Saturday, November 18, 2006

I was going to go to Reno today but I went to Paris instead

Huh? What's that you say? You went to Paris today!?

Well, no. Not really. One could only dream, eh? But it was a little bit like going to Paris.

But before I tell you all about that, let me just go back another day or two and say I've had a lovely week. Not a very productive week, mind you, but I don't really even care all that much. In part because I've made a decision to stop feeling guilty about every damn thing I do or don't do or should be doing or shouldn't be doing or.. well, you get the idea. I've decided to give myself the rest of the year off from guilt. A vacation of sorts. And so far, let me tell you, it's been a lovely one.

I already told some folks, but just because it was so absofriggin' cool, let me brag about it one more time. We attended William's football awards ceremony on Wednesday evening. All the kids got a certificate. A handful of kids got trophies. William was one of them. It was sooooo cool to see him get this little bit of home town glory.

Like the coaches said, they wish they could give all the kids trophies. It's a team sport. And so on. All true enough. But William summed it up when he pointed out that this was his first "real" trophy. He has a whole shelf full of the things, all purchased by his parents for the end-of-the-season party for Little League or Youth Soccer and so on. But this trophy wasn't bought, it was earned. He worked hard and a combination of that effort and bit of natural talent made him stand out. His coaches chose him for this award and that meant a lot to him. Everyone was shaking his hand and slapping him on the shoulder in congratulations. It was the type of thing that he'll remember even when he's the one getting gray hair and perhaps sitting in the bleachers watching his own child down on some sport field some day. It was a glowing, grinning sort of happiness moment for both him and for his proud parents.

I was supposed to go to Reno with Jeff Friday. He had a doctor's appointment and I had a lot of shopping errands, the kind that have to be done in the big city. When, by Thursday night, I still couldn't find all the receipts and assorted needed papers and objects I needed to accomplish the errands, Jeff decided to go to Reno on his own and I'd stay home and try to get some projects done around the house.

First thing I did was get up and do a bunch of regular daily tasks - laundry, dishes, a bit of straightening up. I had just pulled the vacuum cleaner out when Jeff returned, several hours earlier then I'd expected him, looking quite chipper. He'd gone for his yearly check up with his oncologist, blood work tests in hand, and the doc had said (knock on wood) that he looked healthy, he looked great, he could come back next year if he really felt like he wanted to, but that really there was no need. Jeff wanted to go out to celebrate so we had lunch at the nicest place in town.

I was going to go back home and vacuum after that but on the way home, we picked up the tall, active teenager who we spied walking home from school and aforementioned teenager reminded me that there was nothing left in the house edible to anyone but a tofu freak like me. Except for the no food thing, he was in a great mood as he had a) no homework and b) no school for ten days!

So instead I went to the market. Except, on the way to the market I noticed the little house on Main Street that they'd been remodeling into a business for the last month. I had thought it was a beauty salon, but on closer inspection this afternoon I realized it was in fact a gift shop. So stopped in to see what it was all about.

I walked in the door and my, oh my, oh my - I'd stumbled into France. It was a home, bath, gift shop, all things French! The beautiful colors! The old but classic style! The flowers! The statues! The opulence! The texture! Sooooo purty! Smelled sooooo good!

And some of you will recall that I've been pining for all things French since my five days in Paris this spring. I've stopped talking about it all the time. At least I've tried not to talk about it all the time. It sounds a bit selfish, y'know - "Oh, I'm sooooo missing Paris!" But that hasn't stopped me from missing it. It's just gone underground. And not just Paris, but all places far away or exotic or both. You know the saying "I dream of going to...." Hey, I just thought it was a saying, y'know. I didn't understand it, I thought it was just a way to say one was thinking about a place. I didn't realize that one can literally dream of places. Long for them. Wish for them. And yeah, I know that it's all rather fairy tale like. I'm not really going to go off on world adventures for the rest of my life. I don't even want to, I'm rather a homebody. (Okay, you can all. stop. laughing. Now.) But I do dream of Paris. I go to bed at night and wake up in the morning having traveled the globe. (And speaking of traveling the globe, have you all seen the Where the Hell is Matt video? Probably most of you have, as it's all over the internet. But if the answer is no, then go here, watch, enjoy.)

But don't worry, I didn't lose my head and buy everything in the store. Nope. I remembered the whole "I'm decluttering" mode I'm working on at the moment and I only bought a teensy box or bag or two. All my items lovingly wrapped and boxed and then tissued and gathered into a decorative high end store bag. I felt like I'd had a teensy little vacation without even having to hit the highway or runway.

Oh, what did I buy? A garden weathered looking bust of a young woman. (I'll have to show a pic eventually) A couple of gold rimmed cup and saucers, mix matched and on sale, in pink and burgundy. And two brightly colored nubby kitchen wash clothes. See. I didn't go overboard at all. I might go back later for a pretty painted tin or two, and some lavender soaps. I mean, I need to give the shop my regular business so it will stay in business so I can go in there and wander and smell and pretend I am back in Paris whenever I need a fix. Ahhhhhhh.

I finally did manage to get to the market, after stopping at a couple of other gift shops (hey, they were on the way) and picking up a couple of holiday gifts on sale. I spent a long time at the market, bumping into folks I knew and having long aisle-blocking conversations. One of those small town perks. Still pretending I was somewhere else, where food is thought of in terms of cuisine, I bought all sorts of edible goodies, including some ready to eat soups, a round of French bread, and some brie cheese and a caramel/cranberry/nut spread. Of course William complained it was stupid food. Until he saw his father's tray of food. Then he conceded he might eat it if someone else would fix his plate and bring it to him. Sheesh. And I fixed his plate and brought it to him. Double sheesh.

Tonight was relaxing on the couch - where William declared he was bored. BORED!? He's only been out of school for an evening. What, oh what, will he do with ten more days of freedom!? Jeff and I, however, enjoyed the idea of bored, we in fact embraced it and spent the evening as a pair of couch potatoes watching our favorite television shows, the grand finale being my weekly fix of Doctor Who. And if that wasn't enough excitement, I discovered that not only is Doctor Who Season Two on the Sci-Fi Channel, but Doctor Who Season One will be starting from Episode One on the BBC-America channel starting next week! My new obsession, now twice a week!! I am so jazzed!

Ah look, it's 3:17 am. I've been sort of backwards lately on my day and night, sleep and wake patterns. I mean, more backwards then usual for me. I'm trying to get back to something reasonable, like being in bed by oh.... say..... 1 or 2 am. And it's gonna get a bit tricky this morning in particular as, in theory, roofers are going to show up bright and early this morning to put a new roof on our house. It's not like the guy gave us a time, but I can only assume with the short days this time of year, he'll want to get started soon after daylight. Right? Makes sense, doesn't it? So, I'm guessing the TROMP TROMP TROMP of work boots and the BANG RIP BANG RIP of shingles being ripped off above my head might make it difficult to sleep after their arrival. You think?

Yawwwwn. I'm getting tired just thinking about it. Oh no, wait. I'm probably tired because I haven't gone to bed yet. Well then, I'll be off to my tangle of flannels and quilts.


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