Small, Purple Pail List

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Anybody? That particular utterance has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but sometimes you just have to go with the random and often unstable thought processes that explode in your brain during the writing of blog posts to hit blog post gold.  I've never actually encountered any blog post gold on these here e-pages, but there's always a first time. 

Now, who puts things in buckets?  Like, who has a bucket list?  I don't.  Bucket lists are all the rage though - or fully sick, as Shakespeare no doubt would have phrased it - so I'm going to do one.  Bucket lists used to be called fun goals, but apparently that was too boring a title for a movie blockbuster, so they decided to go with a plastic household object that is used mainly to carry mops or sometimes other things. 

I'm sure other people have other purposes for buckets but I don't know what they are.  I'm not a bucketologist.  Plus I hate to meddle in things that are none of my business.  Actually I do like to do that a fair bit, but I don't really care about the daily vicissitudes of buckets.

I've never been much of a goal settee.  I feel like if I put lots of lofty, impossible but fun and aspirational-type things into a metal-handled plastic container then my life from here on will just be full of big mobs of disappointment.  So I'm writing a small purple pail list; it's like a bucket list but a pail is heaps smaller than a bucket, thus more achievable.  Plus it's purple, which happens to be my fave colour, so there's that.  Makes sense, no? 


For example, climbing Mount Everest turns into climbing my local Mount Taylor, which I've done about five billion times, so I can tick that one off.  How would one ever climb Mount Everest?  What do I look like, a friggin' sherpa?  Bear Grylls barely did it and he is basically a wild animal. 

Looking for more things as we speak to put into my purple container.



A pouting yellow bucket.
You work it, girlfriend.