Friday night I went to my bro-ham’s house and spent some time watching my nephew and his friends for Halloween times. They seemed perfectly contented to be in the house, horsing around. They did head out trick or treating eventually but there wasn’t much urgency around it. It made me feel old and decrepit because all I could think about was how in my day (uttering the words “in my day” automatically gets you an AARP card) there was nothing more that my friends and I wanted to do than get out of the house and run amok around the neighborhood. I mean, we LIVED for it. When I was teensy, my dad would take me around from house to house to house. When I was a tween and teen, we just ran around in pods of pals, not even really trick or treating as much as just roaming the streets and yards, groups meeting up and parting and meeting up with other groups. I remember getting chased by a group of friends across a vacant lot that had grown squishy patches of grass that we called the Guacamole Patch, just running our asses off in costume, for no reason at all except to laugh and be giddy. I remember this other time that we ended up on a side street and some kids who had cars parked them all in a circle with their headlights on and their radios playing and we all had a dance party in the middle of the light beams. I am not even trying to start a “them there days were better days” argument. My nephew and his friends were having a hell of a time just maxing and relaxing at his house too, so that’s cool. It just struck me how different my young Halloweens looked, and how ragtag and rowdy it seems. All of my young relatives seem positively genteel compared to the scruffians we were.
Saturday we hung out with Delium for most of the day which is always good because that dude makes me bust a gut. Have a friend who makes you laugh until you have feelings of barfness? If you don’t, try to get one. Later that evening my friend H took me out for birthday dinner (eff birthday month, apparently it is now birthday season) at a fancy restaurant and then for drinkies afterward and the conversating was flowing and plentiful. Friends who will listen to your dumb jibber jabber and treat it like it is a goddamn Ted Talk are also a delightful thing.
Sunday (after some steadfast, dedicated sleeping we did with that extra hour of nighttime. I mean WOO WEE our sleeping was almost pornographic in its hardcoreness) was chore day, correspondence day, home improvement day. We built a hand rail for our front yard steps and put that in (and by we I mean mostly he but I got in there a little and made two supportive trips to the hardware store so that counts for something) because now that it’s dark around the clock I would love it if I didn’t die on my own front stairs.
I had signed up to help a friend who recently had some serious health stuff going on by taking her family dinner on Sunday night- a bunch of us are rotating the days. I bought her a delicious pre-made meal that she could heat up. It was from a really nice place and had good natural ingredients (just saying, I didn’t buy her no Hungry Man frozen dinner or anything janky) but there was a part of me that felt like I should have cooked up something myself, because the effort to do that seems more loving? Or because buying something seems like phoning it in? I do not think of myself as a person who does a lot of unnecessary judging of myself but I had a little twinge this time. I had to remind myself that the judgey self-talk just makes the situation about me at a time when it so isn’t about me. I got something my friend needed and I objectively knew she would find it helpful and kind. Sometimes you have to tell yourself to shut up, is basically the lesson I re-learned. I may still act dumb sometimes but at least I know when to tell myself to shut it a little more often, so that’s progress.
That’s my weekend roundup! I hope you are having a gorgeous day. Later, Mr. and Ms. Potaters.