Okay, so I never really said I would blog regularly, did I? Let me check...no, I don't think I did. I did compare this blog to my compost pile, though. And that is actually an analogy I can take pretty far. You see, my real life compost pile, the one I can see out of the corner of my eye and am beginning to be able to smell, is a little overrun and way past ready to be taken out. Actually, I think the smell is probably worse than I realize, I'm just getting used to it. Some people have sweet little compost containers next to their sinks that look something like this
or this
Actually, most people that I know just use the garbage disposal or the trash. Sometimes I wish I could do that. But years of training by my father-in-law have me conditioned to throw everything into the bucket. Which brings me to the compost container I have. It starts with whatever empty container happens to be sitting by the sink and then, when that starts to overflow, rather than take it out and dump it in the designated area, I get one of my kids to bring a larger container from outside and I start to fill that. I don't have a problem with the collecting of compost. Apparently, I have a problem with the taking out of the compost. It's a dirty job. And it involves me putting on shoes. That just doesn't happen on a daily basis.
And that is why I do not blog every day. I let thoughts collect in my head and overflow from one container to another until, when I can't stand the sight or smell of them, I dump them. Here. This is the compost pile for my thoughts. You know, Composting my Thoughts. We have a title!
I wasn't even going to blog about this today. I was going to blog about something totally different. Which I have completely forgotten.
I will leave you with something I saw this morning that I really enjoyed. It's a video from a show that used to be my favorite. Don't judge me. Before you watch it, I'll give you a little background as to why it means so much to me. I used to live in the metroplex. As in Dallas/Fort Worth. The city. I drove for 45 minutes every day to get to work. I was not a nice driver. I had a little bit of a road rage problem. Now I live in a one stoplight town and I like to think I'm cured. However, much like a dieter who might enjoy watching someone else eat a piece of cake, I, a reformed angry driver, enjoyed living vicariously through Lois, my alter ego. Oh, and the background music is perfect. Enjoy.
4 comments:
Love it Pam!!
mom
Do we really only have one stoplight?
Geez!
Don't miss the smelly compost pile in my mom's sink. Mom was very particular about what went in that walmart sack, though. God forbid I slip and throw in a chicken bone or a clump of mashed potatoes. If that were the case then the contents of the walmart sack became dog food. ugh!
That cracked me up!
Love you.
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