What’s your jar full of today?

what’s your jar full of today?I was reminded today of something my grandmother taught me as a young woman. When talking about what I wanted to be when I grew up she always used a phrase “keep your jar full.” My grandmother didn’t speak much English and I only understood enough French to get her sweater and close the door so I never questioned it. I figured it was something that didn’t translate well to English.

One day when I was much older I asked my mother what it meant. I couldn’t believe that I’d missed it so long ago but it bears repeating if you’ve never heard this story.

My mother took a big canning jar and put hard boiled eggs in it and said, “Is the jar full?” I said yes.

Then she took some dried peas and poured it in the jar. Then she asked again if I thought the jar was full and I said yes.

Then she poured the leftover coffee into the jar until it was full to the brim and asked if i thought it was full now. I nodded yes.

“So what’s the point of the jar,” I asked

This is my grandmother’s story. The jar represents my life. The eggs represent what’s important in my life. A healthy, loving, sexual relationship, my children and my extended family. The dried peas represent everything in my life that I’m passionate about. My hobbies, my friends, my job and my community. The coffee is all the other things that fill up our lives. If you fill the jar with only coffee and dried beans there’s no way to fit in the eggs. No room for a sexy relationship and that’s what’s most important to nearly everyone.

The moral of the story is to put your relationship first and then everything in your life will fit neatly around it making your life happy and complete. I wish I’d known the story while my grandmother was still alive. She must have been a wise old broad.


LIKE THIS?

Some days…

You really appreciate your health. Unfortunately when you appreciate it most is when you don’t feel so well. That’s where I am today. I had my gall bladder out two weeks ago and I got a staph infection in one of the wounds. When they tell you to wash your hands every 30 seconds, you should listen. Make everyone wash their hands before touching you too.

I’m on the mend but just barely. Sorry I haven’t posted since I went to the hospital.

I’m back !

But I still have my gall bladder, unfortunately. I won’t bore you with all the details but as I was prepped for surgery the doctor came in and said, “sorry, there’s a junior doctor’s strike and we’re not doing any elective surgery at all. You’ll have to go home and go on the waiting list there.” It’s socialized medicine and the most needy come first. I don’t have a problem with that at all. I just hate pissing away a week’s time doing absolutely nothing. They knew the strike was coming, they could have sent me home last week.

So here I am. Eating nothing but grass and twigs to keep the gallstones from clogging the pipes.

Drat.

Hospitals

I’ve not posted for a few days because I’ve been in the hospital with a gallstone attack. Make that two. The first trip went fine and I was ok after some pain killers and tests and after 12 hours I was sent home to await surgery. Next night at 2am, same thing – back to hospital and then another hospital and more tests and then more tests and geez, I hate hospitals. I haven’t been in a hospital other than for a bit of day surgery since my kids were born and that was in the last century.

It’s a teaching hospital so every man, woman or dog who came by wanted to poke and prod and go “hmmm” without saying a fricken thing. Finally I said, “I’m going to stand in front of the door and not let you out unless one of you tells me what’s going on.” So he said I could go home.

I have no desire to go again.

However, I was in a semi-private room (which sucked) and my roommate was a delightfully chatty woman who’d just had a breast reduction from a 38 G down to a small C. She was ecstatic and wanted to show her new boobs to everyone who’d have a look. Her boyfriend came in with a friend and she was fine with the friend having a look too. They oohed and ahhhed and I wanted to vomit. Ok, I wanted to vomit because I was sick but even if I hadn’t been sick I might have vomited too.

All I wanted was for her to shut her cheery face up and leave the curtain closed so I could moan in private.

Next Page »