It's a bit disappointing to have a good plan for the afternoon and find that Nick and Adrian just want to play at home. We were going to go to the Issaquah Sportsmen's Club to do some shooting. I was looking forward to seeing Adrian shoot a real gun for the first time. His parents gave us permission. I'd gathered the hearing protection, the ammunition, the targets, and the key to the trigger lock. I'd thought that this was a clincher, a sure thing to get us all up and out of the house. I was wrong.
It's hot out and the boys only wanted to come inside where it was still cool to play. They've been downstairs most of the time. That's one of the nice things about having a house on a hill. The lower level may only have windows on three sides, but it's always cool down there in the summer, or in this case the Indian summer. Heat or not, I wanted to go out and do something interesting. We could have biked through the Snoqualmie tunnel and stayed cool. We could have headed out to swim at the Bellevue Aquatics Center where the water is always brisk. We could have gone to Nick's dojo, the Z-Ultimate studio and I could watch little kids sparring. That's always fun. It's so hard to get the boys motivated to do something interesting on a Friday afternoon. They get off early and have almost a half a day to play, but I guess after going to school all week, they just want to hang around. After being home alone all week, I want to get out and do something.
Can you see that I have cabin fever? I would never make it through an Alaskan winter. Now I'm stuck deleting old emails as I look through the window at the beautiful day outside. It's hard to keep looking out the window too, because the neighbor is working on his pumphouse, the one that houses our community well. And he has his shirt off. He's not an ugly man, but for some reason, I'm repulsed by this. When did it become improper for a man to work outside without a shirt? My dad did. One of my grandpas did. The other grandpa always had a distinct line on his arm above which his skin was white and below which it was a deep reddish tan. I don't remember thinking anything about men walking around without a shirt back then. Yet, I've noticed my opinion has shifted over time, not having seen many men shirtless in a long while. Even at the pool, most men and almost all of the boys wear swim shirts. At first, I thought it was self-consciousness, but it's the norm now. Maybe it bothers me to have to see this neighbor outside because I don't like his attitude and I don't want him to look up and see me looking out the window. He might presume that I was looking at him. Ewwwww.
In the view of all this lassitude, the highlight of my day was when I opened a package of liverwurst and the cats came running. Buddy happily ate two chunks of it while Seth begged for some, but disdained to actually eat it. Really? I'm not sure why I relented, but I got out some of Seth's little dry crunchies, Greenies. How can a cat like Greenies more than liverwurst?
On these restless days, I hate the sound of the television, especially the cartoons that the boys are interested in at their age. The animation is weak. The stories are rude. It seems like they work to make the colors and characters as offensive as possible without affecting the rating. I guess I shouldn't complain. I used to watch Popeye.
Oh man, I have got to get out from behind this computer. The neighbor is still strutting about and I don't want to see it. I tend to stare at the green out the window in front of me and my eye keeps getting drawn to the only movement on such a still day. Not even the tops of the Western Red Cedars are swaying. God forbid I'd actually want to pull some blackberry in my own yard. Then I'd have to talk to the man too. If I go into my sewing room to hem Nick's jeans, I'll automatically switch windows. That might work. Might get me on my feet and out of this week-long funk too. If not, I'll go for a bike ride when Mike gets home, with or without the rest of them.
Thank you for listening, jb
It's hot out and the boys only wanted to come inside where it was still cool to play. They've been downstairs most of the time. That's one of the nice things about having a house on a hill. The lower level may only have windows on three sides, but it's always cool down there in the summer, or in this case the Indian summer. Heat or not, I wanted to go out and do something interesting. We could have biked through the Snoqualmie tunnel and stayed cool. We could have headed out to swim at the Bellevue Aquatics Center where the water is always brisk. We could have gone to Nick's dojo, the Z-Ultimate studio and I could watch little kids sparring. That's always fun. It's so hard to get the boys motivated to do something interesting on a Friday afternoon. They get off early and have almost a half a day to play, but I guess after going to school all week, they just want to hang around. After being home alone all week, I want to get out and do something.
Can you see that I have cabin fever? I would never make it through an Alaskan winter. Now I'm stuck deleting old emails as I look through the window at the beautiful day outside. It's hard to keep looking out the window too, because the neighbor is working on his pumphouse, the one that houses our community well. And he has his shirt off. He's not an ugly man, but for some reason, I'm repulsed by this. When did it become improper for a man to work outside without a shirt? My dad did. One of my grandpas did. The other grandpa always had a distinct line on his arm above which his skin was white and below which it was a deep reddish tan. I don't remember thinking anything about men walking around without a shirt back then. Yet, I've noticed my opinion has shifted over time, not having seen many men shirtless in a long while. Even at the pool, most men and almost all of the boys wear swim shirts. At first, I thought it was self-consciousness, but it's the norm now. Maybe it bothers me to have to see this neighbor outside because I don't like his attitude and I don't want him to look up and see me looking out the window. He might presume that I was looking at him. Ewwwww.
In the view of all this lassitude, the highlight of my day was when I opened a package of liverwurst and the cats came running. Buddy happily ate two chunks of it while Seth begged for some, but disdained to actually eat it. Really? I'm not sure why I relented, but I got out some of Seth's little dry crunchies, Greenies. How can a cat like Greenies more than liverwurst?
On these restless days, I hate the sound of the television, especially the cartoons that the boys are interested in at their age. The animation is weak. The stories are rude. It seems like they work to make the colors and characters as offensive as possible without affecting the rating. I guess I shouldn't complain. I used to watch Popeye.
Oh man, I have got to get out from behind this computer. The neighbor is still strutting about and I don't want to see it. I tend to stare at the green out the window in front of me and my eye keeps getting drawn to the only movement on such a still day. Not even the tops of the Western Red Cedars are swaying. God forbid I'd actually want to pull some blackberry in my own yard. Then I'd have to talk to the man too. If I go into my sewing room to hem Nick's jeans, I'll automatically switch windows. That might work. Might get me on my feet and out of this week-long funk too. If not, I'll go for a bike ride when Mike gets home, with or without the rest of them.
Thank you for listening, jb
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