Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Love with inflexible standards

It has been a busy month. I notice it has been the same with others who are among my favorite sites. For one thing, life keeps changing, and sometimes we would rather live it than write about it. And when so much is going on, and I am noticing so much, it is hard to focus on a single topic. I decided a long time ago not to journal, per se, in my blog. So it has been difficult to write.

And I seem to be in a period of life where I feel hugely, but seldom strongly in opposition or in anger. Is this a natural process of aging? or where I am going in maturity and spirituality? I hope both. That will make aging a more pleasant process, I think.

I was surprised on Sunday to have my family tell me I am anal. How can that be? I'm sloppy, have to work at organizing. Like to work hard in spurts, then loll around reading books and maybe eating sandwiches because I'm too lazy to cook. But when I cook, and increasingly I do again, I mostly like to start from scratch. Today I will make a white sauce for a chicken pot pie, for instance, instead of using canned soup. Which I sometimes do. But this time I want to flavor the white sauce with sage and poultry seasoning for just the right taste... just the right....hmmm. Anal is inflexible, isn't it? Yes, I can be particular. But I don't wear makeup. I have wash and go hair. I buy a few pair of good shoes, then wear them for years.

When my sons popped the A-word, with much laughter, I appealed to my oldest granddaughter. She smiled sweetly and demurely looked down. She might be agreeing, or choosing not to be involved, but still. And then I looked at my youngest granddaughter, who is carefree and often mussed. Sooner or later, when I come in the door, she knows I am going to say, "Brush your hair." It is very fine, thick and beautiful, and tangles easily. Hopefully that will be something she will remember about me someday and smile. Currently, she rolls her eyes. But she does it. Her father once said I told him to tie his shoes more often than I told him I loved him. But he still knows I love him. Maybe I'm anal about that, too. Can anal be another word for steadfast?

Huh. A peek at how others see me, and an unexpected picture. Maybe I really WAS a good bureaucrat.