Back by Popular Demand: the Trebuchet

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I set these rules long ago: things that have worked their way into that space between skin and soul where they rub painfully, things which frustrate, things which hurt, things which make you want to scream all of that pain and annoyance into the sky to be blown away by the wind. All of that you put into the trebuchet. Then comes the healing. Then comes the point where you list all of the wonderful things you see in life, things which let in light. 

At some point I will open up comments for this. I'm working up to that point. :)

To fling:

- Dirty snow. It's just so gross-looking. Ewan asked if the snow was getting old because it was gray. 

- The people who cannot for the life of them say "excuse me" when wanting to pass you so they stand there like boobs and stare. I'm not a mind reader. Do you want by? Do you want to stand there and look at the crackers with me? I DON'T KNOW. TELL ME.

- Distractions. Miscommunications. Ill intentions. Not seeing the forest for the trees. The best can fall victim and when they do, the when and susceptibility, is what I want to fling. 

- Black licorice. The Black Plague never went away, it just turned into black licorice. 

- My dependance on coffee. It makes me feel like I have sludge in my veins when the effect finally dissipates. 

- Having to work as much as I do to eke out a living. (And I'm damn proud of having worked hard as hard as I can to help put a nice roof over the heads of my children, feed and clothe them, and I will never feel guilty about taking comfort in that small success.)

- Using emoticons to force feelings that I don't feel. No, I meant what I said; I am NOT going to put a WINKY EMOTICON there to diminish that. 

- Winter. The ground is cold, hard, and lifeless.

Not to fling:

- My boys. Ewan wakes me up most mornings by sticking his round little face mere inches from mine and whispering: "It's goooood morning time!" I used to not be a morning person but that alarm makes me love the world in the morning. Liam will be curled up under his blankets with a book, just as I was his age. 

- Chris. I think he feels bad that I have to work when he knows that if the political and economic climate were different, I might not have to, so he makes up for it by pitching in where he can. He made me rye bread the other day. I ate half the loaf with dill dip. 

- The way all the boys in my house sound exactly the same when they snore. 

- My friends, my mostly apolitical, wonderful friends who don't care what I think, for whom I voted, or anything else. They are at times an oasis, much like my non-apolitical friends are another sort of oasis. 

- All the people who have emailed. I stopped checking statistics here and have no idea how many people visit, but I know that I got about a hundred emails from people who said the most amazing, wonderful, supportive things after my last post. I honestly didn't know whether or not you were still out there and you were and well, here I am now also. Knowing that such people were still there, people who accept you as a whole and separate the parts out on their own gave me encouragement. I did still write privately.  

- Prayer. Knowing that I can give my yoke to someone greater than I who can bear it. Whenever joy eludes me I pray. 

Your turn. If you fling anything email me at mamalogues at yahoo dot com and I will link it here.

Also flinging:

- Colleen has loaded hers up
- The lovely LeAnn, over at One with Books, loaded hers up as well

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