Hey check it out, I’m up, dressed (that alone is a miracle because I can do a lot of things in my jamies, except go to the store, even out door chores
’cause I have a rain suit sitting right over my boots, fireman style)
Dirt took the girls with him today to the areoplane fest, so I was greeted with a blast site in my kitchen, dining room and living room. (We didn’t have a living room when I was growing up, instead we called the room with the couch and easy chairs the front room.) The mess was caused by the fact that while we were at our friends house last night their children were here. The girls are like me, when you have company who wants to clean, you can do that when you have been abandoned to yourself.
But in a matter of minutes, minutes I tell you, I consolidated the entire mess into the sink and dirty dish counter,
And the garbage.
And so is this counter, (isn’t the towel ucky looking, but this is my seed sprouting station and the seeds drip brown water. I’ll change it today when I start a new batch of sprouts.)
And this counter is clean, trust me they had every counter completely trashed. Ahhh and you can see I have even pressed my morning coffee and a cup or two is already missing. That’s because I had a cup while making my bed, and tidying up and the second cup is
for my banana cream pie breakfast. Dear Reader are you really going to force my hand at rationalization… What do you have for breakfast? A couple of eggs, some sort of grain product, maybe with a little butter on it, a glass of milk and some fruit? What do you suppose is in my banana cream pie? So there you go, a fine breakfast food and because it is homemade, from scratch mind you, there are no hideous chemical stabilizers to destabilize my brain and stabilize the chub on my middle parts.
While I dined in relative solitude, the ratters are here with me today, I took time to go through the seed drawer for today’s gardening endeavors, 
and to sit with a book that I need to consult for my menu plan, thanks to the reverse psychology of LindaSue, (I secretly think Dirt contacted her to phony up that whole thing about menu and budget so that I would open my big encouragement mouth and then feel the shame of pinballness myself).
Oh and I’ll take a few minutes this morning before I head out to weed and prune, and read a little smack down from the ultimate in smack downers. A.W. Tozer. Ow ow ow, is all I gotta say.
After reading Tozer and dealing with me wee personal life, I definitely need to make sure I am feeding my brain an anti depression diet. You know, if family members and near family members would quite making it a habit of dying in the fall and winter and if other people who’s souls I care for deeply would quit being burdened in the fall and winter, maybe, just maybe, I could have an early spring that isn’t spent pulling myself out of depression.
But what the heck, you know it is George Washington’s birthday today. Man he is old. I was reading up on him last night and how he escaped death constantly, bullet holes in his jacket, hat shot off his head, two horses shot out from under him, and that was just one day. Not just on the battlefield did he defy death, he also had many bouts of sickness, any one of which was known to be deadly. Clearly one might say that he was destined to be our first leader.
There were many very interesting bits of information that I read last night and hopefully later today I will find a little book that he wrote on civility to share with you Dear Reader, but of interesting note to me last night in my middle of the night research, was something I did not know. George Washington suffered depression. Thomas Jefferson essentially called him Gloomy Gus, his exact words: “in all aspects of his life, [Washington] was inclined to gloomy apprehensions.” I knew that he was often thought of as a little sour but the historians that I have read in the past chalked it up to his ill fitting teeth.
Ran across a book of psychiatry last night that actually questions our use of antidepressant medicines, some of the writer’s thinking was based on all the hugely important thinkers and leaders who suffered depression before the advent of brain chemistry altering drugs. Which on the average I agree with, I don’t think we should all be so extremely “normal” but when you start staring at sharp objects and large trucks I think it is time to maybe change up the old brain chemistry a little so that you can think about things that are important. After all, God gave us food and drink to help us over come our ailments so we can get on with things.
Ahh, what the hay would I do with my time other wise? Gotta stay occupied with something eh? Why not occupy myself with the intricacies of brain chemistry? (I ate the pie, and drank my coffee before I started reading. I’m not dumb enough to think that I won’t succumb to guilt, duhuh!) The brain chemistry reading is for a menu to start on Wednesday, I’m an ol‘ Catholic girl and the Church calendar says that the season of self-denial doesn’t start ’till Wednesday. So until then it is Random Rhonda, Sugar Sally, and Budgetless Bambi all rolled into one Lazy Lanny at your service, what can I rationalize for you Dear Reader? Better think of something quick because fun and frivolity come to a screeching halt on Ash Wednesday!
Things have thawed out and the sun is still shining, (liar liar pants on fire little mister weatherman) so I can go grab myself some vitamin D and mood boosting sunlight, and so that Dirt will be happier with me when he gets home, the dear man worries about my brain chemistry more than I do, so I oughta honor that eh?
And I am sure Dear Reader, that you have had enough of my run on sentence structure (is that structure if it is run on?) and liberal sprinkling of commas, so you are off the hook for a while. But I will be back, with some wit not wisdom, as usual, later today. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug (for my girl readers) and a “get out there and absorb the weather God gave you today!”
