Ipomoea

Horticulture must run in the family. This evening I stopped by my Aunt Sheila's house to share with her and her husband what I'll be doing next year and beyond. When I rolled up, I felt as though I entered a plant paradise. Some moonflowers grew on both sides of the door. As I looked through the glass of the door, I saw all the way out the other side of the house. The amber sunlight was glistening on the water through the windows. Then Aunt Sheila came into view. She was watering plants on a patio. I walked around to the back yard since nobody was inside. I passed by cleome, daylilies, tomatoes, cucumbers, pampas grass, and acidanthera. Tommy was on the pier, bent over fetching water in a bucket. I walked up the stairs to Aunt Sheila. She was happy to see me and came to hug me. I felt like a grown man. We used to always visit Uncle Tommy and Aunt Sheila as kids. They had a house on the lake like we did. I realized that I had never been to their house by myself and I'd never had a real one-on-one conversation with either of them. Naturally, I began by talking about plants. I followed her around while she watered her plants in her middle-Alabama paradise. I spent semesters memorizing lists of plants and identifying them, and I saw many there I'd never seen before. She even had pineapples. We had a pleasant conversation in their living room. I talked to them for the first time about how I became Catholic. That's how poorly my sister and I communicate with our dad's side of the family. They, of course, knew I became Catholic via my dad, but I had never talked to them about it myself. They were supportive, I think. Uncle Tommy liked what I was doing. I left the place before they ate dinner.

Today I was busy. I called a lot of people and got my hair cut.

I've been thinking recently, as usual. I wish I weren't so difficult to talk to. It prevents me from getting to know people. I don't usually become friends with impatient people, because getting to the point where I comfortably talk to someone can take weeks, months, or years. I am fully aware of this aspect of myself. I made a goal recently to combat it. I happen to find awkwardness funny, but most people don't - especially strangers. Sometimes my awkwardness is unintentional, but sometimes I do it on purpose. I'm going to do it purposefully less often. That's my next social skills goal. I had a previous goal of being able to carry on small talk. I'm not great at it, but I can certainly do it better than I used to!

By the way, recently I bought a digital voice recorder so I could take "notes" on it, making it so I don't need to carry around a planner. I have a funny story. Today I was recording a note in my car, when suddenly the car started beeping because I wasn't wearing my seat belt. I got so angry that I started yelling at the car in the most unpleasant voice possible. It was recorded. Of course, I deleted it. No record needs to be kept of such things! I was shocked to hear myself angry.