting the clouds, so you get that too.  I only had 2 paying customers, 1 old diver looker & wife, and 2 staff in the dive shop yesterday so I got a bit of secret sewing done.  I'm sure dragging my feet gift making this year, I think "my spirit is willing but my flesh is weak," as they say.  It has to be because of the thick blanket of clouds over us.  I really have no pep on cloudy days, and lately I've been very whiny about having to go to work.  Not that I work hard or anything, no.  Any job where you can take your sewing machine, etc. and leave it up in the backroom for days on end is not a hard job.  No, it is not.  It's just that I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it. (there's a surprise)  But there's that paycheck that shows up on Mondays... it pays the grocery bill and for my week at The Clearing and my annual run-away with Lala and for my yarn and fabric and books and and and...  You see why I keep going back, it enables me to do what I want kinda when I want, because Mrs. Boss is very flexible about letting me have days off.  Of course, I don't get paid when I don't work but I'm at an age where I can balance work vs. not working and not go to the poorhouse if I don't work for a day or even a week.  I've learned to salt money away for a "rainy day" thanks to the endless encouragement of my beloved Durwood, and I'm planning to start getting Social Security checks just as soon as I'm eligible because A.) who knows how long the politicians will leave that money alone so it'll be there, 2.) I want to, and besides the economy is trash so a lot of people aren't working which means a lot of people aren't putting SS money in so I'm wondering how long it'll last anyway.  I wish I could figure out how to fix this stuff.  You have any ideas?  Anybody?  I/we plan to use part of my SS to slam into the mortgage to pay it off tout suite and the rest I'll save.  Save!  I know, I can hardly believe that I'm my mother's daughter.  Mom wasn't a saver, no way no how, if she had two bucks, she'd spend three, but I'm learning not to be like that and I want to make sure my children are more like Durwood in the money department (and the considerate department too, I think that's his best thing, well, except for... but that's none of your business so just quit asking), they can be like me in other ways.  Let's see, what ways?  Hmm, well, someone up at The Clearing in September said "you're always so kind" and it nearly made me cry, still does.  Am I kind?  Maybe I am, I always try to see the best about people and things and treat them with respect, I guess that's kind of kind.  And I'm polite.  I make it a point to be polite to everyone.  Every. One.  Especially people who are rude or abrupt or grouchy, it makes them stop and reconsider, plus it makes me secretly giggle that I've made them change their ways at least for a minute.  I'm such a scamp.

December 11--John Singer Sargent, Mountain Stream.  Nancy had it all wrong.  When Aunt Ed and Uncle Jay had told her about the cabin next to the mountain stream she imagined a narrow, shallow, tranquil stretch of water in dappled shade.  This stream was nothing like that.  It roared between boulders, crashing against rocky banks, and leaping down rapids.  It was so wide that there wasn't shade anywhere near the sides even if she could ignore the spray and the constant roar.  She had come here to relax.  This crazy, angry, dangerous water was not relaxing in the least.

I don't know what's going to happen, all I could see and hear was that raging water.  I didn't even get to the naked man easing into it.  Maybe next time.  I'm off to eat granola and yogurt (see? I can change) then go visit Skully for an hour or so.  Oh, and take leaves to Henny & Penny.  I'll probably let Porter out to play for a bit while I'm there too.  Have a day.  Pray for sunshine.

--Barbara