Name one thing not many people know about you.
I am an open book once you get me talking. I will spill everything and tell you many things, some of which couldn’t possibly interest you and I don’t even care. It happened at my CT scan last week when the nurse asked me one innocent little question and I proceeded to blather away for ten minutes as her eyes glazed over. Then I just decided to shut up. It was probably nerves. But here’s the thing you would never guess. I hate talking to strangers. So I have no idea what makes me feel like I have to do it.
Maybe I was conditioned from working so long as an optician in a retail setting where it was a job requirement to interact with patients and customers. I always had to push myself to initiate a conversation. And then I’d learn all kinds of weird things once we got started. People confide in this face.
I also hate being asked when I’m shopping if I need any help. Yes of course I need help, but not necessarily the kind I’m being offered unless the employee is a psychiatric therapist working part-time in a shoe store and can give me some life skill tips.
See what I mean? I just say shit and wonder why later.
If a distant uncle dies and you were always his favorite and he leaves you $50,000 (any currency) in his will, what would you do?
First I would wonder why I was always his favourite. Because for sure I never called him or remembered his birthday. I would gratefully accept the cash and put it in the bank. From there it would slowly dwindle away and disappear. Then I would wonder where the hell it all went.
Where do you hide junk when people come over?
In cupboards and drawers and closets or just stacked neatly in plain sight. If I get too creative about squirreling it away it may never surface again. This house is not that big so it’s incredible how many things go missing in a day. But random things also show up. Like the iSkin film for my iPad to keep the screen from getting all wrecked. It turned up yesterday from under a pile of papers, but it might as well have stayed missing because I made such a mess putting it on that I peeled it off again and threw it out. Gawd, my life is just one traumatic episode after another.
Complete this sentence: I want to learn more about …
…..historic castles in Britain. I did not know I wanted to learn more about them until a couple of days ago when I started watching “Secrets of Great British Castles” on Netflix. The Tower of London was once a sort of zoo housing exotic animals royalty received as gifts. Why did nobody ever tell me this before? I’m surprised it’s never come up in the check out line up at the grocery store.
Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
W has come home from the east to wait for the river ice to break up at the island and then he will head back for spring fishing and whatever he messes about doing for the rest of the summer. While he is home I have put him to work on the lawn. Because what are husbands good for if not rigorous yard work.
I have sanded and painted the stair railings, working outside in the sunshine, inhaling sawdust and paint fumes. It will be interesting to see if I can put them back where they came from right side up and all. There is still some prep work left to do on the walls and trim in the back entrance and then the second coat of white goes on the ceiling and the trim. The rest will be a beautiful shade called coconut milk which will compliment the wood panels part way up two walls. It’s the greatest stuff for a hallway because it absorbs boot and shoe and handprint marks. If it was all paint I probably wouldn’t let anyone come in via the back door ever again. Sort of like how I don’t want anyone to touch the taps or turn on the water after the sink is all sparkly clean.
Every day I add something to the garage sale pile. W firmly believes the garage sale is imaginary and will never happen. Oh he of little faith, who may be right, but the stuff is going somewhere, someday.
Next week I’m looking forward to carrying on carrying on. And maybe naming those galaxies in my coffee.