Hubs and I spent hours searching for just the right shirt or top for him to wear to the Christmas party we attended. We both knew what we were looking for, but dang good luck finding anything classic. We finally found him a sharp black turtle neck and some shoes to match the pants we'd found at the first shop. Losing over fifty pounds makes it super hard to find anything in your closet. Determined there is definitely going to be more purging of clothing come January.
I simply wanted either a pair of low heels or a holiday sweater that wasn't going to require refinancing the house. No luck on either count. The shoe stores that I love have all closed up shop or switched over to a more athletic theme. Doesn't anyone wear dressier shoes anymore? I feel so out of touch with reality. And sweaters, well let's just say either they were stupid expensive or borderline "hookerific" to borrow a term from my daughters younger years.
All in all, we managed to clean up pretty nicely I believe! We had time with Hubs' coworkers and friends. I had the opportunity to meet some new folks. And to find out that staying off to myself so much anymore has slightly shifted my thoughts and ideals a bit.
As we returned home yesterday and Hubs lay down for a nap, I kicked into high gear on my projects. I needed to recenter myself, to feel normal. I'd just spent about 18 hours socializing and engaging with people. I honestly needed some silent time.
People have become so intense lately. From the man losing his mind outside of Target, because the person crossing the road wasn't moving fast enough to the oddly ironic conversations about the vax and the virus at a busy Christmas party, it felt disjointed and odd. I felt out of place and time in both instances.
The man seemed to sum up all of the road rage, hostility and anger that is swirling around everywhere lately. The intensity in the way he gripped the steering wheel and angry gleam in his eyes as he was screaming profanities at the person crossing the road lost in their own bubble of unawareness was surreal. I almost imagined a director yelling cut off to the side of the scene.
I understood his frustration, the person was wrapped up in their phone oblivious to everything around him as he crossed the road outside of any crosswalk on the dark night. It was oddly warm and getting warmer not cooler. There was a lot of tension in the air itself, which made no sense at all until an hour or so later when the sirens started to blare.
It's scary the way people are acting and reacting. My imagination had them all wrapped in bubble wrap made of oblivion, dense and darkly colored. Neither in the remotest aware of the other person and the effect their own actions and reactions were causing.
Shortly after as the sirens started blaring people morphed again. The fright of tornado's moving through the darkness of the night with destructive force was something you could feel in the air. Ironically, it was a true parallel to the actions that I had witnessed just a short while before on a much grander scale.
As the evening played out and the storm tracking stilled, the news drifting out of all the tornadoes that had danced across the region and their destructiveness became known people morphed again. Or rather some of them did.
People started reaching out to others, asking how they could help, offering prayers and sharing whatever they had. Shuddering in the dawning light at the destruction, at the quaint little towns laid to waste, the unknown loss of life, the waiting. Sadly, there were still people on twitter and the like shooting off hate filled comments about politics and people deserving what happened. I was stunned by those folks.
My heart was lifted by the quilters all gathering together virtually, finding out that a sweet local quilt shop in the little town of Mayfield had survived the devastation that laid waste to their town with so many lives lost. It wasn't that the shop remained, it was that the quilters from around the country had started reaching out asking if they could send quilts. Surely those people that had lost everything needed a quilt to keep them warm.
Quilters believe a quilt can fix any challenge in life. And that they cared enough to reach out gave me hope. I mean honestly, I believe a quilt can fix a lot of things, but when most of these folks no longer have homes, clothing, heck even a toothbrush... many of them have lost family, their beloved pets, everything, well a quilt right now is not going to do them much good. Although, it will remind them that someone, somewhere cared enough to help during their time of darkness and need.
Like I said it's been a whirlwind of thoughts, feelings and emotions. Some of the conversations at the Christmas party had me feeling a mix of disbelief and actually some downright fear at the way peoples minds work. The total irony of the conversation and situation not even being able to mix, similar to oil and water was completely lost on those sharing their thoughts. It was definitely odd.
The sun rising through the Arch over the old courthouse had me missing the beauty of working downtown so long ago. I had enjoyed the time with others, but I was definitely ready to return to my own bubble. To reflect and sort through my thoughts.
While Hubs took a much needed nap, those are not hours we usually keep, I dug in and got a lot of my projects done. It felt healing after all the "people" time of the past few days. This morning the sun has risen bright and beautiful, I have spoken to my sister and gotten the most recent update on Legend, wow, just wow! That boy is powering through everything, and moved to the final hall before coming home this morning! So as I enjoy the last of my current batch of firewood, my coffee and a leisurely start to the day I am feeling full of energy and ready to tackle my quiet world.
love and peace...
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