Category: The General

Some Keep the Sabbath going to Church — (236)

Bubbling_Bob_the_Bobolink

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
I keep it, staying at Home –
With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
And an Orchard, for a Dome –
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Generally Speaking

 

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I find it fascinating that people often have all the same stuff to get rid of.

Empty coffee carafes abound at garage sales, as do toaster ovens, ugly and now obsolete “stereo units” that used to house square monolithic televisions, hairless, dismembered Barbies (‘Amputee Barbie’ never caught on, did it?) strings of Christmas lights we all kept re-buying, board games no one played,  exercise bikes that people vowed to use as they watched TV (and obviously didn’t), boxed sets of dvds that were purchased so we could enjoy ‘Friends’ over and over and every Disney digitally remastered versions we were obliged to buy (first on VHS and then again on dvd).

What is going on?

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Skunk-A-Rama!

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Today I got up especially early, almost dawn, poured myself a cup of steaming coffee and went outside to do some serious gardening; just picking up sticks and clearing away leaves and winter debris, (what my British father used to call “pottering”) but it’s very meditative, mind clearing, solitary work.

And I look forward to doing it.

I’ve never had good luck with Columbine planting although I try each year (I especially love the deep black ones and in this regard, my good friend Jinny is my dealer, since each spring she cheerfully provides me with a few more, judgement-free,  from her own pristine garden).

I’m also not the most skilled at remembering exactly where I planted them either but last year I made a special effort to make a Columbine ‘grove’ near my back deck which would be hard to miss.

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Time’s Actually Not on my Side

 

 

It’s nearly the middle of April and I am desperate, desperate for spring. I pace around the house looking at projects I want to get going on, corners I would like to scrub out with a toothbrush (yes, it’s come to this!) and the Pantry-of-Shame which is overflowing with partially full boxes of crackers, raisins from seven years ago and an unattractive waterfall of plastic bags. Every time I open the door I am ashamed and antsy to tackle it but when the weekend unfurls and time presents itself, I become strangely busy with other things and cannot bear the thought of committing an entire day to those little screws of paper with three pieces of macaroni in each one, gack …

I’m also watching the same pattern of promising myself, really hard, oath-taking promises here to do something (exercise; eat better; clean out the effing pantry) and then I watch myself not following-up.

This is not like me to procrastinate like this (or, is it) and I’ve become extremely frustrated with myself.

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Stormy Weather

 

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I hate it when people blame the weather for feeling down. If you have ever lived in the UK you quickly realize that if you are not going to go out till it stops raining/blowing/raining you are basically not going out for a very, very long time.

Say, your next birthday.

That said, it’s very disappointing to go away somewhere warm as a smug strategy for hurrying spring along only to find that it’s not only still snowing upon your return but there are gusts of wind that are shaking the house till it moans like an old clipper ship.

I always imagine those antique maps with that chubby cloud dude with the big cheeks in the corner, cupping his hands and blowing as hard as he can; but this is just my own meteorological whimsy to mask the terror within.

I just paid for that roof …

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