Guilt...

I have noticed I have an overwhelming saddle of guilt. I see it in moments when I am tired, 

or my ability to complete things falls short. It really follows me everywhere, and I am starting to see how absurdly contradictory it is. In spite of the knowledge that guilt will do me no good on a daily bases, I still feel it crawling its long clammy claws through the folds of each day and burdening my sheer existence with its weight. 

I feel guilty when I go grocery shopping and spend too much money on 

groceries—even if we need them. 

I feel guilty when I leave a grocery store, carrying out only one bag of 

ingredients that will last me but a single day.

I feel guilty when I make a luscious dinner with fabulous vegetables 

and expensive grass-fed meat. 

I feel guilty when I choose to make a cheap, simple dinner of pasta and 

cheese, knowing full well I am not feeding my family what it needs.

I feel guilt when I shop at Trader Joe's because it has so many irresistibly 

items that it always makes for a high total which I accept by scribbling my

 signature at the bottom of a very long receipt. 

I feel guilty when I am at a independently owned health-food-store and know 

I could get the same items at Trader Joe's for so much less money.

I feel guilty when I spend money to pay the bills.

I feel guilty when the bills don't get paid.

I feel guilty when I don't open the pie truck.

I feel guilty when I'm at the pie truck late, because I should 

be at home being a mother.

I feel guilty when I spend hours on this computer, carefully going 

over each line in one of my books.

I feel guilty when one of my books sit unfinished, and only I can finish it. 

I feel guilty spending time with just my husband—an evening off, out for a drink. 

I feel guilty when I don't make time to go out to eat, just the two of us, my husband and me.

I feel guilty when I make too many Christmas presents for the kids—I know 

they would prefer mostly bought ones.

I feel guilty if I don't make any Christmas presents, because what kind of follow 

through person can I be if I don't set aside time for that?

I feel guilty when I water my garden because why would I choose to grow plants that can't exist all on their own and need me to pump water out of this dear mother planet we live on, so I can see colors and greenery to calm my soul.

I feel guilty when I let plants die and shrivel up into composted soil.

I feel guilty when I mow my lawn, the gas emissions are unnecessary just 

like the wee patch of shorn blades that are supposed to be beautiful.

I feel guilt if my lawn grows too long, like I am a straggling, lazy being 

who can't keep up with my bidding. 

I feel guilty when I feel guilty because gosh darn it I am supposed to

 be enjoying life, not over analyzing my sorry feelings. 

Oh to be human. 

Anyone relate?

                                                                                        ~ Marica

And a million pies later...

This was a good week. A long week, but good in so many ways. Firstly, I felt in tune with the pie truck—and that is a must to feeling good. Sometimes the inside me doesn't align properly with the tasks the world is requiring which certainly causes a lousy battle.  I find that when I feel as if I am playing, I am most at ease. It is a constant wonder in my mind if I am completely loopy, partially loopy, or if most people "play" when they are doing their best work. I hope some of you understand what I mean, because alas, it would be unfortunate to find I am the only one...

Secondly, this week I completed a project so huge and satisfying that my soul doesn't know how to withstand the comfort in having it done. I keep wanting to go back, tweak this, adjust that, yet there is nothing necessary to tweak or adjust. The project is done, at least for this stretch of the road. I am not going to be so thoughtful as to include you all in what the project is, I am not being coy or sassy, it is just that it needs to be kept unrevealed at this time. (Is unrevealed a word? My computer doesn't seem to think so). I will however say it is a book project, so no one will start believing that I built a house from ice blocks or sculpted a goddess in a giant boulder. 

Lastly, I managed to have my children clean the house—just enough—that my "weekend" was not fiddling with dishes, washing floors and scrubbing toilets. I'll admit, I did do all of those things; wash dishes, clean floors and scrub toilets, but they were all minimal versions of what would usually be defined as major cleaning. I am so thankful.

Oh, and on a simple, minor note of satisfaction, I bought a small wood-desk at Goodwill. I thought it was for my daughter's room, but my husband reminded my what a stack of things would gather on it in oh so short a time—and he is right—it will be of so much more use downstairs as a wee work spot for me. Now here I sit, so professional, writing this and feeling quite complete with my forearms resting appropriately as I type. What a lucky trick for me, guiltlessly buying something for someone else, and then reaping the benefit of its luxury.

Well, that just about does it.

All my best to Everyone!

                                                           Cheers ~

                                                                 Marica