Good Morning! I have had a lot of thoughts swimming around my mind lately. They aren’t thoughts that are coherent enough for their own post, so I thought I would just jot them down here. Because why not?
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about social media and the need for people to speak their minds at all times. It seems that I have the personality that makes it easy for people to give me their unwanted advice. It really bothers me because it implies that I do not know what I am doing or that what I am doing is wrong. Neither of which I believe to be true. The problem I have with social media advice is that people give advice based on their own life experiences and situation in life without considering the situation of the person to whom they are giving the advice. For example, my favorites are people who have lived in the same town their entire lives, established large community connections, and have raised children in one house telling me how to raise my children who have moved more than once to a community where they know no one. I ask myself if I invite the advice, and maybe I do. Regardless, it bothers me. I have close friends whose advice I cherish. Everyone else needs to leave me alone.
I came across the book, “Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?”, in the library yesterday. I sat in the library and read almost the entire book. It is a memoir of a woman who lost both of her parents. It struck a chord with me. How healing it must have been for her to get her raw emotions down on paper. Why can’t I do something like that? Would it make me feel better to get my emotions down on paper? I believe that, yes, it would. So I have begun my own memoir. I started with the first time my mom ended up in the hospital before we knew she had cancer, and I will go from there. No one will probably ever read it, but I am going to write everything anyway. Sometimes I think that people don’t want to talk about death because they want to pretend that they are somehow going to avoid it. I find that people don’t want to talk about my mom because they are afraid it will upset me, or maybe they think it has almost been a year and it is time to move on. I don’t know. What I do know is that I am not done feeling it yet.
Actually, this was all made aware to me on my way to the library. As I was driving to the library I came to an intersection where there was a kitten lying in the road. He was obviously struggling. I drove by him and it was obvious that he had just been hit by a car. I pulled the car over and got out. The woman who lives across the street from the intersection came out to meet me. She told me that the car before mine had hit the poor thing. She didn’t know what to do. We walked over to the kitten which was dying. My heart broke. We stood there and talked like idiots to the poor thing as it struggled to die. Because dying is hard, people. There was nothing we could do. Half of its face was on the pavement. I suppose that I could have done something to put it out of its misery, but I couldn’t. Neither could she. Instead, my heart broke and it died on its own. The rest of the day I was a mess. I guess I am still a little, or this Random Monday post wouldn’t be so depressing.
I should write about something less depressing. Let me see. I set up a bird feeder off my back patio. I love it. So does my cat, Toby. We put a chair in front of the door so that he can look out the window and “talk” to the birds. He is one of those cats that make the chattering noise. It cracks us up. We call the feeder, “Toby TV”. It entertains him and us. We have all kinds of birds showing up at the feeder. Mostly they are cardinals. I love the cardinals, bright and red. I am keeping a journal of the birds that visit for my own scientific curiousity. It makes my husband laugh, but I don’t care. We have also had Mourning Doves which are content to eat the seeds that the cardinals kick off the feeder and that fall to the ground. Chipping Sparrows are another frequent visitor. The Tufted Titmouse visited yesterday for the first time. I like him a lot. He spends a lot of time tapping on the arm of the feeder. I can’t tell if he is breaking open the seeds or just making a racket. If I get too close to the window, he flies away. The only downside to the feeder is the mess. They birds sure do make a mess pooping all over the place and leaving their seed droppings. Oh well, it is worth it.
I told you that I had stuff swirling in my brain. It feels good to get it all down. I should do it more often.