|Lunch knitting project.|
This got me thinking about how thoroughly instant gratification has permeated our lives. At work, the sender of an email expects to hear back from you in a nanosecond and gets their undies in a bunch if it doesn't happen, no matter how unimportant that answer is. Planning ahead takes a backseat to 'don't worry, we can get it at Wal-Mart at 8A on Sunday if we need it.' Forget to take something out of the freezer (say, that WM frozen high-fat, high-sodium family-of-twelve-size pizza)?, nuke it. Most of us (present company - yousguys - excluded) have forgotten how to take basic care of ourselves and provide for our needs with our two little hands. No wonder so many people are angry. Anger is most often fear-based and I would bet that most of those who are angry have gotten themselves to the point where they must rely on others (government) to provide for their basic needs. If that doesn't put the fear of God into you, I don't know what will. It seems that common sense has left the building. I am surrounded every day by people who feel that they are entitled to everything just because they exist.
Coming into or out of the city every day, there is a fellow who plants himself at a rather inconvenient traffic light. He holds a sign that states he is a veteran of the Navy, homeless and would appreciate some help. It is an inconvenient light because there are three lanes of traffic, jam-packed with drivers who are chomping at the bit to rocket off as soon as the light turns green. This fellow used to stand, smoking away, which made me think that - if he would stop smoking, he could save quite a bit of money right there - while at the same time, what business was it of mine that he smoked anyway? I had a few brief conversations with him while I idled at the light and mentioned that his smoking might be putting a crimp in his donations. He smiled and agreed. I didn't see him for a few weeks and then I saw him this morning. Sans cigarette. He smiled when he saw me and shouted - "I quit!" I gave him five bucks.
Ending this string of aimless wanderings, I will leave you with a snapshot of my morning. Frantic knitting until 6 - change to barn clothes and feed the pups and kitties. Out the door to the farm. When I pull up at the barn in the morning, the calves start bawling. It is so loud, you can hear it outside with the doors and windows shut. When I stagger in with the first two pails of milk, the farmer is very happy to see me, as the noise level dims slightly and continues to do so with each double feeding until I have finished feeding Monkey and Tulip, the last of the eight. I have given them all names, which the farmer finds very entertaining: Daisy (my girl), PIA (do you need a translation?), Pixie, Dinkle, Monkey (as in Chunky Monkey), Tulip, Legs, Butthead. I then toddle down the aisle and say hello to Jasmine and sneak her more grain (of which the farmer is quite aware), then out to the car with a quick stop to feed various feral barn cats at the old farmhouse (the farmer insists on putting down rat bait, even though I have pointed out on numerous occasions that it is either bait or barn cats). I refuse to feed them at the barn, because I don't want them tempted by poisoned rodents. Sigh. Then back home to do my own outside chores. Then a quick (sometimes too quick, if the sight of my hair in the office mirror is any indication) transformation into working girl and off I go. It was a little more difficult to leave this morning because the birds were singing and there was a bright spring sun glinting through the trees, giving me the feeling that maybe, just maybe, spring is back for good.