So today's wedding was completely sober and sunny and lovely and I even took four little girls down to the beach and we all had a swim in the waves. Not much in common with the wedding a week ago - at night, people stumbling around the garden in the mud, sloppy and drunk and smoking. Entirely different occasions.
Today, I told the groom that part of my gift to him was not drinking his bar dry. We laughed and agreed that I would've drunk a good $100 or so worth of over the counter drinks if I was still hustling from table to bar and back again which was my usual routine at weddings. Sweaty-browed, chatting over-familiar with the bar staff as if we were all in some conspiracy to get as much drunk in my gullet as possible.
I had the time to actually listen to the people I was sitting with - a lovely woman who shared her dream of going into the food business - and there was no me ducking off to refill my glass or making out I had to go somewhere when all I really wanted was another and another full glass of wine. Quite amazing really to just be able to talk 'normally' without being half shot and thinking there was maybe something going on or imagining scenarios in my head.
Sad really that my hazy drunk state would permit me to indulge in these wild real-time fantasies that someone was sort of looking at me in a certain way and that it was not just a look but a secretive signal that she was interested but that somehow, we could never actually realize our desire, and talking would have to do for now.
Whispering and laughing in that drunken flirty way where you think you are on the same page but, in hindsight, you were simply drunk and delusional and not far away from getting into some sort of strife with her husband. Or my wife. Just utter careless risky business really. All a grand delusion.
So being sober and subtle and just cool is actually quite lovely.
But that is not where it ends...
Last weeks wedding was a rollercoaster.
For starters, my wife was in the bridal party, so she left town for the preparations.
Then, my daughters went for babysitting for the weekend.
I was home, alone, unsupervised, and - well, tired and vulnerable and before I knew it I was standing in front of the cellar, running my finger along all the bottles of wine and scotch and vodka and basically every fucking alcoholic beverage you can think of. All neatly lined up in boxes and rows and just sitting there in the midnight light. And me alone and vulnerable and tired and feeling a bit like no one would ever know if I had a bottle or three.
Back to School
A full time Digital Media course for the next six months is sure to test my comfort zone. Going back to school certainly puts me out there and exposes me to a whole new world of experience.
At once it is a challenge to have mortgage repayments and meet the daily distractions of the modern family but also keep on top of the course work. So things are buzzing along at a frenetic rate around here, and keeping mindful and maintaining a positive grateful presence is even more crucial.
This weekend, just to add another layer of fuzz, features a wedding where my wife is one of the bridal party. So her exercise and preparations have reached a denouemont and she is leaving tonight for the big event. Today I have to get a haircut (it is longish and foppish to go with my student-look) and make sure I make the three hour drive to the little mountain village by lunchtime tomorrow for the ceremony. A big Italian wedding in the mountains - should be something impressive.
And being sober is liberating. Just that - i have time to study, have time to spend with the girls, have time to work on myself - like tonight, a house to myself and what would usually have happened would be a marathon drinking session, starting around eleven am.
Tonight I will rest and prepare, like all evenings are for these days. One time my wife had a conference and was away for five nights and I drank liters of wine and she came home to a blubbering wreck, my blood tests showed my liver was failing. I used to do that to myself - like put myself through a gruelling drinking expedition as though I was on some alcohol endurance test. It is not what life is about anymore. Stay sober and be good to yourself...
At once it is a challenge to have mortgage repayments and meet the daily distractions of the modern family but also keep on top of the course work. So things are buzzing along at a frenetic rate around here, and keeping mindful and maintaining a positive grateful presence is even more crucial.
This weekend, just to add another layer of fuzz, features a wedding where my wife is one of the bridal party. So her exercise and preparations have reached a denouemont and she is leaving tonight for the big event. Today I have to get a haircut (it is longish and foppish to go with my student-look) and make sure I make the three hour drive to the little mountain village by lunchtime tomorrow for the ceremony. A big Italian wedding in the mountains - should be something impressive.
And being sober is liberating. Just that - i have time to study, have time to spend with the girls, have time to work on myself - like tonight, a house to myself and what would usually have happened would be a marathon drinking session, starting around eleven am.
Tonight I will rest and prepare, like all evenings are for these days. One time my wife had a conference and was away for five nights and I drank liters of wine and she came home to a blubbering wreck, my blood tests showed my liver was failing. I used to do that to myself - like put myself through a gruelling drinking expedition as though I was on some alcohol endurance test. It is not what life is about anymore. Stay sober and be good to yourself...
All the Unborn Chickens
Sad news during the week - four one night and then, two days later, another three, leaving just one peep peeping chicken blinking at me from her perch. The fox is back.
Mercifully, I took her down to a friend's house and she is settling in just fine. Back here, things are quiet down the backyard and the weeds are slowly bending up towards the light.
Reminds me of one of my favorite songs, where there is the lament for all the unborn chickens from all those millions of eggs from the factory farms. As if the eggs would ever be born, or ever even be fertilized...
So it's back to the drawing board for a new and improved fox proof chicken house. I haven't made things any easier, I have let the chickens run free range everyday and although they have last nearly a year, all it takes is an errant fox or do and they are slaughtered.
Just being a bit sentimental, but it does really get to me when the birds are totally free and scavenging over such a beautiful, wide, area for so long and then they are simply disappeared completely one day. My heart would race as I ran through the undergrowth, and every other time they would be there, just scratching around, under some thicket of bushes.
The neighbor was upset too. They promise they will get on board and help fix the place up when the husband gets back from Afghanistan.
So there's still plenty to be grateful for. We have 18 eggs left from the girls and will eat them with gratitude knowing the next batch will be laid soon, but not just yet. Funny to be eating the thing you are grateful for, but what other way to show our appreciation?
Mercifully, I took her down to a friend's house and she is settling in just fine. Back here, things are quiet down the backyard and the weeds are slowly bending up towards the light.
Reminds me of one of my favorite songs, where there is the lament for all the unborn chickens from all those millions of eggs from the factory farms. As if the eggs would ever be born, or ever even be fertilized...
So it's back to the drawing board for a new and improved fox proof chicken house. I haven't made things any easier, I have let the chickens run free range everyday and although they have last nearly a year, all it takes is an errant fox or do and they are slaughtered.
Just being a bit sentimental, but it does really get to me when the birds are totally free and scavenging over such a beautiful, wide, area for so long and then they are simply disappeared completely one day. My heart would race as I ran through the undergrowth, and every other time they would be there, just scratching around, under some thicket of bushes.
The neighbor was upset too. They promise they will get on board and help fix the place up when the husband gets back from Afghanistan.
So there's still plenty to be grateful for. We have 18 eggs left from the girls and will eat them with gratitude knowing the next batch will be laid soon, but not just yet. Funny to be eating the thing you are grateful for, but what other way to show our appreciation?
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