Whew, being disciplined takes dedication. And I’m a little short on suitable, safe topics again tonight. I guess I could write about my dog, as he’s a fan favorite, but considering how much of his hair I sucked up in the vacuum tonight, he’s not on my highly favored list right now. (I know he can’t help it, yes, I knew he was a shedder from the first time I laid eyes on him, and yes, he gets brushed daily. I vacuum at least twice a week with the Shark Petpro XLT or whatever it’s called but DANG.)

I’ve been asking myself why I’m so critical. It especially concerns Facebook, which is a sure sign I’m spending too much time on there. I’m for less kids and more dogs. Less “what your Ninja Warrior name would be” and more chicken and dumplings. Less griping about politics and more about what you’re reading. Less bragging about what you’ve bought and where you’re going and more about how you’re spending time with those you love in their homes, or yours. Why ya gotta be so fancy? Less pretension, overall, and more truth. Less passive aggressiveness and more directness. Quit faking it. Who are you trying to impress with some of this stuff?

Enough.

So I’ve come to the point in my life, when I go to buy something, I have to face reality and determine where I’m going to put it, and therefore, what am I going to get rid of. Because the inn is full. And the basement. And my office. I’m precariously close to being called a hoarder if I purchase one more book. There is no more room for bookshelves unless I have built-ins made. And then I would lose wall space, and where would all my Gone With the Wind pictures go? As you can see, this is quite the conundrum.

For Christmas, Kevin got me this block sign that says, “Alcohol. Because no great story ever started with someone eating a salad.” {Except Stacy has one. A very, very delicious salad has been the catalyst for many belly laughs🤣🤣🤣}. So in order to display said sign, I had to find a suitable location. The kitchen is the obvious place, but my windowsill is full to brimming with other little trinkets, especially here at Christmas.

I eyed my shelves that bracket the window. They don’t have too much stuff on them, because I hate to dust, but I could definitely get rid of some stuff. Especially shot glasses. I don’t know how I wound up with so many! Oh, wait, yes, I do. Lisa.

But where would I put them? Then I noticed my lemon tree. It was like I was seeing it anew. And I found it ugly. I took it down, snarled my nose at the dust, and took it outside to see if I could salvage any parts of it. I thought maybe I could stick the little lemons in a mason jar and keep the pot for an aloe plant or something. I have aloe running out my ears at all times.

Well, the lemons had definitely lived past their prime so I chunked everything but the pot in the garbage. Then I stood there wondering how long I had not truly loved that object I bought back in my early twenties. And how long had it been since I really LOOKED at it? And how many other things are in my house that don’t bring me joy, and are actually weighing me down?

I wasn’t prepared for all this on a Thursday night that I kept thinking was Wednesday. So I decided to eat some vanilla Oreos instead, and begin my fourth blog post of the year.

Chester wanted me to let y’all know he got a pedicure today, and no longer identifies as a velociraptor.

A friend invited me out to Barley’s tomorrow night. I declined, and told her to have fun. She asked what my plans were, why couldn’t I come. While I find this line of questioning a bit nosy, I answered truthfully: “No plans, I just don’t want to. I don’t like driving downtown after dark and I just don’t want to get out. Plus, last time I ate there, their pizza hurt my belly.” And you know what? My friend said she really appreciated my honesty. And I appreciate her being able to hear my truth and not trying to convince me or make me feel like a fuddy-duddy. I’ve made my peace with never being hip. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to leave my house at all. I really like it here. Especially now that I’ve dispatched an ugly lemon tree.

I have a feeling spring cleaning may come early. Like with Epiphany. 😁

Tomorrow is Friday. Tomorrow is Friday. Tomorrow is Friday. Maybe I’ll get straightened out this weekend. 👠👠👠👠👠👠 If not, maybe it’ll make for a more entertaining post than this one. Yesterday when I poured my guts out, all the comments were centered around Trader Joe’s, a minor player in the grand scheme of things. I wonder what will be the standout from tonight’s.

I’m off to count sheep.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy