industry and peevishness

So, I am all tuckered out. Mostly from caring for my relentlessly active kids, finishing a mountain of laundry, housecleaning, sewing, and making three family-sized servings of beef enchiladas this evening (my enchiladas are Kind Of A Big Deal – the recipe is here if you think you are awesome enough to make them). Oh, and I forgot to mention I started out my day meeting up with Abbi and our four children for breakfast at the Bayview. As Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman said, “Big Mistake!” When we got the tab I think someone in the waitstaff had written in the margins next to Nels’ breakfast: “Get the fuck out.” I couldn’t tell for sure, though.

Tonight I am having to acknowledge I am getting really irritated with some of the people in my periphery. I was at a gathering recently where (I shit you not, because I timed it) for well over fifteen minutes the entire conversation was dominated by discussions on items people bought, the items’ merits, and the incredible savings the purchases entailed. People, I would like to tell you that today’s Wife & Mother has more on her mind than what she’s been programmed to care about (commerce); I guess not. In this discussion the price tags and utalitarian nature varied, but the subject was endless, boring, and vacuous: better living through purchase power. I actually went off on my own to play with the children on purpose I was so disenchanted.

In juxtaposition to this I have been given the Almighty Scepter of Finance in my household (Ralph passed it to me a few weeks ago) and have actually been enjoying the power. Most of the enjoyment has not been in the choice frivolous purchases (new shoes for Ralph, a sewing machine for Sophie) but rather creating a dorky spreadsheet (I used to get paid to do that!) with color coding and stuff. Going back to my bitch in last paragraph: I guess, really, I understand what it’s like to think about what to buy and to peruse catalogs and to lust after material goods. God knows I have done the same in the past. I guess I just want have catty or amusing conversation about our lives, not stoke the fires of consumer-lust.

And in other news: Sophie’s toe is looking great – so great I almost feel silly how upsetting the whole incident was for me. We didn’t go to our Farm workshare today because I am still interested in keeping her dressing clean and that place is a commune of filth and disease and nary a clean linen to dry hands with. Tomorrow: checkup with the doctor.

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