Have you ever sat down to blog and just stared at your computer screen thinking, “Meh . . .”
That’s how I’ve been feeling all week. Nothing seems interesting enough to write about.
Wednesday I took the kids to the zoo. Meh.
Thursday I went to the town book club. Meh.
Although that one was almost interesting enough to talk about. Weird Christian soap opera fiction novel. Well, I guess the fact that it was a Christian soap opera novel is what made it weird to me. I have nothing against religion in literature, but combine that with the whole soap opera thing and the overt preachy-ness, and the fact that it barely qualifies as literature anyway, and it just wasn’t my favorite. But during the discussion I was able to bring up blogging, which none of them do. They thought it seemed odd to just throw your soul out there on the internet for everybody to read. I explained a bit about the community and support one can find through blogging and they understood it better. I didn’t tell them where to find me out here on the ‘net. Wondering if they’re searching?
Okay, I guess book club was interesting enough to blog about, so maybe I’ll have to do another post later, maybe for my Mormon Monday, because we talked about whether or not we’ve felt God speaking to us or guiding us in our lives (it’s a theme in the Christian soap opera fiction novel we read) and most of the women said, “No.” That shocked me since they are all church-going women. Lutherans. I know very, very little about Lutherans, except for what I’ve learned from A Prairie Home Companion (*snort*). Do they not believe in personal revelation? Anyway, later on that topic.
Friday I went to a Pampered Chef party. Meh. Sure their stuff is good, but I’m cheap, people. I can get most of what they sell for half the price somewhere else.
Also on Friday, Quinn very, very distinctly said, “All done!” while doing the corresponding sign. So in about three years I’m sure he’ll say it again.
Today I went to the grocery store. Meh. The most interesting part about that was the inexplicable bad mood I was in when I got home. I finally figured out it was because having to drive through corn and soy for 30 minutes to get to a town with a decent grocery store, and then drive another 30 minutes to get back home, is depressing.
And the speed limits! Good grief! On the highways packed with cars back home the speed limit is 65, so you can go at least 70 with no worries. But here? On the flat, straight country roads where you can see for miles and miles and you feel like you are the only person on the road in the entire world? The speed limit is 50 or 55 (depending) so you can only go about 55 with no worries. Because? As soon as you go faster than that? A state highway patrolman will drop out of the sky, pass you, clock you at 67, and turn around in a corn field to chase you down like the hardened criminal you are. Now, luckily, he will feel sorry for you when he sees your license and realizes you have . . . ahem . . . very recently . . . moved to BFE from the real world where people are allowed to drive faster than a sloth on a motor scooter, so he’ll let you off with a warning.
Anyway, it probably makes no sense, but I feel less isolated if I just stay home a lot. Going ANYWHERE reminds me how far I am from EVERYWHERE. Don’t get me wrong, living in BFE has its advantages: It is very peaceful, which I like; the stars at night are an amazing sight out here in the land of Zero Light Pollution; I can have my shoes cobbled and the dents pounded out of my car all at the same location; in the spring I will be able to put in my circular meadow. But still . . . *whimper*.
Also today I rearranged my dining room. See what an exciting life I lead?
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt isn’t doing much either.