Gratitude Sunday: Adventures In Fantasy Land

Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.

Sunday Haiku
Sky darkens, lightens,
moody late autumn weather,
winter is coming.

Sunday Musings
Did you ever wonder if you missed your calling? That maybe you are in the wrong profession, or even the wrong life? Does life seem surreal, especially now with the current political climate? Do you indulge in what-ifs, or alternative time line brain meanderings?

I am really good at seeing what is wrong with stuff, whether it is restaurant food, grammar errors, design flaws in automobiles, furniture, clothing, architecture, garden design, city planning, or the structure of society. Some pretty big stuff there much of which I have no control over, but I am frank about my own flaws as well; I get to live with them every day. I’m late to the game now, no do-overs, when you age out (unless you’ve enjoyed an affluent lifestyle all your life), you pay your taxes all your life, then you age out not so gracefully before you die. Here’s a concept: no one works all their life wanting to end up in poverty.

Thinking about do-overs, I wonder what it would have been like had I been properly advised and guided, or had a base of financial security to operate from (it makes a difference). Of course, back in my day women were not even encouraged to take math or sciences. Women’s science was Home Economics, or the delicate orchestration of running a home, i.e., the equivalent of indentured labor. Women were not encouraged into careers, but were expected to take on the role of wife and mother as soon as possible after high school. College was merely an avenue for late bloomers to find husbands via the MRS degree.

My special skill of finding fault led to seeing many men as not good enough. Not that they bothered to ask me out in the first place, but the few who were interested were not employed, nor educated, nor even planning for the future. Many of them saw me as a working woman who would provide support for them, not even considering an equal proposition of taking care of each other. I admit I wasn’t especially skilled at choosing a date or a mate.

I didn’t even have the kind of job or career that led to being able to take care of anyone other than myself. My high school guidance counselor recommended an all female college for me, and when it was decided the expense of college was not attainable, I was shuffled off into a vocational program. Going to cosmetology school at least gave me an employable skill, and I spent 20 years in the hairdressing industry, making less than minimum wage, and eventually supporting (not well) a disabled hubster and myself on my pathetic income.

I might have been a restaurant critic. I have an odd palate (picky), can’t drink alcohol (so many dishes seem to be created to compliment the wine it is intended to be served with), and experience a few food allergies (mushrooms mostly, but cheeses with mold, too). Those weaknesses make it hard to have the full gastronomical experience. I wouldn’t want to bring any sort of unfairness to the chef with these conditions.

I might have been a book critic. I would have had plenty of words, but somebody somewhere along the line has to give the critic the credit of the value of those words, meaning hiring and publishing the critic, and ensuring that critic’s words carries purchasing value for book vendors. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough at that kind of work, but it didn’t happen for me.

I’ve pointed out flaws to architects and construction workers as the building was going up, and was ignored until the problem in the finished building caused damage to the building or the employees. I’ve stated my concerns about city planning to city councils only to find the words falling on the deaf ears of pre-made decisions, and years later my concerns indeed became an issue.

I see injustices everywhere I turn. In my youth, (remember those days I was advised to go to an all woman’s college and college was deemed unaffordable) had I gone to college I might have chosen to study law. I might have retained the knowledge then; I can’t sustain the study now, my memory is brilliantly failing.

I might have been a judge. I like the idea of making the decision, rather than arguing either side of the case. I know, I know. I’m Libra, right? Totally unbalanced, searching for balance, how does one come to a conclusion and thereby a decision? I’ve read some judges’ decisions and I’m fascinated how my “logic” or sense of justice either parallels or vastly differs, but I was not trained in the law as it is written in law books. I use instinct and gut, after pursuing as much fact as I can find. I’m not always right. No one ever is.

Then there’s the job I actually do a bit of: writing and editing. I’m a self-proclaimed expert holding only a Bachelor’s degree in English Literature and Creative Writing. I have an eye for grammar detail and I’m picky, picky, picky. I have less than a handful of jobs to my credit, and over a 20 year period have earned just about 500 dollars, so let’s do the math, maybe 500 hours of work divided by 500 dollars divided by 20 years, simplified, equals oops, got lost in my own math. Too infinitesimal to count. That was fun. Math is fun, but not when it equals nothing. Thing is, I enjoy editing and writing. At this age I may as well do the work I enjoy, since I’ve had such great luck (not) finding other employment after being forced to leave my last job.

Adventures in job fantasy land is fun to contemplate, and who knows if I could have made a lucrative career of any of my critical areas of interest. Moot now. Like many people I am fighting many barriers, in my case generational poverty and the lack of social skills learned; social standards and mores of the 1950s, 60s, 70s; being a woman, fat, and a proud possessor of resting bitch face; not to mention being opinionated, critical, and efficiency oriented; and at this late date I am physically unable. I’m pretty scary to employers and everybody else, unless you take the time to talk with me and hear my heart.

