white noise

The weather here today, despite a prediction of rain, has been phenomenal. The hubby and I went to the car show in downtown Christiansburg and checked out all the tricked out hot rods, street rods, and all the nifty gas guzzlers in between. We listened to our friend, Casey, pickin’ some bluegrass tunes with a group of his friends. Jon indulged in a BBQ sandwich (he almost never eats pork) and I snagged me a few bites, too. Mmm. It actually made me nostalgic for “Olancha Daze” (hometown party; lots of beer, some dancing, greased pig contest, etc.) and the deep pit turkeys we used to do.

It would have been a fantastic day for riding and I’m sooo glad we spent the time outside.

I spent the morning working on journals. Most of my materials for this last batch have been recycled bits. I recently found an assortment of stationary at the thrift shop and wanted to use it up. I have a lot of fun working with wall paper, too, and I need to figure out more creative ways to utilize all the cereal boxes I keep, because — yanno — Jon is like the champion cereal eater of all time. We could build a house out of his empties. Hmmm, this idea has possibilities.

I can’t figure out what to do about my upcoming 40th birthday, except possibly pine for that super coolie-wazoo new TV to go with that super coolie-wazoo Playstation 3 which my super huggable, snuggable hubby is going to magically procure for me because HEY, we’ve got nothing better to do with that $2500 hanging around, right? Right. Why? Because the developers of Shadow of the Colossus are currently working on a new game for the PS3 and I just know there will [MUST] be ponies involved. Naturally, if there are ponies, we must have them. (My husband is somewhere in the background thinking, yanno, by now, a REAL horse might be a heck of a lot cheaper.)

If only. But … well, 40 seems significant. I’m hoping it means I’m middle-aged, because at the moment, 80 seems like a fine time to check out. Another 40 years? Sure, why not? Maybe with enough Omega 3 fatty acids I’ll even remember most of it. I look forward to the challenge of embracing what is to come while not dwelling too much on what used to be. If there is a heaven, though, I think I will be seventeen — barefoot, horseback, and carefree.