The Mind of Anne

Archive for November, 2013

November 11th, 2013 Going Feral

Nice Husband Bill was out of town for a whole week on his annual excursion. I just got him back yesterday. Although I miss him when he’s away, I look forward to doing a boatload of things I ordinarily just can’t get to. I always make an exhaustive list of things TO DO and figure if I miss a few, it’s a good list to continue on when Nice Husband Bill is back.


I make my big TO DO lists whether he’s going away for a day or a week. Sometimes I get big projects done like refinishing all the kitchen cabinets or smaller things like taking the 15 minutes to put the goo on my headlights so they get nice and clear instead of the yellow tinge I’ve looked at for a year.

Then there are times (like this one) where I make the list and then go a bit feral. The list had all sorts of great things on it:

  • eBay madness
  • Winterize the car
  • Getting the garden ready for the winter
  • Steam cleaning all the rugs
  • Latching all the windows
  • And on and on.

You get the idea.

Then there were promises I made to myself to exercise every day – both yoga AND Zumba. Jumpstart that diet.

I did NONE of that.

What I did do:

  • I ate frozen potpies or ordered Chinese for dinner so I wouldn’t mess up the kitchen and have to subsequently clean it.
  • I showered but wore what I call “less restrictive clothing” (read: a half step above PJs) and didn’t style my hair unless I was going out.
  • Even though it was chilly, I turned the heat up and didn’t make a single fire in the wood stove.
  • A lot of days I didn’t leave the house and just hung out with the dogs and the cat.

Yet I was pretty productive even in my feral state, just on things I felt like doing rather than what was on the list.

Most notably:

  • I caught up on two very time-intensive classes on – video lectures, reading, essays and forum participation.
  • I joined a book club and read this month’s book in its entirety – Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.
  • I downloaded a bunch of books, which prompted me to clean up and reorganize my Kindle.
  • I finished my Dr. Who marathon catch-up leftover from a previous feral period. I am ready for the 50th Anniversary Special on November 23 and the subsequent season.
  • I went into New York for three dates at the American Ballet Theatre and one at the New York Philharmonic.
  • I was all over the Internet (lots of new ideas for future lists) and Facebook (Hopefully I was entertaining, supportive, thought-provoking . . .).
  • I listened to music I hadn’t listened to in years – Lou Reed and stuff that fell out of my rotation for some unknown reason – plus music I hadn’t heard before (many downloads followed).
  • I found my piano music – no more excuses for ignoring the piano keyboard that sits no more than two feet from my elbow. (I didn’t actual play but I’m ready to.)
  • I saved my iPhone from its attempt at learning to swim.

And the most important of all: I set up this blog.

I feel rejuvenated after my week of being feral. And now that Nice Husband Bill is back and life is normal again, it may be time to start working on that list. Maybe.

November 5th, 2013 The Mind of Anne – from the beginning

Kafue National Park, Zambia

Kafue National Park, Zambia

I know the mind of Anne is at times quirky and the rules of logic often do not apply. Yet I think it’s more of an attitude than a character flaw (or maybe a little bit of both.) I believe my self-awareness started during an incident in Kindergarten.

I went to Kindergarten in Bayonne, NJ and since it was a city public school in the 1960s, we did a lot of coloring. We were given a tin orange juice can filled with broken pieces of crayons and a piece of newsprint paper and off we went to create art. On that fateful day I did my thing and then went off to do whatever we did for the rest of the day. (I was five. I can’t remember what that was.)

Some time passed and my teacher, Mrs. Bonnet, called me up to her desk. She had a very concerned look on her face as she showed me a crayon drawing. There were houses and trees and birds and dogs but up in the sky was a solid black circle. Mrs. Bonnet was clearly agitated as she said, “Anne Marie, why did you color the sun black?” What followed next was a litany of questions trying to get to the bottom of my malady. Was I was having trouble at home? No. What did I eat for breakfast that morning? Cereal. And on and on. (Damn that pop psychobabble.)

I had to think of something to say or I was going to be there forever or so my five-year-old self thought. Frankly, I didn’t even remember drawing the black sun, let alone why. Out of my mouth came, “I didn’t have any yellow crayons.” I could see the relief on her face as she realized I might not be the psychopath she feared I was. But then she said the most disturbing thing, so disturbing that it haunts me all these decades later – “Next time come to me and I’ll give you more crayons so you can draw it RIGHT.”

OMG. I thought my head was going to explode. I didn’t say a word and just went back to my seat. How dare she presume to have the corner market on what was correct when it came to what I wanted to draw. Who did she think she was that she felt comfortable assuming what was going on in my head? Or that she had a right to judge me according to her narrow criteria.

From that moment forward, I chose my own path. My opinions and actions haven’t always been popular but they’ve always been mine. I kind of like the quirkiness.