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Day one of a new month and day one of a new season. Genesis. Spring. New beginnings, as opposed to old beginnings? Perhaps old beginnings belong to Autumn. I should know, approaching the Autumn of my life, as it were. Morbid! My favourite colours have changed, as a child it was red, later blue, then black (teenager!), then purple and lastly yellow. I am not sure I now have a favourite colour. I don't think I do. Natural shades in cacky '70s colours are quite in vogue in some circles. I don't mind a bit of old school brown orange.
I wonder does it hurt more to have earbuds pulled from your ears or pulled through holes in your earlobes. I know it can hurt a lot to accidentally and violently pull an ear bud out of your ear. The skin over the ear is very thin. It may hurt less to pull against your fleshy ear lobe. I am talking about poking the ear bud through a large hole in the earlobe so when you take them out of your ears they hang there neatly. Seems like a good idea, until you think of the accidental pulling out thing.
The right pair of shoes is hard to find, but once found they jump out at you and on the foot they look and feel a part of you. I have been shoe shopping many times walking in and out of shoe stores unable to settle on anything, and have gone home to ponder what type of shoe it is I really need. For me, that is a part of successful shopping, the need for shoes for a specific purpose. Once the purpose is settled, it is easy. It is also easier if the last pair is in the bin.
the slow movement, slow food, slow clothes. I like slow. it fits with my philosophy. I'd like to have a personal style. I have no idea what this style would be. Is it sporty? Romantic? Feminine? Decorative? Elegant? If I could commit to making my own clothes again I could wear whatever I want! Not be at the whim of fashion. I could dress for comfort. Find a style that fits, that looks good and that will stand the test of time. before it is too late and I, you know, fall off the perch, then it wouldn't matter anyway!
To fall into melancholy is a lonesome pursuit, a vacuum of the false happiness that can crowd everything else out; an absence of noise. Silence. A spell that can be broken sending the melancholic one way or the other. A longing or yearning for the past, or a remnant of the past appearing out of the blue in the here and now: a smell, a breeze across the skin. To be melancholy is to not feel the need to perform. To be alone in a crowd or alone. To just "be". A kind of meditation. Breathe deep, sigh, be free.
Two things recently made me cry. A dog came up to say hello and then walked beside me, just like my dog used to walk beside me. It was good to have that happen again. I didn't really cry, but felt a bit pensive. The other thing was a play where all the characters were seventeen years old and on the last day of school. They were played fabulously by actors in their seventies. One boy slept in the park and had no one, no family and no friends. It was very moving. The play was a comedy called "Seventeen".
The two went to a sock puppet making class and made two sock puppets - a slug and a reindeer. The class was popular, held in a pub. Noisy but fun. With puppets completed and only twenty four minutes before the next train home the two made a dash, arriving on the platform in only twenty minutes, a walk that at a normal walking pace would have taken half an hour or longer. At least one did not think they would make it. Once on the train, one promptly fell asleep and the other played Minecraft until the station before home.
The sun is rising earlier in the morning. Getting up early no longer seems quite so early. I am up and off to the airport with sunshine coming in the windows of the train, and the sun shining in at the windows of the airport. Flying to a cloudy and cold city I decide to walk to my hotel and on to work after catching the bus in to town. I do some shopping on the way. Leave work not too late to attend a workshop on solving cryptic crosswords at a cafe in the city. Home with new skills.
Not sure how I do it but I ordered a huge coffee this morning. I asked for "large" which was "massive". Asked to confirm, I confirmed the size for some reason, instead of asking for the next size down. I wanted to take my time anyway over some crosswords, to utilise my newly-learned cryptic crossword solving skills. An easy productive day. To the zine shop at lunch time and bought a batch of new zines of all sizes and configurations. Worked late just because then back to the hotel and watched Inspector Morse. Very funny after all these years.
I realised with today being 10th September that yesterday was 9th September, my mother's birthday. I always think of that on the day, but this year I did not. I wonder if she would have liked Inspector Morse. She died before it was made, which was a long time ago.
Home today, cab then plane then train. It will be a long evening. Three days off work then, to pack for. Check the car is OK, has petrol etc. I do not like to be too busy. I like a gap between things. This could not be helped.
