This was going to be a post about Dissenting Opinions
Posted on August 2nd, 2015
Which is a book I am reading and highly recommend, even though no, it’s not about the law. Smith really was a brilliant thinker and writer and you will, no matter where you come from politically, be left thinking important things. Considering you can pick up a copy for $4 via Amazon (including shipping)…please do.
It might have been a post about the fact I have a crazy idea to learn all the skills involved in a pentathlon before I’m 50, because that seems like a good number and some of those skills are on my bucket list, anyway. Not COMPETE, mind you (unless there is a 50+ category), but just learn them (or in the case of the few I know, relearn or hone). Judging by the poker faces of people I’ve told, I’m guessing there isn’t a whole lot of faith in my ability to do this in seven+ years, but why dream little when you can dream big? If I fail, I’ll still know how to run, swim, fence, ride, and shoot.
It might have been a post about how I’m getting rid of things in the hope we will move soon. I woke up this morning for an idea of a 700-800 sq ft tiny house and/or loft involving lots of things on casters. I woke up and sketched it.
It might have been a post about how frustrating it is to be subjected to the surface understanding of the early republic in educational materials (I will pick a lesson apart for you soon, because it’s somewhat entertaining).
But it’s a post about things are very hard, things that I thought wouldn’t be very hard at this stage of my life suddenly are, and how I can go from thinking life is going okay to not in a heartbeat. That just as it seems like everything is great for kH, it’s not–again.
Just like my Puritan forebears, with their journals chronicling their daily successes and failures, I keep records of my mood, my family’s mood, the symptoms associated with migraines, the work my daughter does. They aren’t happy records, aside from pH’s academic progress.
But what it’s really about is this: how does one sell art and antiques without consigning them to the horrid Portland area antique market? I have the odd fortune of being broke and yet owning a few valuable objects, even if most are hidden in closets. (Note to thieves: not easily movable.)