Finding My Bliss: Disappearing Act

Saturday, September 13, 2014

I always struggle a bit on Saturdays. I am the music director at a church, and therefore, must look presentable and be present to play for Mass around 4:30 each and every Saturday. This fact tends to lurk in the back of my mind all day...."you can't really go anywhere, because you need to get back for church." "You shouldn't start any big projects, because you will have to stop in the middle of it and get ready for church." This sort of thing. So, instead, I tend to waste the entire day, thinking about all the things I would do...if I didn't have to go to church.

My husband, on the other hand, has chosen today to take on the garage. Apparently he thinks it would be a good idea to actually park the cars in it this winter. (Last year, I managed to fill it up with furniture. Projects that I was planning to "paint in the fall and sell! We will make a bundle!") That didn't happen....until the day before my first garage sale this summer...and I ended up keeping everything anyway. Speaking of garage sales, that is what he is clearing out right now. What is left of two months worth of garage sales/house decluttering/"I don't know what to do with this so I will throw it in the garage"/etc. Apparently he already made one trip to the dump. (That is his solution. Take it ALL to the dump.) He came into the house and said "Wow! It was only five bucks to get rid of the TV, two DVD players, and that typewriter." Um....excuse me? That WHAT??!!

I realize that typewriters are rather obsolete, but this is the thing I took to college with me. The magic machine I typed ALL my papers on. The machine I may have decided to take with me to a remote location and type my "Great American Novel" on one day!! That is what the people in all the movies do! They create their masterpieces on TYPEWRITERS! And when finished....you stick that last piece of paper in, scroll down, and hear the satisfying click of the keys as you type

THE END.

But now it is lying in a garbage heap at the dump.

He just came in and said "So, should I just toss that green chair that was down in Lexie's room?" Obviously, my reaction over the typewriter was strong enough that he knows now to ASK before throwing. I have said on numerous occasions that I LOVE THIS CHAIR.

There used to be two.

Then I got Bennett.

And he ate it.

He did his best to follow up with the second chair for dessert, but I salvaged what I could.

When Bennett lived here, many things disappeared as well. One morning, I woke up, and reached for my glasses, as I always do. (I am blind as a bat without them). They were no where to be found. There was no question who had them. Whenever he took something he knew he wasn't supposed to have, he would bring it to the back yard. That is where they were, lenses popped out, bow chewed almost through, a sad, sad heap of very expensive plastic. Yes, the backyard would be their final resting spot. The only time he didn't drag something back there, was when he took the stir stick out of my (full) paint can. (Just a day or two before the above pic was taken. He wanted the floors to match the newly painted cupboards!) First, he walked it through the house (the entire house) and then hopped on the couch to sit and chew on it, as he managed to smear the paint from the stick on just about every visible surface. Unfortunately, (for me) fortunately (for him) he had this: