Friday, January 30, 2009

Potpourri

I was really tired when I went to bed last night. It was fortunate that I put on a sweater and an extra blanket because the air around me was cool when I woke up. I stayed in bed for a few minutes and tried to make a plan for the day’s activities. As I pondered, I saw a shadow approach on my bedroom door.
My mom came in slowly, saw that I was awake, apologized, and asked me how my day had been. She then told me not to be alarmed that when I went upstairs all the doors would be open: gas had leaked in the garage and she had gotten up at four in the morning and cleaned it all up. It is still winter in Utah—we just got snow two days ago—and so that was why it was cooler in my bedroom. She told me I could close them when I got upstairs and that the smell was probably gone by now.
I lingered in bed a little longer and then sprung out in search for socks to keep me warm in my new colder environment. It was noticeably nippy in the house and as I went upstairs, I realized the scene in front of me was quite different than I had pictured. The two doors at the west side of the house that lead to the snow-covered porch were wide open (okay, this I did expect). However, what I did not expect was for the ceiling fan to be turned on full throttle, making a loud noise and circulating the cold, snowy air. The other surprise was to see 15 candles lit on our kitchen counter. Mom had found all of our candles: the large ivory candle with potpourri in the wax, the stout forest green one used for Halloween jack-o-lanterns, the small designed table candles given as gifts, and even all the tiny luminaria candles that were dropped in brown paper sacks layered with sand to light our driveways for Christmas. All these candles burned their scents and filled the room with a soft holiday smell (well, except for the little luminaria candles, I don’t really know why those were lit).
The entire scene was appreciated by all my senses, well, besides taste:
1. Smell: perfumed flower and spice
2. Hearing: constant rhythm of a ceiling fan
3. Touch: ceiling fan propelling cold winter air on me as I stood in my living room
4. Sight: Open doors, circling ceiling fan, a group of random candles all burning together
It felt like an awkward part in a movie just after a séance when all the doors open up and machinery goes amuck. Except this was in the daytime and I didn’t see any ghost. That is actually a really good thing. I think if I had seen something weird I would have passed out—I can’t handle scary stuff.

*Mel’s note: Potpourri turned out to be very difficult for me to spell. After I figured it out I was curious of its etymology. It is French and literally means rotten pot. I enjoyed that.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Enjoying School Supplies

Today I went to a class with my mom. It was in the middle of the day and most of the people who go to it are retired or work at home. I realized when I got there that I wasn’t the only person who showed up with their mother; in fact, there were at least twelve or more people in attendance that were having an afternoon with their mom. However, out of these twelve or more, I was the only person older than four.
I was going through old binders and notebooks from high school. I threw out most things that I found but I was impressed that at one time in my life I knew all the organs and muscles in my body, how to solve trig problems, and that I could make arguments about character development in the book Of Mice and Men. I’m sure it is still in my mind. I bet if I started a serious study of any of those subjects, these basic principles would come back, good as new. That was a tangent from what I really was impressed by: an old binder. I found a yellow spiral-bound notebook. The first page had notes I had written about cancer and as I flipped through I discovered that only the first four pages had writing on them. However, all those pages and all the blank pages preceding my notes on different diseases had a picture drawn on the upper right hand side. The picture was of a snowboarder who, depending on which page you opened it to, was snowboarding and doing a flip off a jump. If you turned the binder and flipped through the pages really fast, you would discover, as did I, that this was a little cartoon that I could watch. I was entertained and loved my brother Louie just a little bit more.
My other brother, Kelvin, asked me if I annoy him because I like to get a rise out of him. The truth of that is yes and no. Yes I like to get a rise out of him but no because most of the time it is too easy. It doesn’t take much to set him off, especially when he is tired. They are cheap thrills at best. He told me then that I:
1. Was annoying
2. Needed to get some hobbies
3. Needed some friends
While he was correct about these items, his message was discounted because
1. His tone
2. The fact he was laying on the couch and watching reruns of old shows which he would continue doing all afternoon
3. He’s Kelvin
He ended up taking a nap and waking up to be a lot nicer. So nice, in fact, he only made fun of me once or twice that evening.

*Mel’s Note: I give Kelvin a hard time and I write down the dumb stuff he says, but really he is pretty fun and I like hanging out with him

Home Adventures

It is time to start a blog. My days are so boring, I thought I’d share the pain and write about them for other people to read so they can feel good about their current situations in life. I am at home looking for a job. My parents are good enough to let me bum around at home, and I am thankful for their kindness towards me. With time I will find somewhere good to work, but in the meantime, I will get to know my family better while I live at home. I imagine these will be adventures that happen during the day and that I write about in order that I do constructive activities with my time at night. I’m not too worried about what I write because my family will probably never read this. Well, besides my mom. But she’s pretty saintly so she won’t be too embarrassed.