Shit Happens - Life Goes On

     Was in a stoic mode all day today. Steady as she goes, do what you must. Not much chatter. Just lots on my mind. It's cool, shit gets put in your path. You either walk around it, or walk through it. Eventually you find another place to walk. I've been up and down for a while now. It's getting to me. So much that I was willing to do a leave without pay for the final Friday of my two week off jaunt from work in November. One days pay offered up for the sanity of taking a vacation day this coming Friday. Well worth it in my book. I love going to NY. I get a sense of renewal. I'm literally going back to where my story begins. Ooh how profound this ole gal can be. Didn't even try to be. I'm a natural. (And the crowd goes wild).   This time though, a big change. Yes you DO sense a disturbance in the force. Hubs is going with me!! Yes, you read correctly. We leave mid morning and I hope the road gods are kind enough to allow us to get there by about half 2. Dad doesn't know, surprise! Lol Hubs is well aware of my funk and I'm sure this is a shot at cheering me up. It's working. I'm delighted he's going. A friend is coming over for dinner and the 3 of us are whisking dad away for a meal out. Great place. Called Umberto's. I'd say local sans the fact that it was on the Food Network. One of the chefs loves their pizza. Rightfully so, it's so well done, but ooh their linguine with clam sauce - heaven in a bowl. Carbs be damned, homemade hot out of the oven Italian bread. No one can resist that! Repeating mantra - moderation moderation moderfuckingration! Yes I'll be diligent but will be a nice night. Dad will be so surprised, hope it's not too much to take. Don't want him ill from the shock. (Nervous chuckle)
We are tightening the belt here so this will be a slight loosening up a notch. I need my NY. I need the sound of the waves, the home I grew up in. The familiar all around me from the moment I step foot in that house. I remember the feel of those footy pj's I had. I can actually remember them. I remember the feel of my garnet red wool blanket that covered my bed and the warmth I felt on cold nights. The sounds, even the smells. Funny stories, like the time a squirrel came inside. He must of come in through a hole in the roof. Well I was about 7 and I was in the bathroom with my Nona. My mom said to stay in there. I could hear her and dad trying to get the squirrel out the front door. Well I couldn't stand it any longer. I open the bathroom door and starring right at me is the squirrel. I was startled so I screamed. This scared the furry little rodent and he turned and high tailed it out of dodge. Yep, right down the stairs and out the open front door. Score one for the chubby kid in the red footys. Which by the way were too long on me. Sigh......
      This whole home thing is heightened by the fact that the colder weather is coming in. I get a terrible nesting urge this time of year. I want to do all these DIY projects and in good faith scour Pinterest and like minded websites. Get fabulous ideas, do nothing. Well that's not entirely true. But I have found out that when I shoot for the shabby chic cottage look, it just looks like a rummage sale. But I also bake this time of year. I wonder if I can bake when I'm in England. My friend uses special flour, because, well just because . No need to explain, but I have done good recipes using that kind of flour and it would be nice to make a treat for the family using it so he can indulge as well. Oh I'm sure we all will be indulging plenty but something homemade just feels right. To me anyway. I'm odd that way. Well that's one way. Lol ;-)
      Tangent alert! Friends father died today. He was with him he said when he passed. No pain, just peace. Sad and beautiful at the same time. Told ya, total 360 change of subject. Thought came into my head so I acknowledged it. I am sad for his loss. It happens to us all. I lost my mother 17 years ago this month, I hope I'm sparred my dad for some time. He has good and fond memories though he said.
      See that's the beauty of memories. They can hurt sometimes, but moreover, they are a comfort. A giggle and sometimes, even a turn on. They wrap us in emotion, sometimes at the wrong times, but I would never give them up if at all possible.
     Okay, thoughts are not staying focused,  as evident in the last few lines. So before I go completely James Joyce and stop using punctuation altogether, I will sign off.  So ciao for now.   Oh - do you like how I hinted that I'm freakin well read by knowing that Joyce wrote the last part of Ulysses with none. Check it out if you don't believe me, and he wrote some naughty saucy tales too. That crazy SOB. Hahaha.