Slumgullion

Mama made a soup she called Slumgullion. I only discovered just now that it is a real soup! I was eating it when I was five. Basically a vegetable soup with everything but the sink tossed in. Mama's was, at least. It was wonderful as I recall. I make a similar soup on occasion. I think this post is rather like her soup but not as good, I'm afraid.

As I begin this blog I'm sitting on my front porch. It is 8:38 p.m. in S. Indian and the crescent moon is at about 45 degrees in the western sky. There is a nice breeze and aside from the sounds of the highway about three block south of me, it is nice out here. The screen of my laptop is the brightest thing around. Well, the street light is probably second but only because it is farther away. I actually had to turn on my keyboard light because I can't see it in the glare of the screen.

Oddly enough, recently Google Chrome came up with an extension that lets me set the screen to a gray scale and this is immensely helpful when blogging in the dark! No glare in your eyes and now, the brightest light actually is the street light. Have I said today, "I love all things Google"?

I've been trying very hard to make myself blog and it hasn't worked well. I checked and in April I think I did only one post. May is only slightly better. That's insane for me. I'm usually good for nearly one a day. I can only say that things have been happening... or not.


The weekend is looming and I'm very glad. We are going to put down a walkway in the front yard and I have two flower beds to get prepared. Becca's dad brought a tiller over and broke the ground up for me and I will go tomorrow night and get gravel, paving stones, and whatever else I need to do this. I'm rather excited about a front walk.

I have a 4 day weekend. Memorial Day is Monday and our office is closed and I took Tuesday off. I begged more or less. I said, "Please, Marques!" He said, "I don't think it will be a problem." I think I'm ahead of everyone else in processing files. I've been going non-stop and I have a little room because I've been driven.


I've been experiencing absolute exhaustion since I got home from Florida. If you watched the video you know we had a really good time. I got sunburned. I enjoyed my family. I was, however, glad to get back to my house. There is no bed like your own.

My only explanation for the exhaustion is work. There is no time for a break these days. It is non-stop data processing and if you stop, the penalty is you get behind double the time you stop. I was gone a week. Still, I managed to get all the back log processed but the penalty is a seriously fried brain and an inability to find enough rest. I'm seriously tired to the point of depression. Yes, I am sleeping. Hard. I am considering asking my doctor to order a sleep study. I need to know if I'm actually resting properly.

Not only am I way behind on blogging, but I haven't written a thing in any area. I've thought about it. But that's it. That doesn't count. I have been looking into a writing workshop. I need something to get me going and it looked interesting. But I'm so tired I'm a bit cautious about jumping into anything right now.

I have been reading more than usual. It is a pursuit that doesn't require much energy. If I fall asleep while I'm doing it I can wake up and pick up where I left off without ever moving.

We need rain here desperately. The ground was so hard when David began to dig for the walkway he had to wet it down. The soil here is loamy and wonderful farmland but when wet, it is heavy. That is why John came and brought the tiller over. Now we have a nicely plowed area we will scoop out and level on Saturday and then, lay gravel and paving stones... I so hope. I'll take photos. I've planned a flower bed along the front and one side of the porch. On the opposite is a patio and a flower bush so I won't do one there. No idea what I'll plant aside from some marigolds and "princess feathers". No I don't know their proper name.

And I want so badly to write. I hate the brain drain that hits me when I'm this tired. Blogging seems to be about the only thing I can do. And not even good blogs at that.

I had a dream last night about some dark haired man. I don't know who he was but I spent a long time talking to him. I dreamed I woke up next to him only to wake up and find I was alone. I was very depressed. I kept trying to figure out if he was Jerry or someone else. It bothered me. And saddened me. How does one ever learn to be alone after 35 years of together? It will be 4 years next January. I do not feel any closer to adjusting than I did then. I was just a child of 17 and Jerry was all the life I knew. The current life seems rather boring and hollow.