Wholehearted Avoidance

There are dishes in my sink at this moment. They're making fun of me. They taunt me with the need to get them done. I don't like them. At least, not when they're dirty. When they're clean they tend to be much nicer.

There's laundry in my basket, waiting to be put away. If I got them done there might be actual socks to put on in the morning. Pretty white socks. Not the Christmas ones with the hole in the toe. Or the St. Patrick's Day green set with the black band along the top that makes my impossibly white legs look even more glaringly white.

There's a bed in my room that hasn't been made. The sheets are actually inviting me to climb on in and spend some quality time being unconscious. Just for a little while. Temptress.

There are leaves around my rose bushes. Last fall a pipe burst and flooded the street, bringing with it leaves and mud and twigs that all nestled happily around my roses. I didn't have the desire nor the energy to get them taken care of last fall. Apparently I still don't, though I've made a little bit of progress by purchasing some new gardening gloves. They're still sitting in a bag.

There's a story that needs to be worked on. It's for a Relief Society activity I'm doing in a few weeks. I have the basics put down, but filling it is far too taxing on my brain. My brain is too delicate these days. Maybe it needs a nap. What was I saying about my bed?

There are e-mails to write. To darling people whom I absolutely love and adore. But again, brain energy required. And my brain is screaming at me to stop writing on this blog. How can I possibly put together witty letters to entertain the masses? Or the few? Or even just one?

There is a window screen to fix. It kinda, sorta came apart yesterday when I walked out of the house and realized the jacket I grabbed was not the jacket I needed. The jacket I grabbed belonged to my son. The jacket I needed had a certain pocket that held a certain set of keys. Keys that would get me back into the locked house. Keys that would make the car go so I could get my kids to school. So Mr. B and I headed around the house quickly praying I'd been neglectful with at least one window - and I had. Happily for me Mr. B is still small and spry enough to fit through said window without injury and let me back in. To find the jacket. With the keys.

Yep. I am living a life of wholehearted avoidance this morning. I just don't wanna. Well, maybe the nap thing I wanna, but everything else will have to wait until the enormity of the situation at last drives me to at last make a little dent in the to-do list. The dishes MIGHT get done, and the socks may ACTUALLY find a home in my drawer. We'll just have to wait and see.

Book Review: The Hunger Games Trilogy

Seven words I typically dread: You have GOT to read this book!!! For the most part the only one who really seems to know what I like is my mom. That's right, my sweet mama. I also have this odd habit of not wanting to read what's really popular at the time. Well, except when the Harry Potter books came out. I was all over that magic train.

The last time I listened to those words I got sucked into the world of Twilight. To be honest, I didn't care for the books that much. I couldn't stand Bella, I hated Jacob. I'm married to a man I think of as my Edward. Don't even get me started on the vampire genre. Let's just say, it's not my thing.

Fast forward to a few months ago when all the talk was of a trio of books about some big game where kids have to kill each other. Uh, no thank you. So I pushed it off. And off. And off. Then I did something weird and bought the books. Maybe my hubby would like to read them. He did. The next thing I know my husband is among the ranks of individuals telling me I HAVE to read these books. Suddenly there's a movie coming out and I am informed I will be taking him.

Monday evening, at long last, as I'd just finished reading one book and was on the prowl for another to sink my teeth into, my eyes settled on 'The Hunger Games'. I sighed, picked it up, and barely 24 hours later finished the trilogy. It is now Friday night and I still can't get the books out of my head.

Let me start off by saying this is not a story about kids killing each other. I can hardly wrap my head around everything these books are about, and cannot do them justice without giving up important details. I can tell you what you will find if you choose to read; we see the effects of oppression, hypocrisy, love, hate, jealousy, forgiveness, a need for change, to run away or stand and fight, being weak, being strong, standing alone or together, trust, deceit, acceptance, rejection, fear, and in keeping with today's obsession with reality TV - what limits must be drawn for the entertainment of the masses.

So far as book reviews go this is definitely lame, but I do that on purpose. I don't want to sit here and give away details of the trilogy. I want you to experience them for yourself, as I did. I don't want to tell you what lessons you are supposed to glean from the pages, I want to see you discover your own lessons. I don't want to make you see the characters, the society, nor the complicated relationships as I perceive them, but would much rather allow you the opportunity to figure out what they mean to you personally.

If you want to see what the books are about you can read the back of each book or find some other review that will go into details. If you want to KNOW what the books are about, pick them up and read. I promise they will leave you with a lot to think about. I highly recommend this trilogy.

P.S. I will be taking my hubby to see the movie, but it'll have to wait until the crowds die down a little. SIGH!