They all asked for you (in your sleep)
My days are crammed full of all the good things in life – satisfying work, change for the better, Tin building cranes out of drumsticks and making trumpets out of forks. I walk through the house that a moment ago seemed like an incredible burden and now I see freedom. Rudy is still on a scaffold in back of the house putting up the hardie board after he tore out the dry rotted low grade cypress from up north that wasn’t back primed and had become a nest for termites. And yet, Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care.
My new client called with a project that had a fast turned around deadline and I found myself immersed in another world for two days. The holidays are here I’m fielding several inquiries a day for people who want to rent the LaLa in so many different configurations that it makes my head spin. In the question of how much can you give up, you’d be surprised what the answer is – as I told my neighbor, the scales have fallen from my eyes and I’d sleep in the gutter if it meant not having my life hijacked by someone else’s agenda.
I have cultivated an ADD life, but I’m still learning what not to juggle, sort of like put my life in a flip book and you’ll see me juggling elephants and rhinoceros and gazelles and mice with relative ease and a smile on my face and then you’ll see a skunk or porcupine suddenly get added to the mix and my smile morphs into consternation and then in fast motion the nasties are thrown to my back, my heel kicks up overhead and shoves them out into the stratosphere, and next frame come seals and long-necked giraffes and humped back whales, and the smile is back, then come the big yellow birds and red Elmos and a few bad moods that followed one toddler in who through each flip grows more awesome every day, and I’m juggling, dancing a jig, first on the porch, then on the roof, and then I’m on a skiff creating a wake in the bayou. All the time whistling.
Thoughts like these are what keep me up at night, gone are the negative porcupines and skunks that have been invading shuffle, my juggle, my playlist and my sleep for the past 18 months.
I’m the woman who got a pig, and oh what a difference to me.