Sometimes Greg asks me weird questions. I mean, I think he means well. He’s just not always logical.
Like, when I told him we were getting a free piano last week, Greg said, “Where are we going to put it?” Which is also what our kids said. I can only assume it’s Greg’s influence on them.
I think a more appropriate response is, “Oh my gosh; YAY! How did you manage to snag a free piano, Beth? Are you made out of MAGIC?” Or, “That is the BEST NEWS EVER. How soon can we pick it up?”
Instead, I got, “Where are we going to put it?” Followed by, “And who exactly do you think is picking it up?” Followed by eye rolling and sighing and what basically amounts to All the Cues of Grave Reluctance.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
It’s OK, though. Greg I have been married a Very Long Time now, so I know he responds this way to Good News. He just needs time to realize my plans are the Best Ever.
Last month, just in time for Christmas, I told him, “I Know What to Do Now.” And, “All Our Problems Are Solved!” And, “Even Though Our World Is Absurd and Sad Right Now, I HAVE A PLAN FOR UNLIMITED JOY.”
“WE ARE GOING TO HAVE ALL THE PUPPIES, GREG.
Did you know the Golden Retriever Rescue organization in Oregon
LETS YOU FOSTER DOGS?
UNLIMITED GOLDEN RETRIEVERS.
(Well, they might have limits, but, still…
DOGS FOR DAYS!)”
Greg said, “Hooray!”
Except minus the word hooray and plus the word no.
ESSENTIALLY THE SAME THING.
Then he looked at me disdainfully for a while.
Then he sighed for a couple weeks.
Then he said, “Fine. You have to pick up all the poop.”
YAAAAAYYYY!
So our free piano is lovely…
… and we’re on foster dog #2, the handsomest, sweetest, funniest, hugest, FARTIEST Golden Retriever in the world. (Food transitions are hard, man.)
In conclusion, I know what to do now. Or, at least, a teeny, TINY bit of what to do, which, mathematically speaking is INFINITY TIMES more than what I knew before. I mean, YES, our world is all effed up. And YES, the news is discouraging Every Single Day; devastating on the days it’s not discouraging. And YES, sometimes it’s really, super extra hard to put on clothes and to know how to exist in a world like this. BUT WE CAN FILL OUR HOUSE WITH GOLDEN DOGS, SO ALL IS NOT LOST. All is not lost when we spread compassion wherever we can.
With love to you, friends, and extra dog hairs if anyone needs some,
P.S. What are you doing that brings you joy these days? ‘Cause I could use a longer list.
P.P.S. The gigantic baby above — a 90 lb. bag of awesome — is moving to his new home on Friday which means ANOTHER GOLDEN IS ON THE WAY TO OUR HOUSE SOON. YIPPEE!
P.P.P.S. This is pretty much Greg and me, where Greg plays the role of Karen:
I DID IT FOR US, GREG.
20 responses to “I know what to do now! All is not lost.”
Get thee farty dog some probiotics! Nobody should have to live with farty dog stench, especially those somebodies who didn’t want extra cuddly dogs in the house in the first place.
My joy is dancing, and since I’m on a hiatus from taking classes and performing while I’m working on my Masters, my dancing now takes place in the kitchen and living room in front of the large bay window. Bring it, good neighbors, see me embrace all my uncoordination while artfully lit from behind.
I decided to just let myself drink pop without feeling any type of way about it. It’s bringing me a lot of joy and also some more fat, but who cares? Joy > fat.
I love to sing. I’m gratefully enabled in this by my 10 year old son and 8 year old daughter who also love to sing. Especially Phineas and Ferb songs like “Gitchee Gitchee Goo means that I Love You” and “B-U-S-T-E-D You are BUSTED!” Also Haywood Bank’s revenge song which after literally years of singing out loud I still cannot sing without laughing. All of which are available for purchase on iTunes. You’re welcome.
Also roller skating.
And reading this blog.
Thank you for helping me smile today
For variety, you could take the lead from my 18 month old who loves Little Einsteins and Word Party. Both available on Netflix for endless entertainment.
I told my husband last night that it was ok the house was a mess because that’s obviously not our gifting and we are doing some things right because our kids are happy, learning, and thriving. We just can’t invite anybody over
This fostering thing. I do not think we know how it works.
~ Grace from Nine Dogs is a Lot of Dogs
I am knitting tiny hats and giving them to babies who need more warmth. Nobody was ever uncheered by a warm baby.
I started writing down three moments of joy each day. Basically because Oprah told me to. And it’s helping. When you pay attention top the small things that give you joy, you end up looking for them and noticing them more.
Anyway, you and your blog are amazing. Please keep writing and sharing.
I’ve got nothing. But your posts make me smile. I’m lucky in that I have a husband who might roll his eyes, but he more rolls with the punches when it comes to my crazy ideas. Like my ginormous project vintage medical cabinet which was a BARGAIN! That we had to drive 100 miles for and somehow get it out of a cellar, the cement stairs of which had possibly a half an inch to spare and which took great maneuvering on our part and all of our breath and energy and which now sits bottom half in my kitchen mostly re-done and top half waiting patiently on my Fred Sanford front porch for us to muster the strength and determination to bring it inside and mostly re-do it like its bottom half. My neighbors love me, too.
