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bowls of chocolate
Dec. 7th, 2013 11:17 pmYesterday I was a wound up mess. Panic attacks over random things, feeling as if I was dying. I realized that because of my schedule and the way the weather had been and so on, I hadn't been running in about a week. So I fit in some time to run, and I ran off all that anxiety, took a shower, felt physically worn out, but mentally a lot better. It rained a bit on me while I ran but that was fine. I let my thoughts ramble everywhere. I felt a million times better, and was able to concentrate and be present the rest of the day. Phew. What I can't control, I can't control and that is that. I baked cookies with Miss Biscuit. We made a triple chocolate chocolate chip cookie (yes, that is the name.) and some lemon ginger cookies. Gave some to my sister in law, because otherwise we will eat all of them, and we are already drowning in sweets. Saint Nicholas came and visited the kids and left gold coins in their shoes. In addition to other things that have invaded the house. Everyone has a chocolate blood level that isn't legal in some places. In fact, I received a package yesterday from a Secret Santa. It was FILLED with swiss chocolate. I am talking loads. It fills up a large mixing bowl. I have been kind and let the rest of the family have some, but it is mine mine mine. (with the sweets came a book on swiss cooking, which has notes in it on which recipes are pretty good. I may have to try this out soon.) I think of my Grandmother and her giant box of Christmas chocolate. My benevolent bowl of chocolate. I will hand some out to those I deem worthy.
Today I ran errands, did some more Christmas shopping, and mailed off some cards and packages. I went to the proper post office. Not the casual affair in the next village run by a guy in an old jumper who is pretty chill. The proper post office has people in proper uniforms, who appear very proper. There is one gentleman who works there, who always looks so done. His uniform is perfect, his hair is just so, and he looks like someone from another age. He is always terribly polite, and I think he is around my age. I look at him and think, "what are your dark secrets?" He looks like a young man from the 1930s who cares for an over-bearing invalided Mother at home, or who has had encounters in fields. DH Lawrence style.
We were lazy folks around the house this afternoon until Mr. Jenner decided we should go to the beach. A Jenner man gets ideas now and then about the need for a bit of self improvement or going on walks to improve character. This goes back several generations. It equally involves patient wives. We went to the beach, which was quiet and beautiful. It was before the sun set but you could see it going quick. The kids ran around and marked the beach. Miss Biscuit made Xs to say that pirate treasure was buried there. Senor Onion wrote the word poop. Graffiti is good. On the walk back to the car -which is tricky because it is over piles and piles of rocks, and across a fast moving stream (you have to cross assorted rocks) Mr. Jenner slipped and fell on some rocks. He was all right. Just a bit bruised and scraped. We did laugh because it isn't a trip out unless someone ends up slightly injured. The sun was gone, it was time to head home for dinner and warmth.
It's December, let's hibernate.
Today I ran errands, did some more Christmas shopping, and mailed off some cards and packages. I went to the proper post office. Not the casual affair in the next village run by a guy in an old jumper who is pretty chill. The proper post office has people in proper uniforms, who appear very proper. There is one gentleman who works there, who always looks so done. His uniform is perfect, his hair is just so, and he looks like someone from another age. He is always terribly polite, and I think he is around my age. I look at him and think, "what are your dark secrets?" He looks like a young man from the 1930s who cares for an over-bearing invalided Mother at home, or who has had encounters in fields. DH Lawrence style.
We were lazy folks around the house this afternoon until Mr. Jenner decided we should go to the beach. A Jenner man gets ideas now and then about the need for a bit of self improvement or going on walks to improve character. This goes back several generations. It equally involves patient wives. We went to the beach, which was quiet and beautiful. It was before the sun set but you could see it going quick. The kids ran around and marked the beach. Miss Biscuit made Xs to say that pirate treasure was buried there. Senor Onion wrote the word poop. Graffiti is good. On the walk back to the car -which is tricky because it is over piles and piles of rocks, and across a fast moving stream (you have to cross assorted rocks) Mr. Jenner slipped and fell on some rocks. He was all right. Just a bit bruised and scraped. We did laugh because it isn't a trip out unless someone ends up slightly injured. The sun was gone, it was time to head home for dinner and warmth.
It's December, let's hibernate.
