, , , , , , , ,

Dear Diary – If you want something done, ask a busy woman!

Friday evening was a ladies’ card-making event at the church and I had overcommitted to baking. Why? Because it was an excuse to bake pretty things…that I wouldn’t be responsible to eat on my own! Eldest Son was also coming for the weekend to celebrate Youngest Son’s 17th birthday, so I was responsible for cleaning and making a birthday cake too. I had made every effort to do things ahead, but as always, the time frittered away and Hour 0 was fast approaching!

So what do I do?

I go furniture shopping. (I should mention I also went Christmas shopping at Home Depot before breakfast!)

In my defence, I have patiently waited years to be able to replace our ugly, stained burlap sack couch, which I hated when we purchased it over 21 years ago. It was the only couch that Hubby and I could both: a) afford and b) agree on. It moved in the day we moved into our starter home…which evidently has become our only home! Life is full of disappointments!

I took a friend with me to keep me focused and mostly to help with the measuring tape. I found 2 at a local Leon’s that I wanted to test in person and both could be delivered well before Christmas. I was very excited by this prospect because I’m hosting this year. One was not on the showroom despite what the website said. The other looked cheap and was as hard as a rock. BUT I fould 2 others that I liked. After a great deal of hemming and hawing, I texted Hubby photos and we headed back to the house to measure. Something I should have done before I left the house the second time.

By this point, the lunch hour was fast approaching and my blood sugar was dropping, as well as my resolve to spend so much money without Hubby’s input. It’s not that I need his approval. It’s just that I don’t want to be blamed when it all falls apart! This couch is likely going to live with us for a long, long time, and I need it to be both hardy and able to cup my supple (and spreading) buttocks. The only sighed groan I should hear for the next 20 years should be uttered from my lips, not the couch!

I opted to grab refreshment at Tim’s and get what I needed from the Bulk Barn before returning to Leon’s. I stocked up on over a dozen spices. I bought edible glitter for shortbread cookies. And I successfully by-passed all the bins with chocolate and candy!

After measuring, sitting and discussing with my friend, I chose a couch!

It’s not available until February…at the earliest.

Rather than invoking Buyer’s Regret, I raced home to finish preparing for the crafting event. There will be other sales.

And I needed to lecture speak to my child about an email I got from a teacher.

I glittered my shortbread cookies and packed fancy dishes and the crockpot for mulled cider. I decorated chocolate brownies, only five of which would make it because I forgot the rest at home.

I glazed blueberry scones, three times because it wasn’t thick enough the first two.

And, because I wasn’t busy enough, I made unicorn poop in between piles of dishes and dinner. I literally sat for 5 minutes while I horked down a meatball and some rice before I raced out the door, already late.

My feet were thankful that Main Street in the village was closed because it meant I wasn’t on them. But they were the only part of me. I don’t know my way around the village. I got caught in the closure last year too, and to make it more stressful, the detour I found last year, was also closed, making me even later.

But the event went well, and ran very late. It was after 11 before I got home. Hubby was already in bed, but my boys were up and I was happy to sag into my burlap couch and groan. I think my feet groaned too.

Dear Diary – I saw my rheumatologist this week and he’s taking away my “happy pills” as I call them, a week early. They make me happy because I can be active. I’m not hobbling like a lamb on it’s new legs and I have more energy than when I was in high school. At least before Eldest Son was born and I got no sleep! I knew going in that it would be short-term and it’s still my hope that they will have knocked down the inflammation enough that I won’t have to take something more serious. I ended up suffering with the Death Flu twice with the last one. In the meantime, I’m being careful. I make every trip up and down the stairs count. And I only dance to the really good songs!

Dear Diary – The local train station set up a drive-thru light display in one of its parking lots this week. They did it for Halloween too. It looks pretty cheesy but I know for small children, it will be a place of magic.

It was 1990-something when one house in our small town decorated with lots of lights. Eldest Son was smitten! Every time we went out, particuarly in the evening, he would ask to “go circus”. It wasn’t quite a Clark Griswald special, but considering most folks only did a single string around the porch or a small tree in the yard, it was pretty spectacular. He cried when the “circus left town”.

Dear Diary – We’ve been invited to a Christmas party and I really want to go. But I don’t want to catch Covid and lose Christmas. I already lost Thanksgiving and have yet to taste turkey in 2022. What to do?

Dear Diary – Once upon a time I considered becoming a fashion designer. I also considered becoming a teacher for the blind (inspired by Little House on the Prairie), a firefighter (inspired by my Dad), a model (but I’m too short), an archaeologist (until my Mom told me I’d have to give oral presentations), or a lawyer (inspired by power suits)! I didn’t pursue any of those.

Over the last couple of weeks, I have wrestled and sighed over a denim tote bag for a friend, made with the legs of her outgrown jeans. She outgrew them in a good way and I’m kinda jealous. Yesterday I sewed the final seam and I’m very pleased. Will I do it again? I’m not sure. I was probably wise not to pursue design!

Dear Diary – Yesterday was a miserable day; it was dark, damp, and drizzly. Eldest Son was off work early and invited me to play Destiny. It’s an online adventure game and I suck at it. It’s why he wanted to play together, so he could show me how to find loot and how to level up. But he had a work meeting so our adventuring was cut short.

I continued to play after he left and had just started off on my quest when a ship arrived and I saw one person fighting a horde along. Even though I suck, I thought it would be rude to abandon this person who was quickly being overwhelmed. So I stayed and we fought the horde together.

There are a number of reasons why I play video games; it’s not just to waste time. Gaming is more than just about the game; it’s also about community.

Eldest Son has talked about the awesome sense of community in the Destiny realm and I was delighted to experience it first hand. When I died, someone else resurrected me. When I stood there, looking lost, he (or she) tried to catch my attention, and then led me to a loot box and some other resources. They beckoned me to join them on their quest, and sent an invite to be friends so we could play another time.

It reminds me of a story Eldest Son passed on. I shared it in 2021, but here it is again:

A mom wrote that her 15 year old son has been hanging out with his friends a lot online during the quarantine. One evening, the friend and 5 of his friends were “hanging out” and they invited a solo player to join their “crew”. This gamer was much younger and had been spending a lot of time alone. In fact, it was the eve of his 11th birthday. So they threw him a virtual birthday party. They took him on quests, shared their loot, helped him win battles he couldn’t do on his own, and stayed with him until after midnight so they could sing him “Happy Birthday”. This random pack of guys could imagine the disappointment and heartache of this kid alone on his 11th birthday because of quarantine, and I’m sure this is now a birthday he will never forget!

I frequently play another online team-based (one that just went a huge overhaul and many of us are unhappy, not only with the changes to the game, but the obvious money-grabbing of the gaming company). But the culture there has developed a reputation for being toxic. I’ve seen that with players obsessed with eliminations or earning Play of the Game instead of working as a team on the objective. Or players obviously snubbing other players in favour of their friends or because they’re annoyed about something. I hate begging for healing from a healer standing right beside me, and they ignore me. If you’re not going to heal, don’t play a healer. I’ve had enemy players on other teams make it their mission to wipe me out over and over because they’re mad that I eliminated them. And I’ve heard some pretty foul language and racial slurs on my headset. Which is why I don’t always use them. (Except when I play with Eldest Son because he’s kind).

All this to say that while I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m not “into” the gamescape yet, it was really nice to enter into the spirit of the gaming community and leave with warm fuzzies. I will persevere and who knows? I might just get better.

If Destiny 2 is the next generation of Destiny games…
does that make it Destiny’s Child?