I hate pouring my heart out. I really really hate it. It's enough to make me break out in uncontrollable fidgeting. I mean, I know it's good for me, and don't misunderstand, dear readers, I'm not upset that I shared it or anything....
It's more that it was there to be shared, if that makes any sense at all. Plus, I never really know how to explain what I'm feeling in a way that I think really gets the point across.
Such is my life, I guess.
Suffice to say, while God has given me great eloquence when waxing poetic over food, art, or music, and great verbosity when ranting about things that drive me insane, my ability to convey my thoughts and how they tie into my emotions is sadly lacking.
Anyway, dear readers, that's not what we're here to talk about! So, yesterday, before leaving for work, I couldn't find a skein of blue yarn that I've been using to knit baby mittens and such for a friend of mine who is pregnant. After searching five minutes for that skein that "I just had last night!" I accepted defeat, grabbed the other skein of yarn she had given me (this one a pastel green) and took off for work.
Once at work, I cast on, and begin to knit away at a pair of little booties. Normally I can finish a pair in one night at work, but I wasn't really feeling it last night. Anyway, I logged off of here and started to pack up, and wouldn't you know, dear readers, that skein of blue yarn was sitting in the bottom of my bag behind the hundreds of knitting patterns I have tucked in my book bag! Suffice to say I felt silly.
I also had an unwanted guest of the 8-legged variety in my bedroom last night. I wish I could say for certain that he was dead, but he fell behind the dresser, so....I may have been a little uneasy falling asleep last night.
I've been going through Saint Blogs Parish hoping to find more blogs that I like, that can also offer a bit of help (whether they know it or not) to little ole me. A lot of times, the biggest help is knowing that other people are enjoying, and excited about, being part of the Catholic church. I'm just trying to find my way, and it can get a little discouraging sometimes.
I'm hoping to hear back from one of the many parishes I called, but I'll admit that I'm not very optimistic. It's frustrating on many levels. If I haven't heard back from anyone by Thursday, I'll try calling again.
I kind of feel like it shouldn't be so hard to find someone. I mean, I know we're in the South, and there isn't really a big Catholic presence, but still! I've been on the Diocese's website, there are quite a few parishes in my area! Surely someone can help me? I keep reminding myself that patience is a virtue, and that I'm dealing with people, who have lives of their own, but it's still a little frustrating.
Is it really almost August? Three days until the eighth month. I'm getting all knotted up over Christmas and that's still a little over four months away!.....That doesn't make me feel any better! My Dad will be going to Germany for a month for a job. I asked him to bring me back pictures of the Cathedral in Regensburg, the Dom St. Peter. Surprisingly, I don't have any pictures of it, really, despite us living twenty minutes from it for three years. Not to mention the fact that I have pictures of just about every other church in the area we were in.
I think my favorite pictures are from Ettal Abbey near Garmisch. It was amazing. If I ever get the chance to go back to Europe, I'd like to see it again. Dad, of course, liked the beer best, but I was more into the architecture and history. I'll have to dig out those photos. The sky was the most amazing blue that day, and it framed the monastery beautifully.
He's promised he'll do his best to remember. I know it's not really his thing though. I'm the art lover, he's more into 20th century warfare history (WWI and WWII).
Meanwhile, my mother gets closer and closer to having the baby. She's having her at home, which makes me glad I don't live there anymore. Not that I don't want to be supportive or anything, but....Blogger + (loved one + pain) = x-x. If it was anyone else, I could probably do it just fine, but it's my mom.....I'd be plastered to the wall, hyperventilating while trying to stumble through a decade or two of the rosary as a means to try and calm down. All, by the way, with no success.
Best we just skip that.
Ultimately, time just seems to pass by to quickly. Mom and I went school shopping for the boys before lunch yesterday, and it was a bit of a mind trip to realize that H, the oldest of the two boys, is 5'10" (and still growing, the little shit!). He used to be so tiny!!! He's all gangly and his voice is getting deeper and I feel old. I'll be 22 this August! But H is almost 15 and P is 10, and they're both getting bigger and I'm not taking it very well, I admit.
Ah well, that's life, right?
I will see you later, gentle readers! I have errands to run (all the fun, right?)
Your's always,
Tara
