The long and winding funk...
Where have I been? No where in particular. I have of late been bogged down in a peculiar funk of no particular cause. In many ways my life has been humming along more smoothly than ever. My hip is good, the knee pain from that moronic fall in church has finally abated, finances are under control, the kids are reasonably happy, I have my driver's license back and even have a new car. (A '94 Jeep Cherokee - that's new enough for me.) So what's the problem? Just a slump, I guess. The doctor says I'm in super good shape (for me) There is the matter of the colonoscopy I need - precipitated not just by my advancing age and my father's death from colon cancer - but by my younger sister's very real malignant polyp and intestinal resection. (Her surgery went well, no chemo or radiation needed. Two weeks later she had the gall bladder attack of a lifetime and was back in surgery. Two weeks after that she packed up her family and and drove through South Dakota to see the Black Hills, Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore and the Corn Palace. And in a planned reinactment of a famous Smith family vacation, they went into Wyoming, visited Devil's Tower and did an abrupt 180 turn and drove home. She's feeling great. She's the one who has been through the wringer, but I'm the one dragging around like Droopy Dog) Karen wants me to come up and visit (not before I get a colonoscopy...of course) and I was toying with the idea of finding a cheap plane ticket. Now with the banned liquids business and other airport angst, a bus or train trip doesn't seem quite as dreadful as before...

So things are going well, but I'm dragging. I was blaming it on the hot, humid weather, but that has improved and I still am unmotivated. For example, I looked through the mail the other day. I received the July/August Touchstone, some interesting homescooling materials and even the the Entertainment Weekly with Samuel L. Jackson on the cover. Guess which I chose.... That's right, I couldn't even work up the energy to read about Snakes on a Plane, let along Learning from Karl Barth.

My mind wanders...even at work. I triple checked the wedding schedule last week because I was sure I needed to arrange special altar servers for something. Well, that something, the holy day two days from now, hit me between the eyes while at Mass at 7:30 this morning. Eddie didn't notice me turn white, break a sweat and grip the pew in front of me as though about to be slain in the Spirit, thank heavens. But I had to start working on the arrangements for the servers for noon and 7:00 pm this morning. Summer is not a good time to try to find extra altar servers. The children around here are always overbooked in advance - even dropping the hint that it is a holy day and they should be at church anyway doesn't always cut it. Getting anyone to answer a phone this time of year is a small miracle.

I even allowed myself to do a little recreational shopping at the scrapbooking store and TJ Maxx, while Rick and the boys were out getting a new bike for Eddie. Yes, I know the answer to my problems will not be found in recreational shopping but I thought getting out of the house would help. I found the flat sheet I wanted, so that I can recover my bolsters to match my new paisley pink and sherbet orange sheets. I realized the reason I am so crazy about the sheets. The first morning that I woke up on them I had a flashback to a dress in the same material - with matching head scarf - that I was wearing when I took thrid place in the school spelling bee in fifth grade. Even the trauma of the experience hasn't soured my love for outrageous fabrics. The kids tease me because I like to invest in multiples of clothing that I like. Thinking about that paisley dress reminds me that I was the same as a kid. My mother made for me - at my request - about fifteen outfits with that A-line dress pattern with the matching head scarves...

But...I will leave the flat sheet in the package until I finish some things I have to do. I know myself well enough that a deep desire to recover bolsters and make throw pillows is a delay tactic when there are more pressing matters. I am doing a little writing project that is 99 and 44/100ths percent done. I am so overwhelmed at the thought of the 56/100ths percent that the bolsters are crying out to me. But I must resist.

Just writing this has helped. To any of you who have read this far, I thank you. I feel better already. Maybe it was just a bad case of inertia and caffeine deprivation. Who knows. But I think I am on the way back!