Of Possums and Raspberries

I called the girls out the other night to see a possum that ran across the street and hid under my husbands 4Runner while I was taking the recycling out. They loved it. Crouched down, shining a flashlight under the car while they talked about all they had learned about possums from the Wild Kratts episode. (good PBS show about animals. 10/10)

Here is what they decided about the possum:

  1. Her name is Nosey.
  2. She is the cutest possum they’ve ever seeeeeeen! (Beauty. Eye. Beholder.)
  3. They gave her raspberries for Valentine’s Day gifts.
  4. They are planning on naming the next possum “Feet.” (…? Man, don’t ask me.)


Boy I tell you what… I love these lovely children.


All Better. Kinda.

So- the flu has finally passed- I’m through sickness and into health again, and just about normal.

I guess.

Here’s the thing. Maybe I learned something about myself through this flu.

Maybe I don’t necessarily like it.

Because the thing is… I sucked, sick. I was bitchy and short and pissy and multiple more none too flattering adjectives. And that sucks. Because if you’re a kind person only in normal situations, what does that make you?

What does that make me?

It’s been a weird relationship, me and my concept of self. Vestiges of social anxiety make me feel nigh on unforgivable for even the slightest of normal human failings. A streak of perfectionism leads to concepts of failing unless I’m overachieving. I cobble together self esteem through a variety of patches and props. So no, I don’t think I have a realistic view on myself. But see, I know that, so I often try to look at it from all angles- like a strange shell picked up from a beach. What lives in here, I wonder? What are the stripes for, camouflage or decoration? Are the spikes for defense or offense? And if you aren’t familiar with that particular kind of shell- how do you know if the one you hold in your hand is a good one?


And I’ve often wondered- is wanting to be a better person enough? Where do I cut myself some damn slack, ever, and where do I need to work harder? The answer is I never have known.

I want to be kind. But that’s different than being kind.

Lord. I don’t go gentle into… anything. I fight and claw and drag myself towards grace, and if it’s the journey that’s important then I’ll continue the journey. Just like I’ve always done. Just like I’ll always do.

Flu Addled Brain Pissed Off Book Reviews

Ah flu misery can sure turn me into a heartless bitch. And considering the only thing I’m “hopped up on” to cope is Theraflu I really have no outside agency to blame. I’m sweaty. And shivery. And HATED, with a passion, The Little Book of Hygge (pronounced Hoo-ga, because, sure?)


And I thought I’d like it- it got a good review in Real Simple magazine. I’m a cultural anthropologist and dig learning about other cultures. I liked Marie Kondo’s book on organizing… I thought I’d like this in a similar fashion. Did I?

It’s god damn insufferable is what it is. How self congratulatory can you f-ing get, Danes? Hygge is the concept of coziness (roughly) and something about expensive lighting? And how they go to crap restaurants because the lighting is good? And why schools have candles and they think that’s a great idea? WTH.

The writing sucked, and I’ll give a little of that to possible translation issues, but it read like the Japanese commercials on the Simpsons:


Which- I will give all the license to in the world to the author there- translations hitting the right cadence and structure on the head are really hard (whispers: but Marie Kondo did it just fine). This one didn’t get it right. I’d forgive that. It just added a really stilted delivery of the “We so adorable! You be adorable tooooooo! Maybe add a scarf to that outfit?”

And so much… common sense? Maybe some of this was new information to folks but I got nothing new out of it. Have a fireplace if you can! Newsflash: eat food you like! Camping helps shake off city living malaise! Decorate your house with stuff you actually like! Wear comfortable clothes! Be friends… with your friends! Maybe overhead florescent lights are a bad idea! Christmas is the best! Who doesn’t know this stuff already?!

And again- so self celebratory. Look. It’s great that you think woven paper hearts are cool at Christmas. Awesome, Danes. But it isn’t necessary for enjoying the season, you know? That’s stupidly specific. Just like the 3 recommendations for lamps.

Sometimes I wonder- did I get that Cultural Anthropology degree for any other reason than to be able to tack on “But it’s okay, I’m an Anthropologist” to taking the mickey out of another culture? Dude I might have.

A poem:

Oh book of Hygge (hoo-ga)

I really hated you-a

Even if I didn’t have the flu-a

I still would think you blew-a




Shared on Not Dressed as Lamb

On Flu Shots and Stuff

Ah my last flu shot- I remember it like it was yesterday… I was at my doctor’s office getting some blood work done for yet another thyroid check, and therefore had blood drawn from one arm and a flu shot in the opposite shoulder. Never one to miss the opportunity for this sort of thing, I waxed poetic about the unfairness of it all to my husband; my arm hurts, it feels like someone punched me in the shoulder, and here I am super pregnant and miserable already. *Needle scratch* Hold up. The baby’s now 1… so that means what? It means that I have the god damn flu right now because I THOUGHT I got the flu shot this year when in fact I got it LAST year.

Get your flu shots, folks. This shit ain’t fun.

On the plus side (Desperately Seeking Silver Lining) I have plenty of time to blog or write my local paper (already checked that one off the list, actually. I make such a good shut-in!) and letters to my aunt and uncle.

Let’s see, what else?

The baby had 4 teeth come in at once, but one of her front teeth is coming in MUCH faster than the others… I’ve started calling her Fang. Still not walking, but my grandmother is of the opinion she could if she wanted to. She’s awfully close though. It’ll be any day, methinks.

The new windows are in and this is the first time we’ve set the thermostat to 72 and actually had it be 72 when we wake up in the morning They look sharp too.

My house is trashed but I can’t muster the energy to put the Cheerios box away, so I’m taking the opportunity to fight any occasional OCD tendencies. I do like a clean house though, even if I don’t often mop the floors.

There is a woodpecker that comes to the bird feeder multiple times a day (hour, really) for (I think) the shelled peanuts in the mix we use. I have the perfect vantage point on him from the couch.

I see that my master plan to use this time to write extensively will be foiled by the fact that I have no energy to keep moving my fingers over keys… bummer.

Until next time.