The Fluffbucket Diaries

My Padres are now 14-17. So much for baseball bringing me joy.

Working in the home office on 4 hours of sleep. But there will be midday Padres baseball in the background for me. That makes up for a hell of a lot.

What brings me joy: baseball.

What comforts me: baseball.

What settles my settles my troubled mind: baseball.

My meds preclude any consumption of ibuprofen or naproxen, so I’ve resorted to using Japanese pain patches on my aches and pains. They work pretty well, but I smell like a giant vat of Vicks VapoRub.

Oh, looky.

Yes, it’s early in the season. But let me revel in this.

The Padres social media staff is awfully good at tweaking the Cubs.

The Padres social media folks are having a great night; thanks for asking!

The epitome of speaking too soon on social media. Whoops.

Spoiled a perfectly fine Sunday afternoon by watching my team blow a lead/game/series. Going to try redeeming the day by playing with art supplies.

Fact.

You know what? This Gen Xer says good on you, millennial women.

Proud of you for aligning your priorities away from hustle culture. Life is so much more than climbing the corporate ladder, only to fall off the top rung and faceplant. (Emphasis below mine.)

For millennials and the younger generation Z and Alphas, who may never be able to afford to buy a home or retire at a reasonable age, there is a growing feeling online that hard work is fortifying a system that, at best, is giving them nothing back and, at worst, is actively screwing them over. And so the “soft life” revolution was born – where the priority is no longer about working yourself to the bone to be a #girlboss or “leaning in” to the corporate male world, as former Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg wrote, and pushing until you “have it all”. The goal of a softer life is more time and energy for what makes you happy and as little time as possible focusing on what doesn’t.

Given Buxton’s injury track record, I’m almost surprised the bratwurst didn’t mow him down.

Working in the wee hours because it’s much more soothing to edit when I’m not in danger of being pestered by phone calls or email. I can have an archived MLB.tv ballgame (in this case Tigers vs. Mets) on to keep me company. I’ll try to make up the sleep somehow, but I can work happier and more productively this way.

My Lenten observance wasn’t the most faith-filled this year. But I think I may have found an Easter message that made sense to me in what has become a season of grief-filled, election-year deconstruction for me. This, from Fr. Josh Whitfield:

So, wondering what to say to you this morning, I guess it’s this: Don’t be bad Catholics.

Now, before you storm off, give the office a call tomorrow, or tweet about it, let me explain myself. I’m not talking like a culture warrior here. I’m not immediately talking about morality or politics—although I wish more people would make an honest and intelligent examination of the Christian moral vision, and I do wish more people (equally left and right) would see through the false promises of politicians and quit worshipping those walking, talking golden calfs.

No, what I’m talking about is hope; hope despite everything. That, before anything else, is what makes you a good Catholic. I think of that line from that Wendell Berry poem: “Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.” That’s kind of what I mean.

McSweeney’s lists special features of Trump’s Bible. In Exodus, for example: “Moses descends Mount Sinai with the Second Amendment.”

Thank you, Threads algorithm, for this juxtaposition on my timeline.

My kid is a teenager and we still hide eggs in the yard for her to hunt. This year, she brought our leashed cat to help. Happy Easter to all who celebrate.

Not a fan of the Giants. #Caturday #MLB

Revamping my Insta account. Archiving family pix, keeping baking and pet photos, devoting any further posts to artwork (and baking and pets). Might change the account name/info if allowed. Might even make it public.

For me, IG has become a largely utilitarian site where I access content related to my creative and self-care interests; the account might as well reflect that.

It’s my kid’s Birthday Week (her actual birthday was Monday), as well as MLB Opening Week. For these reasons, I’m glad for this week.

Otherwise, I’m just not feeling the holiness.

I hope this doesn’t jinx things for my team.

Good to see this fediverse thing catching on over at Threads. Find me there if you feel like it at @garciabuxton@threads.net … I tend to be chattier there these days.

I flinch at posts that complain about engagement, but connections seem to be pretty minimal lately at my end of Threads. It’s probably me pulling back on commenting and responding as much; I just don’t have the energy to respond to what sometimes can feel like a 24/7 cocktail party.

Social media, like this blog, is mostly me shouting into the void, and I generally prefer it that way. But when the crickets seem loudest is when I feel like I need that interactivity the most.

It’s the North American pretzel cat. Impressed she could ball herself up like that.