Blair Wins the Knife Bet

It was only a matter of time. I bought my beautiful Wusthof Grand Prix II knife (the chopping knife in photo) 3 weeks ago. LOVE this knife. Glides through tomatoes and vegetables like buttah. I love this knife so much I obey the instructions to hand wash it versus throwing it in a dishwasher.

Which is what I was doing when I inadvertently sliced my right index finger open this morning. Ouchie. I staunched the flow of blood but only by applying the band-aid so tight the tip of finger turned purple. I called my mom (isn't that who we all call when we're hurt?) who suggested I at least let a doctor look at it. 

4 stitches later... I'm back home and moping about the "I told you so" I'm sure is coming from my husband. Dena isn't allowed near sharp items for this very reason. We laughed about buying extra insurance on me when we took the knife home. Ha ha ha. Yeah. Life happens.

My finger is quite numb at the moment, making typing difficult so I'll keep this short. I of course have a TON of work to do today. Will try not to let blood seep onto client papers. Bad for business.

And btw, I am WAY too attached to this blog. As the doctor was sewing the stitches I was mentally kicking myself for not bringing my camera to get some "action shots" to post. 

Happy Earth Day!

A Little Change is Good For You

When Blair came home from work on Friday, I met him at the front door. 

"Hello!" I said, blocking his path into the house.

"Hello," he said in that cautious tone which, hmm, he does seem to use around me quite a bit.

"Would you agree change is good?" I asked. "Kind of gives new verve to life?"

"Oh God," he answered, the fear now evident in his eyes. "What have you done?"

Nothing so bad. I was cleaning the library sitting room on Friday when it struck me, That couch would look a lot better over there. So I moved it. Which meant moving the chair. And the ottoman. And lamp and coffee table. In my excitment, I may have charged into the breakfast area and shoved the table under the window, moved a plant, brought in a rug from the hallway and and moved a cabinet. In short, certain rooms of the house were unrecognizable.

I'd forgotten how much fun it is to rearrange a room. I used to move my furniture around all the time in my bedroom as a kid. Even if the new arrangments aren't better, just having items in a different place kind of shakes up your world and lets some fresh air into life.

At least, that's my take. And, as it turns out, Blair's as well. He's fine with the rearrangment. I doubt we'll keep it this way for too long (truthfully, the library probably looked better the other way) but again--something different every now and again is fun. 

He's just lucky I'm not strong enough by myself to move the bed. Who knows what he may have come home to? 

Cheers,

Dena

Along with that happiness campaign...

Two YouTube videos designed to make your day.

Susan Boyle. Chances are you've already had this forwarded to you dozens of times but, if not, take the 7 minutes to watch this "who woulda thunk it" knock 'em dead performance. And try not to tear up. I dare you.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Sound of Music | Central Station Antwerp (Belgium). I LOVE THIS. Make sure you watch it through to the end. You'll grin through the entire thing. And wish you'd of been there. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EYAUazLI9k&feature=related

Quit Fighting Life

I've made a decision to be happy. It's not a huge leap. As a rule, I'm a pretty upbeat-every-cloud-has-a-silver-lining-better-luck-tomorrow-it's-all-for-a-reason type gal. But I've been observing a tendency I have lately to, for lack of a better word, fight with life.

It's usually over small things. I need to run errands, cook dinner, sort through a mess of e-mails and suddenly I'm sighing and feeling drained and wishing the stupid task would just be over with so I can get on with what's REALLY important in life (whatever that may be). All this wishing the mundane details of life away is wasteful. It's the whole "putting off being happy until life is perfect" syndrome. They are always always always going to be petty details and boring tasks to deal with--why not approach them with a positive attitude?

It's been a mere 48-hours on my "Look at me, I am joy" campaign and it's going well. Instead of feeling harried and like I'm wasting time, I'm working on gratitude. So the dishwasher needs to be emptied. Yea--I have a dishwasher! I need to photocopy clips to send to an editor--I'll pet the cat while the copies are printing (versus my normal mode of standing over the printer snarling, "Run out of ink and I will END you.")

I did a quick journal entry the other day and ran through my favorite exercise of describing my perfect day. When I read it back I was astonished to realize that I pretty much described my days as they are now. Only, I wasn't having that "life is so perfect" feeling. So where's the disconnect? Future living. I'm so concerned over what I should be doing or what still needs to be done that I'm fighting a constant mental battle. Hurry, hurry, hurry seems to be the refrain running through my mind. And you know what? It's making me tired. 

So I'm giving it a go of realizing why each day is a perfect day. Lucky for me, I live with Blair, the god of eternal optimism who rolls out of bed each day at 4:30 AM proclaiming "It's going to be a great day!" Where my usual inclination is to smack him, maybe if I work hard I can join him. 

Just not at 4:30 AM. I'll be joyous more around 6.

Cheers,

Dena