Happy Anniversary, world. My first post was November 19, 2004 ... my last post was November 18, 2014. I've been blogging for ten years. We should throw some kind of cyber party ... crepe paper and balloons and confetti.
It is true ... happiness writes white.
I think about posting almost every day ... but I'm usually beyond tired at the end of each day. Sure, there's the simple, everyday tasks like working and doing laundry ... but add to that packing and cleaning ... transferring things carload by carload ... working with repairmen and movers. Most nights I crawl into bed and Stoney says, "You should write a blog post!" and I say (with all sincerity), "I really should!" But after a hot shower, I'm already mentally shutting down.
This isn't to complain, mind you. What I do is a just a small piece of the proverbial pie.
If it weren't for Stoney, I'm not sure what kind of Thanksgiving we would have had. I probably would've bought two pounds of deli turkey, a loaf of that amazing, crusty bread from Hy-Vee, a half dozen Hostess apple pies ... and told people to make themselves a sandwich because I was going to take a nap.
Stoney was on vacation and spent the week prepping the house and the turkey. Our Thanksgiving was amazing ... so full of family and friends and the most delicious food ... and you can pretty much put that accomplishment on his shoulders. That clean fish tank? That's him. The groceries in the fridge? That's him. Aside from dusting and running the vacuum cleaner? That was all him.
And as if that accomplishment wasn't enough ... he keeps me sane.
I spent this weekend working like a rented mule ... moving things from my house to my mom's apartment on both Saturday and Sunday. I also met with our good friend on Saturday morning and helped her pick up a few things from my house. By Sunday evening, I'd completely passed being tired and moved into some kind of agitated fugue. I didn't even eat dinner. I couldn't ... I was wound far too tight. While Stoney had fajitas, I sat there ... alternating between ranting like a Tourette's patient and banging my head silently on the table.
And so, after he ate, he said, "Come with me." We laid down on the bed and he stroked my hair and kissed my forehead ... and we just relaxed. For the first time in days ... we relaxed. I stopped ranting ... finally ... and just let go ...
And so if I haven't told him enough ...
Thank you for making it a wonderful Thanksgiving ... thank you for moving my china hutch and my table ... thank you for waiting on me to put up the Christmas tree ... thank you for listening to me this weekend ... thank you for everything.
But the words just sound like mistakes
I try to find a set of chords
But you know how long that takes me
I don't trust my fingers
I don't trust my tongue
The work is too important
And we're no longer young, after all.
When I consider what you put up with
I'm amazed you still have skin
When I consider what you mean to me, It's everything.
Harvey Danger - Happiness Writes White
PS - I have a lot of things to catch up on, having been away for two weeks. Idiot's anonymous is out of the hospital and slowly, but surely, healing. My piano is relocated ... along with my china hutch and my oak table. All the electronics are out of the house. So much has been accomplished and yet so much more to do ... in any case, as Arnold said so many years ago ... I'll be back.