I'm a bit lethargic today, but I'm sated and happy, so I can deal with the lazy part of my soul. I'm happy because I've heard a few wonderful stories from friends today that I can't share, but let's just say the world seems like a better place because of these things.
With Hurricane Sandy ripping into the East Coast, it's good that there's something to be happy about because that tragedy is enough to have to deal with. I was watching the constant coverage of the weather conditions with the crane on the top of a New York City building waving in the wind, a news camera and crew getting hit by a sneaker wave, the Jersey Shore getting hammered and now parts of the famous Boardwalk being swept out to sea, and thinking of how really fragile it all is. Some days it's easier to take the "news of the world" than others. Usually because of some personal thing going on. I mean if we all just looked at the bad stuff going on around us, we'd never get out of bed.
I have been accused by a fair-weather "friend" of going through life with rose-colored glasses on, and for the most part, it tends to be true. She said it to wound me at the time, but I took it as something to be proud of.
Growing up, we didn't have a lot, but as it turns out, other family members thought we did because we always were pretty happy to just be together. We had the essentials, and my Dad worked his ass off to make sure we were paying the bills and had a home and food, but he also understood the power of fun. Even if we didn't have a lot of money (he was a builder, and the nature of the beast was pretty much like it is now...there's great times and horrible times) he made sure there was fun to be had. Fishing was always a good time with my Dad, and he snuck off to fish at every opportunity. Little did I know that there were times he did that because he had to bring home something for dinner. To me, it was just fun. I loved going to work with him too. He would invent things for me to do, and I would spend all day thinking I was helping out. One time at about age six, he told me I could paint the garage door on a house he was working on. He put out several cans of paint, wrapped my hair up in a bandana, gave me a brush and let me create. I can still remember how fun that was. After I was through, he had to go over my creation with one color, but he never said a word about it to me. Mom said that he had the best time watching me ponder what color to use next. I guess that's why I still love to paint...rooms and works of "art." Ah, that's another reason I feel good today. I spent the weekend with brushes, canvas, music, and conversations that went on until 3am. Nothing better for the soul. Believe me, I'm no great artist, but it's something I enjoy. It's FUN!
One time Dad found an old book that had been tossed in the trash called "Billy Whiskers" and brought it home. The book was so beat up that he had to tape it together so he could read it to me. Coming home he announced "Babe, look what I found!" like it was a big deal! It made me look forward to Dad coming home every night after that so he could read me the adventures of that darned goat. Something from the trash made me incredibly happy because that's just how he made the world look to me. This was a man who had been through The Great Depression, the Oklahoma dust bowl, and World War II and was so positive about life. I'm forever thankful that he and my Mom adopted me.
So, Happy Monday! Yeah, the world is doing it's usual thing, and we can find out how horrible it is on the internet, or TV, or paper, but right now, at this moment, it's a Happy Monday.
When I saw the cover, I knew instantly what it was. I have a "Billy Wiskers at the Circus" book. Love your rose colored views! Hope your Monday was great.
Today was my dads birthday and your blog today that shared some history/memories with your dad was fitting...My dad was an ice man...when I was young he would sometimes come home and pick me up to go defrost those ice vending machines that used to be found at gas stations etc....Those were the days....peace.