I wish I had a reason. It’s not that I haven’t had things to write about, in fact, I feel like I’ve had SO much stuff to write about that I get overwhelmed and end up not doing anything.
The husband and I decided to repaint the downstairs to make it feel more homey. For the past 6 months, it’s felt like we’ve been staying at someone else’s house and we got tired of it. It was a huge production to pick out colors, mostly because I have a terrible time making even the simplest of decisions lately. We finally decided on a brighter green for the kitchen, a bluish-purple for the dining room (it was baby blue before), and “milk chocolate” for the living room, mostly because it sounded delicious. We couldn’t agree on a color for the family room and we both kept wandering back towards the red section. I picked a paint chip, showed it to the husband, and he immediately said yes. The name is “cherry cobbler” and it is the exact same color we had in the living room in our apartment.
You would think that since we had previously painted with red and knew what a huge pain in the butt it was, that we would do it correctly this time. You know, with primer. Apparently we think we’re big shots who are above using something silly like primer, so we just got the paint-and-primer combination. After painting one wall and seeing how horrendous it looked (streaks, tan bleeding through, dark patches, a general mess) I called Home Depot and asked for help. Then we ran over there with about 10 minutes to spare before the store closed and I begged the very grumpy man to help us fix it. He told us we needed a separate primer so he mixed that up for us and gave us a gallon of just paint as well. We went home and primed the unpainted walls a lovely shade of pink, looked at each other, and decided to just put the primer over what we had already painted. It worked! Who would have thought that stuff actually served a purpose, other than to scam me out of $20? It took 5 days and 3 more coats of red, but now it’s done and I love it. It feels comfy and familiar and fun.
In other news, I’ve been doing horribly at Weight Watchers. I haven’t seriously tracked in weeks, I’ve been drinking way too much wine and eating entirely too much cake, but I’m walking about 2 miles everyday which seems to be keeping me losing, even if it’s only ounces per week. I wasn’t able to weigh in last week because the tv and everything was unplugged for painting, so I weighed in today for the first time in two weeks and am down only .2 pounds. I’ll take it. I’ve hit the 10% mark and have 13 pounds left to lose. I’d love to lose another 5 before we go on vacation in 2.5 weeks, but I just don’t know if that’s realistic even if I step it up and follow the program to the letter.
Last night we were at my dad’s to walk and I ended up looking through a bunch of my mom’s papers and things she had collected over the years. She used to go out and buy magazines and newspapers whenever anything major happened in the news, so there was a whole plastic tub full of them. I found the original newspapers from when JFK was assassinated (she was obsessed with him), from the first moon launch, the OJ verdict, Princess Diana’s death, the Clinton impeachment, etc.
There was another bin full of stuff she had printed out from the computer. Thinking it was mostly garbage, I sorted through it quickly. Then I found a bunch of photo album pages full of pictures from the late 1960s and early 1970s – she would have been in her early 20s. They were pictures my dad and I had never seen before, mostly of her with old boyfriends on various road trips! I’ll have to scan some of them so that I have a copy. I can’t get over how beautiful she was when she was young.
The last thing I found was a package… One of those soft-sided envelopes. It was open on the side, so I reached in and pulled out these two books:
I couldn’t help but laugh. How ironic. I turned the package over to see if there was a date on it somewhere, but there’s not. The shipping label shows that they were shipped to that house, which means she would have ordered them sometime after 1999 when we moved in. I doubt she bought them for herself because my nana died in 1991. I just checked the copyright dates and they were both published in 2003. I can’t help but think that she ordered them at some point (whether it was before she was diagnosed or after, I don’t know) for me. She knew that after she died, I would probably be the one to be sorting through all this stuff and she knew I would find them. She was huge into self-help books, and of course they are published by the Catholic press, which is so typically her. I like to think that she planned a little in advance to help me deal with losing her.