A year is 12 months. 364 days make up a year but months aren’t even because we have 30 in some 31 in the others and even 28 or 29 in one of them. The 28 or 29 one is the longest month of the year.
I’m happy to say my time is my own. I have no constraints. I live with my son and if I want to clean house I do and if I don’t, believe me, he doesn’t notice or care. He’s even told me I clean too much. My mother came down from on high and screamed like a banshee. I do not clean hardly at all. Mom would look at my house and give me that “look” guaranteed to make me squirm. Whatever, she can’t visit anymore being as she’s passed on, so I don’t have to run around cleaning like a crazy person because she’s going to hit the door.
I work, but it’s work I do for me. I work at my art. I create things and I don’t worry about whether they’re sellable or not because I gave that crap up years ago. I was making art quilts for show and sale and I found myself creating things that I thought people wanted, not things I wanted. I stopped that. I don’t make art to match someone’s couch and I don’t work with giving a damn about profit.
I write too. No kidding. You’re reading this post, hopefully. I do write so that people will read but I also just write for me. Because there’s a lot of words wanting to come out and they have to go somewhere. Otherwise my friends get 6 page emails everyday and they can’t take it.
Today is the first day of a new year. Brand spanking new with nothing written on it, no complaining about how bad the year’s been yet although the diet commercials are starting to hit high gear. They give you until New Year’s Day and then they start with the “I lost 50 lbs on blah blah blah” stuff. I’m not interested in spending a year dieting, but I am interested in spending a year eating healthy. Today I bought the ingredients for Potato Kale Soup – when I told the kid, he groaned. I told him to pretend the green crap is broccoli and get over it. It’s just cream of potato soup with kale in it, for God’s sake.
I’m a kapha/pitta dosha in Auyerveda. Somewhere in my 700+ posts is a post on doshas. I will find it and reblog it. Basically kapha/pitta means I’m lazier than a vatta type, anger quicker than a straight kapha and I love spicy and rich food. I also love sweets (that’s kapha). I am large-boned with a tendency to be overweight. No, not a tendency, I am overweight. I don’t care, I just want to eat right and have lots of energy.
I don’t like meat. I’m a lapsed vegetarian because I was too lazy to cook a lot of vegetarian meals, but no more. We’re heading back to the no meat brigade and I’m going to have to cook. It’s okay because I don’t have to get home at 6 and get supper on the table. I’m here all day.
Eating meat makes me feel heavy and mean. I just hate consuming anything with a face on it. Even a fish. Fish have feelings too. Just ask them. Cows are pretty and don’t need to be eaten, plus they kill sick cows and put that stuff in the food chain. Who knows what they had?
This year I’m going to get back to yoga. I mean actually doing it, not thinking about it. I now have insurance that will pay for a chiropractor and thank God because my neck is stiff and my back hurts from cleaning the rooms out. I can now go to the chiropractor. Sigh.
This year I’m going to Boston, New York City and Paris. Well, at least Boston. It’s a 4 hour drive. I can cope with that. Or I could take the bus and stay over. Who knows what I’ll do. I may even take a bus to New York City. We’ll see. There are no buses to Paris, I checked.
So that’s my year. Now I have to go find the cat. She’s hiding somewhere and no one can find her. Damn cat.