If you read my recent posts, you'd know that Dear Hubby and Son #1 are at Boy Scout Camp two states away. I've always had trouble sleeping when I'm home "alone." I think it stems from when I was a latch-key kid and my parents would go out and stay out late. I could never fall asleep until I saw their car's headlights as they pulled into the driveway and I knew they were safely at home (my bedroom was in the front of the house).
Several years ago when Dear Hubby was a police office, he worked the midnight shift. I didn't sleep well then either until I knew he was safely at home. Which makes me wonder? Why the heck not? What am I afraid of? Am I afraid of the Boogeyman getting me (I did watch an awful lot of horror movies as a teen)? If I'm not afraid for my own personal safety, perhaps I'm worried about my loved ones who are "out there." Personally, I think it's a little of both.
As for the boogeyman, I'm not really alone. I'm here with Son #2 (who turned 9 yesterday) and Son #3 (age 4). Anyone tries breaking in here, they'll no doubt be scared off by the noxious odors and loud belching noises that only 9- and 4-year old boys can make. Remember the scene from the movie "Home Alone" where Kevin used his toys to booby trap his home because of the big bad burglars? Yeah, that's pretty much what my house looks like right now...
Last night I caught up on my reading, made some jewelry (*more on this in a minute). When I started to get tired, I tucked the sheets and blankets in on *both* sides of the bed (Dear Hubby hates his side tucked in), added about 4 more fluffy pillows and slept rather well. We'll see how it goes tonight.
Other thoughts for the day:
Happy Father's Day to Dear Hubby, F-I-L (father-in-law) and any other Dads who might stumble upon this blog. My own dad passed away in 1991 (I was an adult). He and I had several rocky years that I think we were just on the verge of outgrowing. To over simplify, I apparently inherited his temper but not his sense of humor. Since his death, I haven't felt a profound sense of loss. Not sure why and will probably never know unless I'm willing to shell out big bucks for therapy. I do know this: while I may not miss him as a father, I do miss him for the grandfather he would've been to my kids. They would've had a blast together. He had the opportunity to meet my sister's kids (they lived in a different state), but he died several years before my children were born). To my kids, he's just a name - Grandpa Jim. The only one in either Dear Hubby's or my family that served in the military so he's the resident veteran. Someone to think about on Memorial Day and Veteran's Day. He joined the Army at age 17 with parental consent during the Korean War.
Beaded Jewelry. A fellow blogger, Flip Flop Mamma (check out the link on my blog page, if you haven't already), asked what kind of jewelry I make. First of all, I'm notorious for starting projects and never finishing. My New Year's Resolution this year was to find a hobby and stick with it. So far, I've been at this one for a little over 6 months. My former neighbor taught me how to make the beaded jewelry using the wire on which to string beads. I taught myself to make the embellished chain jewelry (i.e. little dangles). I'll try attaching a couple of older photos because Dear Hubby has my digital camera with him at camp Blogger isn't letting me do it right now.). What do I do with this jewelry, you're wondering? Not a damn thing. I'd be one heck of an accessorized girl if I'd ever wear any of it, but I don't. I'd love to sell a few pieces - not to get rich, but to cover the costs of supplies (so I can buy and make more). Perhaps this is a very practical way of nurturing my creative side. It's a lot easier to store a few dozen pieces of jewelry in my 1163 sf house than it is to store large canvas painting, you know what I mean?