Catching Idle Butterflies

Descent into burrow

Do you ever look back at your blog entries and think, now why did I do all that? Your views drop, the comments along with them, it's easy to wonder if perhaps something you said made people scatter.

My last few entries highlighted my 'accomplishments,' and I can't help but think I went too far. I fear I sounded braggadocious. I know people who are always bragging up their lives and it does get tiresome, boring even.

If that's indeed the case, my apologies. If not, well, I'm glad I'm just being paranoid.

I'm also coming down from a stressful week. I didn't get any time to myself, my writing; I haven't opened my Bible once, let alone get any devotional time in, and that always makes me grumpy.

My mom showed me her "burrow" the other day. It's in her bedroom where she placed a comfy chair close to her bed along with a television hooked up to the satellite, a small table and desk light to read by. There she has about 15 square feet containing everything she needs, and she doesn't have to move for hours.

The world can seem a very large, overwhelming place, and Mom is not a people person. They exhaust her. But when she can retreat to her burrow, she can relax.

I thought it was a fabulous idea and thought yesterday I could have used one. People don't exhaust me as much as they do her, but I still like time to myself. I got none of that this weekend. We spent all day Saturday with my folks, and Sunday we went to the yearly walleye fish-fry put together by one of Dave's friend's dad. The food was great, and I had fun talking to people, but again, I had little time for relaxation.

On our way home, Dave mentioned Jason (his friend) wanted us to take a fishing trip next weekend up at Devil's Lake. I cringed but said nothing.

"Does that sound like something you want to do?" he asked.

"Right now," I said. "No."

Besides, the older I get, the less tolerance I have for drunk people. And Jason likes to get drunk, Dave along with him. Oh yeah, my idea of fun is driving home a husband who slurs his words and can't walk without needing a wall, couch, or chair to keep him upright.

I've been around drunkenness so much of my life, I get tired of it. I don't understand it, either. Why can't people have a good time sober?