Some whine with that?

Weekend plans:
1. Dinner with sister
2. Play with grandchildren
3. Make gooey treats
4. Watch this week's Netlix selection, Benjamin Button
5. Relax

Actual weekend:
1. Dinner canceled
2. Grandchildren canceled
3. Lady backed into my car in market parking lot and left a big dent (her SUV was, of course, undamaged)
4. DVD player broke
6. got TWO email memos from boss asking me to revisit reports that he is not happy with

So it hasn't been my best day ever. But St. Joseph is still comfortably resting, upside down and facing the street, happy as a pig in . . . well, apparently happy enough that he isn't working too hard this weekend to sell my house!

Time to have a gin and tonic and break into a chorus of 'the sun will come out tomorrow,' since today has not been a spot of cosmic brightness! (good thing I'm not a complainer, sort of) Except for nothing going exactly right, it was a really beautiful day!

Sealing the Deal?

After being reminded in a friend's blog about the tradition of burying St. Joseph (upside down and facing the street) when one is trying to sell a home, I finally - over a year into my real estate attempt - bought a St. Joe statute and planted him. The next day, a rather sincere and even excessive offering had been deposited right on top of the burial spot by some local animal, perhaps a cat that was impressed by the newly softened earth. (I buried St. Joseph by my beautiful pink Peony plant, but the animal offering was not Peeony inspired.)

(Photo withheld for your viewing comfort.)

I am not sure what kind of omen this is, but am hoping that the good saint is now grateful to me for his upside down posture (think about it, Joe, it could have been worse!) and will act quickly on my behalf.

Feeling Human

It is never really summer until my toes come out of hiding. It amazes me sometimes, how little it takes to make me happy. A bottle of nail polish is a good start!

My Happy Place

Tick tock

I know someone who has had a lot of bad things happen, beaten up, raped, abandoned, homeless. But she lived through it and, although she is sometimes a little inflexible and holds herself back from many things, I think, for the most part, and from what I can see, that she is strong and compassionate.

I know someone else who has had a lot of bad things happen, beaten up, raped, abandoned, homeless. She was broken into a zillion pieces and, like humpty dumpty, was never put back together again. She is compassionate for the most part, but she is unbearably fragile.

What I know is that it is a very hard life for many people, and that some of them come through crisis better than others. What I don't know is, what makes the difference?

Note to self

A friend and coworker told me that she'd rather not hear about the family stuff I've been dealing with, because it makes her feel helpless and she knows there isn't anything she can do. I was amused by her comment because, really, if there were something to be done, I would simply do it rather than indulge myself in talking about it. I hope I will always remember that it is when I feel most helpless in the face of someone's problems, that I do the most good by listening.