Pity Party, and Books

67°f/19.4°C, windy, mixed sun and clouds. Reached 87°today, far too hot already.

This has not been a good week. Do you ever have times where it seems like just one thing after another? I know I have them, more often than I would like, but sometimes I can't seem to summon my usual resilience and positive outlook. Maybe I put them away someplace safe, and now can't find them?

Okay, now I am making myself smile. Such a pity party! But yesterday was just one of those no-good, very bad days. It started Monday, actually, when I realized that I had somehow gotten into a swarm of sneaky mosquitoes that had bitten my feet and ankles at least 20 times. I never even felt the bites, although I did kill one of the little b*st*rds. I didn't think a thing of it until later, when the awful itching started, and bumps popped up all over my feet. Misery, misery, and little sleep.

Then poor Daisy. Just so hard to see her go. At the same time, I was trying to finish up our taxes. Between crying and itching and crying and itching, the Lord above only knows what I filed. 

I think i did it all correctly, but filing for our tiny business is far more complicated than it needs to be. According to the government, we made a whooping $128 profit last year. Whoopee! Now I know it was more than that, but with the way they figure up costs, especially our vehicle expense, that's what the final number was. Which is good, actually. We needed to show a profit to continue claiming it as a business; otherwise it becomes a hobby in the government's eyes, and we would have to claim all the income but none of the expenses. 

And did I mention it's been hot? And humid. I have zero motivation to work outside, especially with these itchy feet. I had planned to get some more plants and seeds in, but it's not going to happen until this hot spell breaks.

So I have found house things to do, like finally setting up my business spreadsheet for this year and starting to enter my receipts. I shredded all the 2018 tax stuff, and organized my receipts for thus year into the correct categories, which will make getting them entered in the spreadsheet a little easier.  And I started painting another chest of drawers, finished up painting a mirror frame, and priced a couple totes of things for the booths.

I also made comfort food, just to make me feel better: chicken with fettuccine Alfredo,  asparagus, salad and a chocolate layer cake. (Which I need like a hole in the head.) We are getting lots of asparagus as the new patch we planted a few years ago is really coming into its own. I may have to freeze some. 

Our neighbor Jeff stopped by yesterday. It felt awkward, as he and his wife, whom I have known since she was born, are separated. My sympathies lie more with her, so I changed the subject when he brought up their split. Have you ever had to deal with a situation like that? How did you handle it? Just awkward.

I have added a couple more books to my daily reading stack. I find that I enjoy this style of reading very much---a mix of essays, short stories, poetry, diary entries, historic calendar events, and two novels. I wonder if it is the internet that has pushed me to this reading short bits from a variety of sources? It is the way we interact online, isn't it? 

The book of diary entries (The Assassin's Cloak) has sent me researching the diarists,  and the book about writers' rooms has done the same. In fact one of those essays prompted me to order a book called The Country of the Pointed Firs, by Sarah Orne Jewett, a writer I had not heard of before. I am enjoying her old-fashioned but beautiful prose.

The other novel I am reading is called Traveling Light, by Lynne Branard.

It's a light, humorous read so far, about a lady who wins a storage locker in a contest, and finds a box with someone's ashes in there. She de ides to take the ashes back to New Mexico, where the deceased was from, and the book follows her adventures as she makes this journey.

Oh, and I ordered a copy of Dylan Thomas' poems too because of another entry in that book. I confess that I find Thonas difficult to decipher. I find I cannot read more than one or two at a time, and must go back and read over them several times to try to decipher his meaning, but his use of language is intriguing and brilliant, I think. His life was tempestuous and tragic in many ways, so much of it self-inflicted, and it is sad that such a talent had to die so young. To think what works he might have created had he lived! Wales is right to be proud of this native son, troubled though he was.

Well, I feel in a much better frame of mind now! So if you made it this far, thank you for being a listening ear. I promise to be a more cheerful companion tomorrow!

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.