Here I am noticing I haven't written anything on this blog lately. And I realize I don't really have to, however, generally, I'm just not at a loss of words. Ever.
No matter what I do, I seem to morph the tiniest little things into massive stories. Perhaps not the kind to tell your grandchildren about, but nevertheless, stories generally come easy for me.
Anything can instigate a story. It might be the phone ringing constantly or the crunch of gravel as I walk down the dyke. My head is always spinning with a million things that come out of nowhere.
So what's my problem? I guess nothing. Here I have nothing to write and I'm writing about that too...
I think I'm overdue for a good long dyke walk again. Those walks having me dreaming and thinking and spying on backyards (did I say spy? I meant glance as I walk by) and generally, I have lots to say after a dyke walk.
I think the walks force one to think. We're so easily entertained by our beloved electronic devices that we don't take the time to think from our own selves. It's just way too entertaining reading about or watching others via TV. Thinking is good and ought to be practiced more often.
I also like thinking when I'm working on a project that takes a good long while and it's something I can basically do in my sleep. Staining woodwork components for my staircase was a pretty good example of that one. A whole lotta thinking outside that smelly room was being done right about then. Gardening is a good quiet place to escape within your own thoughts too. But the ground is still too frozen, so strike that one for now.
And apparently I think alot. Out loud even. Cody commonly comments, "Mom, you're talking to yourself again. You said.. giweroiq[oqw[poeoieruui". (I just did a spell check on this one.. it wants me to change this gobbledeegook to 'gerik.' My version is much better) I generally snicker and agree. I verbally play back some stuff I've gone through. No idea why as it's gone and all. But I do it and I get caught alot. While shopping in public too. A few eyebrows have raised my way as I mutter nothings to myself. When caught, I coach myself that I'm not all THAT weird. Just a little, er, eccentric perhaps?
I'm not that nerdy, so I wasn't even sure what eccentric truely meant so I wikepedia'd it.
Eccentric (mechanism), a wheel that rotates on an axle that is displaced from the focus of the circle described by the wheel.
Yup. Sounds like me to a T.
Anyway, I'm glad I could share this insightful post. I have no idea how it can be of help, but if you can find one teeny little thing that clicked for you, I salute you. Big.
What did I get out of this? I think it's that the wheel doesn't fall far from the axle. Unless you're stuck with a bad Costco buggy of course.