Learned behaviors

Something that I have learned about myself is that whenever I am in a situation where I start to feel really angry and stingy, it usually means that it's time for me to put on my big-girl pants and turn around and do generous things. Often, a first step is thinking past the point of who to blame for what, because in a lot of cases the only result of figuring out how to properly attribute blame, is denial and hard feelings. Not good for anyone. And I'd rather spend mental energy elsewhere, and I can make a conscious decision to do so.

All of which is to say, this morning, I went back to the old house and went around the old bedroom with a can of paint to touch up every.single.scuff mark and filled-in hole and chipped paint spot. I can vividly remember moving into a house where there was animal grease along the lower edges of the doors, with ancient, yellowed caulk around the sink (hey, I even photographed the replacement process, you might recall), dirty windows and windowsills, broken glass and beer bottles littering the grass around the front and back porches, and lots of holes and nails in the walls.

Today, however, was a good time to practice the "campfire" rule. I imagine the next occupants will be oblivious to many, if not all, of these efforts, but that's not the point. The point is that we can all make the world a better place by acting with care. And to me, it remains most important to bring myself back to a place where I act with care when my initial instinct is to do the opposite.

Goodbye, Villa Maria house. I still won't miss you, but I hope your next occupants will find their lives somewhat better for their change in location anyway. This region, and the world at large, needs as much of that as it can possibly get, to judge by recent events.

Other fiddly items lost in the move

I had stuck a spare combination lock (in an unopened package) in the toolbox, too, I'm remembering. Probably won't replace it.

The telescoping pen that lived on my keychain fell off, at some point.

I have no idea where I stuck my grapefruit spoon, which I generally use every single day to eat yogurt at lunch. Must replace, pronto!

Between that, and the toolbox, I am going to have to go shopping. Deep, melodramatic sigh.

Now, if I could simply go over to Hardwick's, I would be a happy camper. But this is middle America, where Mall-Wart and bLowe's and the Home Despot and Target have driven the moms and pops completely out of business. I could order things on the internet, but that invariably means excess packaging. So instead, I will whine to you about it all, and hope that some day I will live somewhere that hasn't been gutted by corporate America.