No work today and I see the morning household activities I normally miss through being at work. I repack for today's trip. I drive to the servo and fill up the car. It's been so long I have to think about what side of the car the petrol cap is. Off to the railway station to pick up pals. Drive south to the holiday cottage, unload the car, choose a bedroom. Walk to the village for lunch at the pub. Back to the cottage to relax in the afternoon sun in the garden. I left lots of things at home.
Up pretty early after a good night's sleep in the comfy bed. Cup of tea, hang out in the garden for a bit doing cryptic crosswords. We walk into the village for a very late breakfast, then drive to a nearby town. I buy a very expensive piece of clothing. We tourist about and go food shopping. Pals cook dinner. I am so tired! We are all very quiet this evening. I didn't bring a book for some reason. The others read a lot but I am not sure I could concentrate anyway (too sleepy). I knit and watch TV.
We sleep in on the last morning at the cottage. We do not have to be out early! Make toast and coffee for breakfast. Sit about talking in the sun. Pack up and drive toward home and stop at a large town, buy some books and have lunch, again in the sun, with live music. Completely perchance my cousins walk by and we have a catch up. Freaky! Drive back home, unpack the bag, well, almost, will finish tomorrow. Reacquaint myself with the pets. Freeze if I try to think about work, but it is there I must go tomorrow.
Sweet relief at a problem solved. Solved by laying preparations and then waiting, by quiet methodical plotting and plodding. Tonight on the other hand the government also solved what they saw as a problem and deposed the prime minister. A lot of people were happy about that, myself included. Who knows what is ahead though, both "problems solved" may not turn out to be quite as solved as they appear. As for the government, it's the same old thing, different mouthpiece. Maybe. Probably. Sigh.
I mourn my freedom, my flexible young self, my assumption there will be life
The bluebird of happiness. Happiness is indeed a bluebird. Flitting by, sitting for a day and then off and away. What a difference a day makes. Twenty four hours. The sun and the showers (sorry, plagiarism, I think I have the words wrong anyway). Flowers not showers? That means it is about sad one day happy the next. What is happiness anyway. It's bloody hard to find. Everyone wants what they do not have. "It only matters if we let it" is good advice. Advice I did not take at the time. How to avoid letting it, that's the thing.
To lose a leg is nothing, if you still have two front legs, a tail, a head. Did you lose another leg, Lexi? That was careless of you. "We have run out of cat food." (A mean thing to say to your cat.) You can't have any milk. Milk is bad for cats. Oh, all right then, have a little bit. Do you want to go outside? Do you want to come inside? Are you looking for your enemies? ...perching at the window like that. Cats love scratching the new rug. I've said it before. Stack cats is a palindrome.
I saw a play tonight about a debauched character. If he were up to his antics today it simply would not be allowed. I enjoyed the play very much. It was presented as a comedy and there were plenty of laughs from me and from the rest of the audience. The comedy made the unsavory elements more palatable. It was a one-man show with some additional speaking by the tech operator. The actor read from the man's autobiography, springing out from behind the lectern from time to time to directly address the audience. This further diluted the shock value.
I want to be wise. I want to be tolerant. I want to be understanding. I want to think before I speak. I don't really want to be a weirdo. I don't want to say anything about a person that I would not say in front of them. I think I am progressing from the person I was to the person I would rather be. I think I have made vast progress in the past few years. I am still learning from my mistakes. I learn something with every new experience, sometimes it is to do it differently next time.
I ate some chocolates from Belgium. They are the nicest I have ever tasted, I am sure. I find cooking a bit of a challenge at the moment and so made spag bol for tea tonight. It wasn't too bad. We then ate some baby bell Gouda cheese all the way from Holland. Very nice indeed. That was followed by a cherry flan from Aldi heated up in the new oven - delicious! Lots of left overs because I couldn't be bothered cutting it in half and heated the whole thing. Accompanied by a cheap bottle of Wolf Blass Cabernet Merlot.
The three new hens are happily living in their hen house in my back yard. I feel very content and happy to have them in my life. They make lovely contented little noises. I made a little roofless extension to their run but one climbed out! I put her back in and removed the run extension for now. I will give them free range of the yard when they get used to me and their new home. Having hens is better than I thought it would be! I had already chosen names but may change them to suit the personalities.