One thing, though Beth – trust God. People will ALWAYS let us down. Love God, love each other. Period.
gonna go see if I can find a picture of my cabinet. Your piano is awesome; I can’t wait to get one!
I am painting wee watercolors of beetles off of a Christopher Marley calendar. Google him. His photography is exquisite.
The fartiest dog!! Have you seen Walter the Farting Dog?? If not, get thee to thy bookstore, my friend, and prepare your stomach and other muscles for the agony of uncontrollable laughter. I recommend crunches and kegels before reading.
We foster kittens and cats for a local rescue. The dear sweet ladies who are in charge go out and trap feral cats (which is remarkably similar to trapping rabid lions) and take them for their spay and neuter before returning them to a nice safe colony somewhere in the country, where they can be feral rabid lions with shelter and plenty of kibble and warm spaces to go to when it’s cold. Unfortunately, the rabid-lion-minis are not tameable, but their babies, when a pregnant or nursing feral is trapped… those can be reconditioned to understand that Humans Are Not Bad and are not trying to eat them. That’s our job- cuddling tiny baby fluffs-with-claws that are pre-rabid-lions-in-miniature and taming them before they grow into rabid-lions-in-miniature, so they become Lap Kitties(TM) and Parrots(c).
Currently, my little Leo is playing Parrot(c). He was a “failed” foster in that we failed to send him off to a different forever. His feral mini-lion mama wasn’t capable of producing enough milk, so little Leo spent two nights sleeping on my shoulder, making us wonder will-he-won’t-he? be here in the mornings. Clearly he will, and did, survive his rough beginning, and he’s grown into a handsome, mischevious, obnoxious little twerp that we love insanely. Clearly, we are insane because we allow him to knock All The Things off my desk, tear up our hands while pretending to be a mini-rabid-lion, and race around attacking our feet at 3AM, and still love him.
Anyway… Best of luck with your Walters! <3 They sound glorious. All we can do is take care of our circle. God bless, Friend.
It takes a lot to make me LOL but your writing does it consistently. My friend once noticed that many of my sentences begin with, “I have a good idea…” which usually involves flexibility and spontaneity on my husband’s part. While he has a lot of great qualities, those are not two of them.
Poor Greg. He and my husband should start a support group for men who are married to A Beth (or A Karen). For real.
I’m looking for little pockets of joy amid the daily chaos. My high-anxiety, maybe ADD, daughter forgot her glasses yesterday, only realizing when I dropped her off at school which set her off and RUINED her day. (Just the first 3 minutes, apparently, but STILL.) But at dinner, all 3 of my kids were sitting at the kitchen counter eating their dinner – silently – and most importantly, NOT complaining about how “gross, icky or weird” it looked/smelled, I didn’t even realize until my husband walked through and asked, “What’s wrong with your face?” that I had a stupid-happy grin on my face, because dammit, these people make me so happy.
After dinner, the kitchen was a mess, which did not bring me joy, but I forced myself to just DO IT, and once it was clean, I was quite happy. And wine. All of the wine.
OMG, that golden retriever looks so much like OUR elderly golden retriever, Hunter, who is a sweetheart. I love goldens!
Oh, and yea for a free piano! I am hoping to bring one of those into our home this year, but I doubt I will be able to get one for nothing. 🙂
Check Craig’s list. There are always free pianos on Craig’s list.
Things that currently bring me joy:
*Chocolate, because – duh
*Christmas white chocolate mint Hershey’s Kisses
*Letting my 14 year old make no bake cookies for dinner because I’m in the midst of a meltdown
*Audible’s romance package
*No school days
*Hugs
Yeah, most of these are about food, but I figure mourning my mom won’t last forever. PS – This is a hilarious/awful (and will maybe make someone else smile) – my actual last words to my mom were “holy shit mom!” I’m pretty much mostly certain from the other side of the veil she laughed so hard she peed a little.
I have come to the conclusion that in my marriage, I am both you AND Greg. I seek out things like cheap secondhand pianos, and then do nothing about it because “where would we put it?!?” I find adult ballet classes because I want to be a ballerina when I’m 90, but I never sign up because that would be silly and spend money I don’t need to spend and I’d surely embarrass myself. So I’m in this constant state of angst because the Beth on one shoulder and the Greg on the other shoulder are always disagreeing, and my poor husband is blissfully unaware about why his wife is losing her marbles. 😉
I’m short on joy lately, is what I’m saying.
Anne – yes to this! No wonder you are losing your marbles – perpetual angst will do that for sure. Are you a writer? If so, where? If not, be proud because you have strung together all the words in an I-am-so-a-writer way.
This is wonderful!
I am doing two things to make my life feel more manageable. I am taking a French class (free through my university job), and I am learning kickboxing (not free, but man do I love punching and kicking things!)
I LOVE you, Beth. Love you. Love.