While I may indulge in what-ifs, I am pragmatic enough to know my life is what it is. No re-dos or do overs. We only move forward, we don’t repeat the past. We can repeat the same or similar mistakes, but I, for one, am pretty good at learning my lessons and moving on. Like I told the hubster the other day when he was fretting, we can only move forward in faith that we can provide for ourselves regardless of barriers. We move forward, day by day, hoping to garner as many little victories as possible. Even if we are in the wrong life, it’s the life we have the privilege of living right now.

Color Watch – colorful attractions in my neighborhoods this week – Looking for green in all the small spaces. On the base of a hand made birdhouse. On a favorite red rock. In the brown corners of fences. In the crotches of gray tree branches.

Current View – {These are only my opinions about movies and books, but don’t let me stop you from trying these reviewed items yourself; your opinion may differ.} Passengers (2016, rated PG – 13), with Chris Pratt (Guardians of the Galaxy), a sci-fi movie taking place on board a starship en-route to another planet. One of the hibernation pods opens 90 years early; chaos ensues; challenges are presented and resolved. Somewhat predictable plot, but rather satisfying altogether. * The Matador (2005, rated R) with Pierce Brosnan and Greg Kinnear. Brosnan plays an assassin/con man who is losing his skills, and coerces innocent Kinnear into assisting him. Chaos ensues. Comedy in a sort of sick and twisted way. Meh. * Re-watched the Netflix series The OA (2016, not rated, though I’d call it PG – 13). The story fascinates me; this is my third viewing. Renewed for another season but no hint when it will be out. They left such a cliffhanger at the end of season one, it can’t be soon enough for me. * Sleuth (1973, rated PG), the original with Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine. Much more intricate and elaborate in both the settings and the plot than the 2007 re-make with Michael Caine and Jude Law.

Currently ReadingThe Castle Cross the Magnet Carter (2017, fiction) by Kia Corthron. Have moved forward to 1959-60 and the middle of the race issue. I’m sensitive to many issues like this, as I don’t understand why some people choose to treat other people poorly, no reason is justifiable. Ms Corthron writes a pertinent, vivid, timely re-telling of the same sad abuse story, but in a newly engaging way. * The Tao of Pooh (1982, philosophy), by Benjamin Hoff, a re-read, and great reminder that sometimes simple is best.


Quote of the Week
– “To exist is to survive unfair choices.” spoken by the character Khatun in the Netflix series The OA

This week I have been grateful for:

  • Hearing the little birds singing up a storm between rain showers.
  • Hearing the rain showers moving through like ocean waves.
  • Figuring out how to hobble around with a broken toe, even able to change my bed linen, and take a shower. Just took extra time.
  • The adjustable bed I inherited from my MIL making it easier to elevate my foot.
  • Ibuprofen and ice packs. And microwave heat packs.
  • My indulgences: massive use of hot running water, clean bedding as often as possible, electricity so I can use my computer and watch my TV and cook in my electrically heated house.
  • Thinking ahead enough to insist on paying for roadside service in my car insurance despite the extra expense. Saved me again this week.
  • Eating leftovers.
  • Not throwing away much from Thanksgiving. I don’t like wasting food.
  • Feeling the weather change into late autumn. A little colder, a lot wetter.
  • Water.

Hoping you have a lovely week.

Namaste. Peace. Blessings.

Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch

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2 Responses to Gratitude Sunday: Adventures In Fantasy Land

  1. piratesorka says:

    Math! You had to mention Math! Bah Humbug! Yeah you were right, women were NOT encouraged to have BIG Ambitions of the Career kind…unless you were preparing to become a Domestic or unpaid Nanny Aka Wife and Mother. I remember my mother and grandmother preaching to me about going to college My grandmother wanted me to become a nurse, in her day women became nurses after 12-18 months of study. My mother didn’t care what I did as long as it would support me and my children for fear I could wind up like her and be either undersupported as my stepdad did or left widowed like my father did. All I could dream of was too become a teacher which lasted until the teaching field died out, then I decided to jump over to Speech Pathologist only to give THAT up when my department head told me I needed two things 1. Get braces to help correct my occasional lazy S/F caused by a large tongue in a small mouth and then 2. Take a class in Statistics. I actually enrolled in Statistics,. ME! a failure of General Math! So in my last year at PSU I went down in flames and did not graduate. It was too humiliating to go any further…..
    Eventually I discovered that my real gift was the gift of being a natural teacher/lecturer, in fact, I found out that when I am confident in a topic I become a FEARLESS speaker and that is what brought me to where I am today ( omitting some of the more sordid parts of this saga). Its never paid much but enough for me to get along in life. Now my car is dead,dead and yes indeed it is firmly DEAD. Stay tuned for more adventures of car purchasing on little funds later.

    Like

    • sassy kas says:

      Math just for you, dearie! Notice how I lost it? Came to 5 cents a year and I just couldn’t figure out an hourly wage from that so I had to make fun of myself…
      And now we are twinnies for a while, hopefully my dead car is fixable. Time will tell. Hugz!

      Like

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