Only work which is the product of inner compulsion can have spiritual meaning. ~ Walter Gropius
Deep thought for a post about nothing. I really have nothing to say today, but I feel the need to write. Therefore, I have masked my unexplained urge with a quote that makes this compulsion seem like more than merely a whim. I'm not sure what's with me today. I woke up early and felt like I should go for a walk or something. Instead I folded the wash that was in the drier from last night and put it either away or in spots for others to put away (I am trying to train the children). Then I folded Hubby's charter boat shirts. They have occupied space in the dining room for weeks. He bought storage boxes with the intention of getting them out of the dining room and even gave me a date for their departure. They are now folded by size and will be boxed shortly. Where will the boxes live? I'm not sure of their new address, but I know they are being evicted from the dining room.
It's shaping up to be another beach day. Another day where I throw caution to the wind and ignore the daily warnings of melanoma that are perpetually spewed forth on tv and purposefully venture out into the cancer-inflicting rays between the bewitching hours of 10 and 4. I slather on the sun lotion and bask in the glory of the sun watching the children romp and play in the water. Staying in the house between 10 and 4 while living at the beach is just impossible. Doesn't that promote a sedentary lifestyle anyway? How can I provide opportunities for physical activity while caged up in the house all day? Son tries to get his physical exercise in my living room using the furniture as a trampoline, but since I am not independently wealthy and able to buy new furniture as often as he could tear through it, I frown upon this form of activity. We typically do not actually get our feet into the sand until after 1 and stay until at least 4 (yesterday it was after 5). We are cautious, mind you, but I secretly enjoy it when my tan lines become more distinct and my freckles darken. No, I do not get a ravishing tan. My fair skin will not ever rival the Ban de Soleil or Hawaiian Tropic girls, but seeing the contrast between the skin that sees the light of day and the skin that remains covered by my bathing suit is, for me, a traditional sign of summer. Dermatologists around the world will shudder when I publish this one.
I think I have worked through my pressing need to write. All in all the post didn't turn out so bad. I ended up giving a commentary on sun bathing. Sweet.
2 comments:
nothing at all wrong with a post about nothing. it's your blog. you can write what you want to! meanwhile, i am extremely jealous of your time ont he beach, cancer risks notwithstanding. the hippie and i--we will see how many different beaches we can hit this summer. so far, we are up to 3, with as many as 3 more to go...
Hell, my blog is always about nothing. It is kind of like Seinfeld, a show about nothing. I wish I could be at the beach perfecting my tan line. I know the skin cancer thing is real and scarry but summer isn't summer without that nice brown tan line.
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