Today I've been running around accomplishing things for people who are not me.
I rehung old light fixtures, including an improbably-designed chandelier, that Mom had replaced when she moved into her condo. Time to put them back up as she prepares to move to a rambler she can hopefully stay in for a number of years despite whatever health issues come.
Then I sent out the mass aid and zoom link for church tomorrow, and drove down to my Bishop's with donated items I'd picked up a couple of hours north earlier this week.
I did give myself the treat of stopping by a well-known bead store for some additions to the stole I've been beading since before my ordination - it's my social justice prayers wrapped up together, as other communities' needs have grown into my Indigenized Prayers Stole (if curious, it's a public photo album called that on my fb at Mir Plemmons). Today I got the cowrie shells I was advised to use by one of the culture-keepers I MOST respect, for the prayers and spirit-holding of the women of the African Diaspora, and if I get the ok, beads made of black lava from Hawai'i for the Pacific Islanders.
I became cranky against the wiring, not the people I was working with (and I did something wrong twice so it's notable Mom didn't get cranky with *me* while helping hold a chandelier I miswired twice in my disbelief of what it really DID need!)
I became a lot more cranky against some of the drivers I encountered FAR too closely this afternoon. Who knew the interstate was THE place for a number of two-car grudge match races? I got buzzed by a small built-for-speed Japanese style motorcycle zipping up the line not the lane, improbably piloted by an aggressive person in a white bunny hat. I got buzzed by its racing opponent seconds later from the other side, using a comparably inadequate space. But both were topped by the candy apple red zippy car that was zipping in obvious disregard for the ladder nearly twice as long as it, strapped to it with rope (and a pillow) that were part of my horrified mental snapshot as it wove between us. I assume the driver forgot to calculate that into the maneuvering plan.
I think the real massah and meribah level of complaining and testing going on that I'm exposed to isn't anything in my daily life. It's the worry hammering at the edge of my life, the 378 anti-Trans laws in state legislatures around the country. It's the people who somehow read the same books I do, claim to be literal about it, and then blame on people who've done no harm the fact that their sect and idols are losing power in a nation increasingly pluralistic. But I try to stay too busy doing real things here to lose myself in that.
Hey, I think I'm done for the night. Hope this writing will submit correctly tonight. Last night's didn't...
— FriarMir
I rehung old light fixtures, including an improbably-designed chandelier, that Mom had replaced when she moved into her condo. Time to put them back up as she prepares to move to a rambler she can hopefully stay in for a number of years despite whatever health issues come.
Then I sent out the mass aid and zoom link for church tomorrow, and drove down to my Bishop's with donated items I'd picked up a couple of hours north earlier this week.
I did give myself the treat of stopping by a well-known bead store for some additions to the stole I've been beading since before my ordination - it's my social justice prayers wrapped up together, as other communities' needs have grown into my Indigenized Prayers Stole (if curious, it's a public photo album called that on my fb at Mir Plemmons). Today I got the cowrie shells I was advised to use by one of the culture-keepers I MOST respect, for the prayers and spirit-holding of the women of the African Diaspora, and if I get the ok, beads made of black lava from Hawai'i for the Pacific Islanders.
I became cranky against the wiring, not the people I was working with (and I did something wrong twice so it's notable Mom didn't get cranky with *me* while helping hold a chandelier I miswired twice in my disbelief of what it really DID need!)
I became a lot more cranky against some of the drivers I encountered FAR too closely this afternoon. Who knew the interstate was THE place for a number of two-car grudge match races? I got buzzed by a small built-for-speed Japanese style motorcycle zipping up the line not the lane, improbably piloted by an aggressive person in a white bunny hat. I got buzzed by its racing opponent seconds later from the other side, using a comparably inadequate space. But both were topped by the candy apple red zippy car that was zipping in obvious disregard for the ladder nearly twice as long as it, strapped to it with rope (and a pillow) that were part of my horrified mental snapshot as it wove between us. I assume the driver forgot to calculate that into the maneuvering plan.
I think the real massah and meribah level of complaining and testing going on that I'm exposed to isn't anything in my daily life. It's the worry hammering at the edge of my life, the 378 anti-Trans laws in state legislatures around the country. It's the people who somehow read the same books I do, claim to be literal about it, and then blame on people who've done no harm the fact that their sect and idols are losing power in a nation increasingly pluralistic. But I try to stay too busy doing real things here to lose myself in that.
Hey, I think I'm done for the night. Hope this writing will submit correctly tonight. Last night's didn't...
— FriarMir
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