Pink Flamingos and Epic Fails.
Trying to jump back into regularly posting, I thought about joining the Finish the Sentence Friday gang.
That is, till I read the sentence.
When I think Epic Fail, I think . . .
Gosh. That’s kind of personal. Sure I could write about another person’s epic fail (or my perception there of).
A big movie that bombed. A politician who screwed up.
But of course that’s not the point. The point is looking at my life and asking the question, what makes me think Epic Fail?
Well, honestly we could just take a little tour around this room I’ve been trying to claim for my office. As the rest of the house has transformed to a somewhat molting swan, this room has become my dumping ground. My Portrait of Doran Gray clutterfest.
Failure is lurking in every nook and crannie.
This mountain of stuff. Part of this is the last pile of Christmas clutter that hasn’t made it up to the attic. Part Lord only knows. One of the Amazon boxes hasn’t even been opened. It contains a pair of plastic pink flamingos I got for my garden. It doesn’t seem right to subject them to the bleak rain and cold.
Next up a two-fer. A karate statue that needs the top glued back on and a pepper plant I brought inside to spare it a cold, frigid demise from freezing nighttime temps.
Seems I just sentenced it to a slow, painful death.
And then there is this drying basil from my garden.
Notice the lovely blue ribbon.
That will probably still be here till the day they carry me out of here in a wooden crate.
My road bike and its flat back tire. Ugh. Those few beautiful warm days we get in the winter. No bike rides for me.
Yes, when I look back over this room and my life — there certainly were things that seems like failures, big failures at the time.
But time has a way of lighting the path of perspective.
The karate trophy isn’t fixed so fail, but triumph that my youngest — little gamer — found a sport/discipline that he enjoys.
The basil and peppers. Fail. The idea of drying my own herbs is so hip. Too hip for me I guess. Same with keeping a potted pepper alive indoors all winter. But triumph that my gardens, the proper ones outside really do rock. Something I knew nothing about seven years ago.
My bike. Fail: Really should have taken the time to change that blasted inner tube by now. Triumph: I can change bike inner tubes albeit slowly. Something I couldn’t say a few years ago.
Not really much to say about the pile of Christmas clutter other than I just need to attack it. The pink flamingos will go out in my garden. I ordered the silly things because I wanted company for my gnome and my dad had a pink flamingo in his back yard. A total joke for my intimidating-looking, conservative father. But the bird became such a normal fixture out amongst the azaleas, it just made sense. Surely everyone should have a plastic pink flamingo in their garden.
The more I live the more up turns down and wrong becomes right.
Epic Fails?
Maybe not so much.
Thoughts?