Each blade of grass points skyward, separate yet together with the other blades in the field. Roots press downward into the soil drawing nourishment to feed the green leaves. The leaves are rough to the touch with tiny raspy hairs like a cat's tongue. Small creatures burrow and worm their way through the soil making their homes in the roots of the grasses. Drops of rain water sit like tiny worlds. The grass grows very long in Spring after rain. Bright green new shoots become brown in summer heat and the grass becomes sparse and stringy showing patches of earth.
How to stop bad habits. Firstly, it is so hard. It may be necessary to take a holiday from all other occupations in order to concentrate on what not to do. Habitual behaviour happens without you being aware, that's why they are called habits. I feel it is a pointless exercise trying to stop bad habits because as soon as you let your guard down they are here again. And, the older you get the harder it is to stop. Not sure why that is. In the end surely the habits will be there no matter what you do now.
Picking the nails, for example. It never ends. There is always a small piece of nail or skin sticking out which has to be picked. One thing leads to another and look, that piece is taken care of, but now there is another bit of nail sticking out. Snagging on stockings, etc. Sometimes a perfectly sound nail is attacked for no particular reason, sometimes an entire hand. Hands at rest are always searching, searching for bits to pick at. Seeing bitten nails is rare. I don't smoke. I am grateful for that. I'd never be able to give it up.
Shiny things: apple skins, rose petals, green leaves after rain, oil on water, lacquer, gold, diamonds. Shellac. Bright beetle wings, beady bird's eyes, egg yolk. Hair, feathers, fur. Bright ice and snow. Pine needles in the sun. Mother of pearl, pearl. Flat and dull: newsprint, egg shell, dirt, concrete, skin, wood, sand, money. Is there life on Mars. Mars is dull looking but with possibly shiny water which made streaks on rocks. The streaks I understand grew in length which indicates they have moved (grown). Not much on Mars at all compared to Earth which is in the Goldilocks zone.
He opened the door to find her standing there, crying. He hesitated, startled. Who are you? He said. Are you OK? He quickly looked around but she seemed to be alone. Is there anyone with you? She shook her head, No. Can you tell me, what are you doing here? He took her arm and guided her to a kitchen chair - here, sit down. Would you like something to drink... a glass of water?
He listened to her story as the afternoon sun completed its journey across the room, and her face fell into shadow. Let me begin...
He opened the door to find her standing there, crying. Who are you? he said, startled. He stepped inside the room and quickly looked around - is there anyone else with you? She shook her head, No. He moved from foot to foot, unsure what to do before taking her arm and steering her toward a kitchen chair. Look, sit down and tell me why you are here. Can I get you a glass of water?
As the afternoon sun made its way across the room she told her story, as her face fell into shadow. Let me begin...
Was it a knock that had woken her? She sat bolt upright in the darkness, still wearing the clothes she had dressed in the day before. She felt cold as a shaft of light flashed across the floor. She heard a gentle click as the front door closed and all was again in darkness.
A cheery whistle sounded as a light switch flicked on and a voice rang out "anyone home?"
She recognised the voice of her best friend. It was not safe to let anyone know she is here. She sidled toward the back door.
She stood out from the crowd because she only had three legs. She had been in an altercation with a car and had to have the injured leg amputated. She had difficulty standing still and also sauntering, so she mostly ran and then flopped to the floor. She also fought this way, running, flopping and striking with a front paw. She was also a beautiful cat with long fur and beautiful green eyes. Other cats are not sure what she is, with her odd body language. They give her a wide berth and she chases them to swat their noses.
As the dream faded, she chased it, forlorn. She had always wanted to get married and have children. She assumed it was her birthright. She tried everything to meet her Mr Right. All her friends were married. She was the only one left. Her friends tried to assure her that it wasn't her, and that she would meet someone, to give it time. They made her god mother to their children. After a time to talk about it became awkward and they avoided the issue. She became the favourite aunty. She had not given up. She still held a candle.
There was a strange wailing sound coming from the next room. He looked over to the door and did not know if he should open it or lock it. The wailing continued as he walked to the door and placed his hand on the handle. He pushed the handle down and held his breath as the wailing stopped. He let go the handle and the wailing rose up again. He tried this several more times and then in one swift movement pushed the handle down, pushed the door open and went into the room. A small dog wagged its tail.
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