"As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler; solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness be weakness." Henry David ThoreauSaturday was go, go, go! My oldest daughter had a softball tourney in another town. She had a friend stay over and I got them up, dressed in their uniforms and off by 7:15 am.
My younger daughter had her church retreat for First Communion beginning at 9:45 am, my youngest son had a ballgame at 12:00 pm and my oldest son had a ballgame at 2:00 pm.
I got everyone else up, dressed and fed and then it was off to Grandma’s house where I left the boys so she could get them to the ball field. I drove over to the Church, dropped off my four dozen sugar cookies and did the retreat thing with my daughter. It was fun. Then it was off to the ball fields to watch my youngest son’s game.
He played third base, catcher, and pitcher. He laid down a textbook bunt but then stepped on the ball so it was an automatic out. He had a few good plays and had an overall great game.
My oldest son is on a team where a few of the parents have “mykiditis”, and constantly yell and cheer their child on. Now this is little league and one would think, people would have moved on. Here’s some examples:
“Good try, JB!” (My thought – no it wasn’t, if JB would have tried, he wouldn’t have missed the pitch and allow the runner plenty of time to steal home!)
“Good pitch JB!” (Now JB has moved to the pitcher’s mound . . . My thought – no it wasn’t and this is the 3rd batter he’s walked!)
“Great hit JB!” (My thought – great hit for the other team as it rolled right down the first base line, allowing the first baseman to stroll over, leisurely pick up the ball and walk back to first base to get the out. It would have been a better hit, if JB would have taken the bat and smacked his mother in the mouth with it.)
This is a nonfiction account of one overzealous mother who has a nasally whine and an extreme southern accent. You get the picture. I feel sorry for poor JB.
After my oldest son’s baseball game it was over to the senior league field where he had practice for the school team. I would have gone home for a few hours but there was a mandatory parent meeting after practice. So there I sat for another two hours while my younger daughter and youngest son made mud pies with a few other kids.
I got a little angry at the parent meeting but held my tongue. Apparently some of the parents are upset because there are so many boys playing both little league and school ball. I don’t really understand it but I’m not that concerned. The reason we get to play on the senior field is because so many of those boys and the coaches have been involved with the athletic association for years.
The Athletic Director explained the reason – this is a building year and most of the boys playing little league this year will age out by next year. It is a woman, therefore the logic.
One of the mothers brought up the fact that two boys on the team were suspended from school but yet they got to play in the game. HEY WAIT A MINUTE! That bi*ch is talking about my son, which quite frankly, his suspension is none of her business. But instead of confronting her, I chose the childish path – to stand behind her and make faces behind my sunglasses and think evil thoughts. As immature as it sounds, it did keep me from wrapping my fingers around her throat and squeeze until her face turned purple.
The Athletic Director addressed her concern by telling her that any suspensions are between the student, the parents and the school. BRAVO!
I got a bad case of the blues and I can’t seem to shake it. Not the blah’s but the blues. I’m not sure why I’m quiet and it feels like I’ve “fallen into myself” and I’m turned inside out. I’m not unhappy nor are there any life turmoil impacting my thoughts.
My personal year says 2005 will be a time for reflecting and not to expect much action. I’ve always been one not to do as I’m told but perhaps stronger forces than I are working against me and now I should just go with the flow. So here I am, going with the flow.
I haven’t heard anything from any of my submissions:
1 short story to Mid-South Review (submitted 10/14/2004)
1 poem to Maelstrom (submitted 10/28/2004)
1 poem to Evergreen Review (submitted 11/15/2004)
1 short story to Collected Stories (submitted 1/27/2005)
1 poem to River Walk Journal (submitted 1/27/2005)
1 poem to Binnacle Prose Competition (submitted 1/31/2005)
4 poems to Failbetter Magazine (submitted 2/22/2005)
2 short stories to Solander Magazine (submitted 10/4/2004 and 2/28/2005)
1 essay to Charlotte Parent Magazine (submitted 2/28/2005)
5 poems to Epiphany Magazine (submitted 3/2/2005)
I suppose the numbers are right . . . don’t expect much action. Geesh!
I suppose if I do have concerns, it is with money. Now that I’m only working part-time I’m not “rolling in the dough” as I once was but I’m much, much happier. I really haven’t given up much and looking back, it is a little selfish of me. My selfish purchases are:
Books (and lots of them)
Laptop (I love it, but did I really need it?)
Dining out (lazy, lazy, lazy)
I’ve made a commitment to transcend into a non-consumer. This will be a gradual transformation because I’d lose my mind if I had to go “cold turkey”. Except for the basics – food, gas, mortgage, insurance, kid clothes, utilities, etc, I’m curtailing buying any extras as much as possible. I realize there will be weak moments. Of course I can say this now that I have Harry Potter and the Half Blood pre-ordered. This is going to be an education for me as ever since I’ve been on my own, I’ve purchased whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Oh, and I have one more purchase I have to make but it is less than twenty dollars. There is Disneyworld in September and a trip to New York with my sister in December, but that is it.
Here’s to my experiment in frugality . . .
BK
