Friday, April 29, 2016
Well, my month and a half hiatus from blogging wasn't intentional. I have been too exhausted by my commute and too overwhelmed by other weekend and weeknight commitments (sleep, laundry, etc.) to pause to reflect in written form. I've seen one friend off to teach in South Korea after we held two consecutive yard sales to liquidate her possessions--one in Greer, SC, two Saturdays ago, and the other at my house this past Saturday. I've driven several thousand miles just going to and from work. I've paid my mother back some of the money I owe her. After thirteen years of carrying the same purse, I bought a replacement that arrived in the mail today. I've planted a garden in my back yard. My brother had a scene from a Nicholas Cage movie filmed in his driveway. My other brother bought his first house, and four sets of my friends also moved or arranged to move from townhouses or apartments into single family houses. I've enjoyed church, and actually gotten to reconnect with some people I used to hang out with when we were all in the young singles class fifteen years ago, before they married and reproduced. I've visited Grandmommy--I slept while Mums chatted and John drove. I had my best non-holiday month at my consignment booth. I've been getting to the gym regularly, though I haven't lost any weight. My house is a disaster inside, but the outside has been freshly painted. My roses have developed a mite-caused mutation called "witches broom" that has turned them hellishly thorny. I now have a banana tree! I learned how to make tissue paper flowers and created the table decorations for a friend's parents' golden wedding anniversary celebration. My garage is slightly less cluttered than it has been, but there's still plenty to be removed. Work has given me the opportunity to learn about an impressive variety of writers, from terminally depressed poets to ancient comedy playwrights to modern lesbian novelists. I continue to make occasional errors as I check that our entries present accurate information about them and their works. Would that I had time to read them and not just skim what critics have had to say about them ... I sympathize both with librarians and with intelligence analysts in my daily labors. The former are tantalized by proximity to great literature they don't have a chance to enjoy, and the latter are expected to rapidly produce position papers based on data from dubiously reliable sources. As much as it would be fascinating (and probably better remunerated) to work as a national security position, I find myself grateful not to have life and death dependent on the accuracy of my work right now, however hard I try to get it right!