I had a Sunday.

I had a leisurely Sunday at home (where I'm house sitting) yesterday.
I mowed the lawn. I can't remember when I last mowed a lawn--as a renter, it's never been my task. 
It felt like such a Sunday thing to do.

Turns out there's just a bit of a trick to mowing the lawn---I gouged  a chunk out of the grassy hill...

Though the thrift store is closed on Sundays (rather unusual in this city when some (big box) stores are open 24/7), "Sunday" doesn't signify much to me anymore. 

When I was growing up, weekends were more set apart than they are now. 
My father wasn't much for yard- or house-work. He spent Sundays reading three newspapers, front to back--New York Times and the two local ones--the Milwaukee Journal and, ... The Capital Times, I think was the name? from our city, Madison, Wisconsin. 

Reading for hours was a normal thing, growing up.
My father had escaped from his violent family into newspapers and books. Not surprising that he grew up to be a political science professor. 

[Trigger warning: suicide]


I can't imagine my mother without something to read and paper and pen nearby.

She didn't leave a suicide note, but --just as fitting--we found the current New Yorker on her bedside table--(I've written about this before)--open to the illustrated article, 
 "Looking at War: Photography’s view of devastation and death," by Susan Sontag, December 9, 2002.

I recently read that people write different kinds of suicide notes--people whose attempts aren't lethal tend to write long, reflective letters.
People who make sure they die (like my mother, who shot herself) often leave no notes, or they write short, practical ones, such as,
"The car keys are on the kitchen table."

I did not set out to write about that! Just musing on Sundays, which meant household chores and reading--and maybe visiting.

I had an out-of-town visitor yesterday! I'm so happy the front porch of this house is big enough to shelter friends at a physical distance.
Lisa and I worked at the art college (I was in the library, she was in administration). She was in town from New York City, where she moved  twenty-some years ago. 
She describes herself as "a knitting designer and opera chanteuse".
(She crocheted red hearts for the girlettes a while ago.)

When Lisa left yesterday, I asked her if she'd like a girlette to go.
She would!

I set out three who were eager for adventure, so they could decide with Lisa who would fit into her life.

I want to find homes for many of the girlettes. (I noticed that more come to me when I'm stressed, and currently some twenty live with me.)
The longer they stay with me, however, the harder it is for me to say good-bye. The ones who are happy and eager to move on are the ones who arrived most recently, who I don't know as well. 
 Even so, I felt a tug when all three elected to go with Lisa.

Good-bye, Bubble Pop, Kiku, and Liz! You'll love the bright lights, big city!

I did feel sad, but when I went back inside and looked at the girlettes on the table, they remain many. 
More than I can give full attention to. So all is well.

And now I'm going to have a Monday.

I'm off to work in a little bit. A busy week ahead, as we're supposed to reopen this Saturday. Not sure if that'll really come together. We're a skeleton crew, and there's a ton to do.
I'll do what I can, but I'm not going to wreck myself--which would be easy to do. 

May your Monday go well! ––XO Fresca
 _____________________

I always put this on posts when I mention suicide:

For more info on suicide prevention or help if you are struggling:

http://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/# 
or
Call 1-800-273-8255

"The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals."
Outside of the United States, please visit the International Association for Suicide Prevention for a database of international resources.