Wednesday, January 24, 2007


If this were a craft blog (hysterical laughter from those who know me) there would be pictures of various projects: the sock knitting which keeps me focused on the small accomplishments, the weaving which has been put away for over a year, the baking/sewing/other "real" work avoidance lovelinesses - all would be chronicled in photos.

I love photos, I simply haven't "done" them. I am the person who went to France and Italy for 3 months and didn't take a camera. I ended up buying several disposables including one from Kodak which was faulty and which left most of 2 weeks in Provence hidden in its perfidious blackness. Hmmmm - does that last sentence make me seem even more illogical than usual?? I mean: Don't take a camera and then grump because the ones purchased there don't work. Does that sound logical to you??? Once again, I digress. (There is a reason for that term "random/abstract" in this family.) When I do take pictures, they are often quite good and I am pleased to see them when they come back from the developer. I simply don't think of a camera as the first thing to put into my bag.

The first thing is my journal. I have been writing to capture images/ideas on and off since I learned how to print but "regular" recording my life in coilback books is a relatively recent activity. "Recent" = the last dozen years or so. As with most of my enthusiasms, there are great bursts of activity followed by extended periods of fallow. The current journal has become ongoing letters to Himself. A lot of howling as you might imagine as well as News, Weather, and Sports It's almost as if I need to tell him things about our lives that I think he will want to know

wherever he is

I write in longhand with a fountain pen. The words that come out are very different from the ones that show up here in this typed writing. These words, I sometimes want to re-read; those ones, I'm not sure I ever want to see again but for one thing: I have learned that if you aren't the lucky one who gets out of here first, you will be left as we have been: shocked, shattered and grief-struck. Maybe then, when I see your eyes, I will re-read those letters and find something helpful, some small light to shine in your dark.

In the meantime, I am taking delight from these things: Two enormous bunches of daffodils - King Alfs by the looks - bought on Sunday and which, because I keep the house so cold, are opening slowly and beautifully in Gillian Paynter's (sorry, no link) vases. They look like wild jonquilles growing out of the kitchen counter. The outside temperature is up, the ice in the driveway is melting. Car friends asked thoughtfully and made me laugh on Saturday. I ranted about justice and was listened to on Sunday. A car saleswoman called me back with details and negotiations unlike the carsalesman who doesn't even know my name despite two test drives of the same vehicle. There are more RenoMen in the house: HVac today, TileMan tomorrow. The Paperwhite Narcissi are 15 cm tall and the lawyer's office has just called to re-schedule so I now have an extra couple of hours for more clearing of the decks both inside and out. And a walk - the lappage of our circle has been halted by the ice and my ability to imagine myself with a broken appendage and all the unhelpfulness that would entail. 13 laps done/187 to go before All Fools' Day.

Still breathing.


Anonymous Beth in WI said...

Off topic: could you e-mail me at wicrafter at charter dot net? I'd like to interview you for a magazine article. If you're game I'll reply with the details. Thanks!

8:58 p.m.  

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