Pigs in the Garden, Here's Hoping

It seems self-conscious and maybe slightly objectionable to meta-blog, to blog about blogging. Every once in a while, though, I pause to consider how blogging has blessed me. One such blessing is the emergence of patterns. To recognize patterns is so useful that I almost look on the first 40 years of my life as utter chaos, just a ball of yarn tangled beyond all remediation. Maybe it is better to say that was my time of wandering in the desert:

And the LORD's anger was kindled against Israel, and he made them wander in the wilderness forty years, until all the generation, that had done evil in the sight of the LORD, was consumed.

I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel happy again. I feel stuck, then suddenly I'm rolling. The water is muddy, then the water clears. It gets muddy again, it clears again. Why it has taken all of my adult life thus far to see this beautiful predictability is a mystery to me, but

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

(Boy howdy is all I can say about that.)

Just now, we are experiencing a bit of stuckage:

• You know that I applied for the part-time teaching job at a community college. I'm still waiting to hear what's happening there. I probably won't hear anything until close to the fall semester.
• You know that my wine class ended last week. Today I applied for the sommelier diploma program. That starts in October.
• You know that I ordered that French language software. The original order got messed up somehow, so I had to re-order it; it should arrive any day now.
• You know that sometimes I am meeting people and going out and sometimes I am not. Last week, it seemed that I was, but this week, it seems that I am not.

You can see how I would find patterns very comforting, that I can step back from the brink (I'm not saying I always do, I'm just saying I can) and remind myself that this is where we find ourselves in this moment, but who knows what will barrel in the door with the next moment.

Yesterday, the doorbell rang. It was the mail carrier delivering my new iPod (d0n't ask): happiness supreme! Today I started listening to Coffee Break French: bonjour! Who knows, tomorrow may bring a circus parade. Or at least pigs in the garden.

P.S. New music always helps. This, too.

P.P.S. Also, one might consider the judicious application of Moscato d'Asti. If one be fond of the sweet and the sparkling.