Note to self: Don’t. Drink. Wine.
And that’s all I got to say about that.
In other news, I woke up this morning to breakfast in bed, and Mother’s Day cards, and flowers delivered from my son in Washington, and two clematis vines, tomatoes and sweet peppers to plant in the mini-garden Ad is going to build me off our patio. He knows how much I have missed my garden and flowerbeds that I had at my old house, and how much pleasure I get from tending them. I will get even more pleasure from building it together, as I do when we cook & walk together.
Today I will take joy in the small, simple things.
As soon as my head stops hurting.
Everything seems to have hidden meanings just for me when I am either drinking or hung over from wine. Last night it was the Steve Miller Band’s “Fly Like an Eagle” on the way home:
Feed the babies
Who don’t have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin’ in the street
Oh, oh, there’s a solution
And I was convinced that I am wasting my time with all these selfish, carnal desires, with the need to satisfy my own base wants, when I should be doing something more. There’s so much more to do. So much more that is important. What do I do that has any meaning at all, that will change the world or make it a better place? What will I leave behind when I go?
I used to think I’d do something important in my life. Something that had meaning. Maybe we all think that, when we are young. And then we grow up and decide it’s enough to live in a way that, while it may not actively bring good, at least does no harm. And that’s okay. That’s enough.
But sometimes, like last night, I got to wondering if it is enough.
See why I shouldn’t drink wine?