try as I might, this has turned into one of those things I feel vaguely guilty about, so I avoid it. kind of like when I go to write in my journal after a writing drought and realize there are so many things I haven't talked about that are important to me, that I want to have written down, but getting it all down is a little tedious.
I've been sick the last couple of days with a nasty sore throat, some aches and pains, and fatigue. stopped off at target last night and picked up a humidifier, vicks vaporub, and nyquil (which I had never had before). we had to show ID to buy the nyquil, which surprised me a little. we get home and andy's opening the humidifier and I'm opening the nyquil and I say, "do people try to get high off of nyquil??" cause the package said something about parents knowing what teenagers are up to. and he says "yes ... there's alcohol in it." then I was reading the medical warnings bit on the side and say "it can cause liver damage??" and he says "yes ... there's alcohol in it." haha I really don't know a thing about nyquil, except that it makes you sleepy sleepy. but seriously - how many freaking nyquils would you have to take to get high? (the internet tells me only six.) I took them (only 2), I slept pretty soundly until 11, and Andy did too. he's probably trying to fight off whatever it is I have and have surely already given him.
I've been doing a lot of reading lately, which is lovely. I recently finished a book of Scottish short stories that I picked up in, surprise, Scotland. Still working on the Discovery of France. Started and finished the Wisdom of Crowds. Andy's working on my Kazuo Ishiguro book right now, so I'm reading Gilead by Marilynne Robinson that Andy's mom picked up for us at the library event - she's coming to speak there, soon, if not already. It's written as an old, rural pastor's journal, or letter, to his very young son, since the man is likely to die soon from a heart condition. Here are some of the quotes that I've liked, that struck me this afternoon while I read on the couch and let my fingernails dry.
"Now, your mother never talks about herself, really, and she never admits to having felt any sort of grief in her life at all. That's her courage, her pride, and I know you will be respectful of it, and remember at the same time that a very, very great gentleness is called for, a great kindness. Because no one ever has that sort of courage who hasn't needed it."
"Not deciding is really one of the two choices that are available to me, so decision must be allowed its moment, too. That is, as behavior, not deciding to act would be identical with deciding not to act."
"He treats words as if they were actions. He doesn't listen to the meaning of words, the way other people do. He just decides whether they are hostile, and how hostile they are. He decides whether they threaten him or injure him, and he reacts at that level. If he reads chastisement into anything you say, it's as if you had taken a shot at him. As if you had nicked his ear."
"There's a pattern in these Commandments of setting things apart so that their holiness can be perceived. Every day is holy, but the Sabbath is set apart so that the holiness of time can be experienced. Every human being is worthy of honor, but the conscious discipline of honor is learned from this setting apart of the mother and father, who usually labor and are heavy-laden, and may be cranky or stingy or ignorant or over-bearing. Believe me, I know this can be a hard Commandment to keep. But I believe also that the rewards of obedience are great, because at the root of real honor is always the sense of the sacredness of the person who is its object."
next post is about the wedding, probably the first of several. get excited :)
No comments:
Post a Comment