This Week in Charlie-Land: March 5-11

Sunday Morning Cinnamon Rolls (What’s left of them, anyway.)

This week I continued my quest to achieve wholly-ness.

My niece was in town for a few days to attend a home-schooling conference. She spent her nights here, although last night was the only one for which she was here to have dinner; so I made a Charlie meal. We had a modified version of the chicken dish I made last weekend for my dears, Sue and Cody. As I was spending the few hours it took to accomplish the chopping and browning and blending and sautéing and roasting and combining required to make this recipe I concocted, creating it again and improving it (I hoped), I thought how lucky I have been these past few weeks to have been able to cook for and tend to my sister, J, visiting from Florida, for Sue and Allison, home alone for a weekend, and for Cody, he being home from law school for spring break, and for M, here for her conference. Lucky because I know them and have them in my life. Lucky because I have reached a place in my life where I can enjoy taking care of others, creating food and comfort and clean for others, until, I don’t enjoy it — at which point, I have at last reached a place in my life where I can sit down, retreat inward, and not feel as if I am committing a sin to decide it’s time to take care of me.

Charlie-Chicken ingredients, prepped and ready to begin the cooking process. I am pretty proud of how I have adapted to this tiny kitchen space.

M was leaving this morning. She spends her life caring for many, many others with an exhausting schedule, and so I wanted to send her off with one last treat, one last comforting hug of deliciousness; nothing beats Sunday cinnamon rolls, except Sunday cinnamon rolls with triple icing. So, yes.

There is predicted the first snow of the season (hard to believe, the first) beginning Monday night and through Tuesday. We shall see. But, in preparation for it — and the enforced stay home and do nothingness of it, which is what I LOVE — I spent the remainder of my Saturday night after I had served and cleaned up the Charlie-meal for niece M and sister D, grocery shopping in preparation for the big storm. Don’t tell me I don’t have a wild and exciting life! I bought the goodies to make fattening chili, as well as high calorie-horrible for you chips and dip. Why? When I’m doing so well on my diet and have reached my pre-election weight (so only 15 more pounds to go) — because, sillys, everyone knows the calories you ingest during a snowstorm DO NOT COUNT!

Last night’s moon, seen from my parking lot.

While I was at the grocery store, I had the most wonderful time strolling up and down the aisles, making up backstories about the few other people spending their Saturday nights there. And when I got back to the apartment, I saw the moon, and the contrails seeming to climb from the moon toward the heavens.

A closer look; is that a trail left by angels flying away from the moon toward the heavens? Or, are residents of the moon sending us smoke-signals, telling us everything is going to be okay; we are always evolving in a manner ascending toward being better, kinder, wiser?

So much lucky, again, to have the ability to shop for food and feed myself, to take care of family and friends, and to have the leisure and eyes to see such a beautiful sky, not to mention, the peace of mind and space of heart to appreciate it.

Wholly-ness. Truth: the initial relief and mood-bump of the Wellbutrin has worn off. I am now settling into what I imagine is my new normal. I’ve had a weepy moment here and there — all of which have been fine because 1)I had control enough to stop them if I wanted to and confidence enough they were temporary and okay to allow them if I wanted to; and 2) the moments have come because I am looking at things and allowing myself to feel and think about things I haven’t processed before, or, from which I’ve been hiding. I think of it as coming out of a cocoon in which I have long been gestating; there is bound to be some discomfort and descents as I spread my new wings and learn to fly.

More truth: I’m having to face my fears about finances — short and long-term — so it’s no surprise the state would choose now to come after me; things happen that way. I wrote again and still have received no answer about the amount I owe or from when. I have been off and on panicking about what I’ll do if it’s thousands of dollars and I lose my license and registration: not sure how I’d function without driving, or, worse, the thought of disappointing people who depend on me to get them places. We’ll see.

The library books I have been messaged to pick up. All my holds came available in the matter of three days. WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!

This week, I’m going to make a pre-visit to a new house/pet sitting gig; read MORE (I’ve read three books since my last book post, but I’ll go into them at a later date.) because I have 7 — yes, SEVEN — books I have to pick up from the library. I ask again — why do holds I’ve put on over weeks/months seem ALWAYS to become available all at the same time? It better snow, so I can sit and eat and read.

And work on this wholly-thing some more. I feel like, if I can get this car/tax/whatever thing straightened out/taken care of/behind me without having this terror-pit in my stomach, if I can move past it, then maybe, it’s the first step to the underlying fear I have had for ages and ages and ever and ever about ending up on the street before I’m done.

Or, maybe I can come to accept that living on the street out of a shopping cart is what I’m meant to do.

Peace and wholeness and love and light, dear ones.

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