Curtains, Blinds and Cantalope Guts for Brains

We've been remodeling for about 5 years now if you count the house we were in before this one. I have learned a lot but continue to marvel at all it teaches me of philosophy.

There is a terrible glare on the television from the wonderful natural light coming in from our beautiful new windows. We need to finish making the wall (drywall, texture and paint) before we can put up curtains or blinds. First things first, priorities and all that whatnot. A dearly beloved friend in Michigan refers to her brains as lace curtains at times, needing shaken to get the cobwebs out. It paints a much prettier picture than my view of my brains as cantaloupe guts. Lace curtains filter just enough that you can still see in or out and still have a tad bit of privacy too. I like that about lace curtains. Blinds can be made to do the same thing with a twist of a wand style handle, however, they seem more obtrusive to me than lace curtains. Blinds provide more of a presence-of a here I am & I can give you an all or nothing view type attitude about them.

In life, sometimes we see things through blinds, or lace curtains and sometimes we see them head on in the blinding light or overwhelming darkness. Which am I? My cantaloupe-guts-brain can't figure out which is best though I lean toward the lace curtains. Just a bit of security but not enough to stand in your way. Which are you? Which will you choose? Is it better to be a filter of things in your mind set and how you choose to perceive things or better to be cement-for-brains? I can be a bit of both, I'm mostly a "shades of gray" person, not a black and white person, however there are some issues in which that attribute of mine vacillates.

And in the background I hear the Gund singing bear, chanting the "Don't worry be happy" song. Maybe the parrot will learn it too. It now keeps repeating in the back of my head too. It reminds me of when my now 17 yr old son was a toddler. The babysitter was a wonderful woman and had an exceptionally cute little girl. She would sing, "Don't worry, be happy, toys are in the toy box" over and over and play ring around the rosies to the tune. Her mom asked her if she knew who I was, she said, "Zacky's mom, Mrs. Holy Cow!" I said, "Good grief" and "Holy Cow" apparently more than I realized at the time. This darling little girl back then made me wish, if only life were as simple as having no worries because there were toys in the toy box. Now, roughly 16 years later, I'm reminded of that philosophy again. This time through a plush, singing bear. I'm glad I don't have curtains or blinds to filter anything out right now. I like the view, even when there is a glare and reflection or two. Sometimes, that can be the best part.

Be blessed Dear Readers!