Wednesday, October 27, 2021
Geoff brought home a very large... thing. Is it a cart? I guess it's a cart. It can tip, like a dump truck and it's very sturdy. We are moving things. All the stuff and things, and whatsits, of which we have many. One thing the cart will do nicely is haul hay and feed from the van down to the chicken run. And another thing the cart can do nicely is give rides. Geoff treats me to little loops around the driveway. I can't explain how this is fun, considering we have cars, and bicycles. But there is something appealing about sitting in an oversized wagon, and slowly riding loops around the yard. It makes me contemplate solar batteries, motors, and cruising to the end of the street. I try to think of a good excuse for pursuing this whim. I should probably add brakes to my daydreams. Grace didn't think it was worth bothering with and in a flash she leapt out, looking like a tiny reindeer at take-off.
I recorded the goats running around, while Geoff gave me what I affectionately call a hay ride. Then, I did a quick edit, added music, and posted a Reel. I didn't think it was my best work, but the Algorithm sure liked it. It's had 8,786 views. That is far far far more views than any other Reel I've posted. I don't know why. If anything, I think it proves that algorithms, and social media are remarkably random, arbitrary. Either that, or I should produce more content including Geoff's backside. His legs are going viral! I've always appreciated them.
Well. No one actually asked for pictures from my visit to Ikea. I mentioned the excursion in the side bar... Chirp-Chirp-Chirp. I talked about being enthralled by the shiny new things, and how I appreciate visual references, something I hope will help me achieve good taste, make mindful choices, strive for order and other noble goodnesses. No one asked for pictures, but I am going to post them, anyway. I need the reminders, and I need an excuse to sit here, alone, in a quiet room, because my neck is locked, and I am feeling a twinge of self-pity and hopelessness... is there another word for hopelessness, that is not quite so without hope? Maybe I am only hope challenged, or hope deficient. Or. Perhaps, even something as simple as recognizing pretty scenes, appreciating order, calm, organization, inspiration... these I believe are an indication of hope. Wanting to enjoy inpsiration and beauty, it seems to me is a promising sign, a worthy pursuit. Last night I wrote this post in an entirely different mindset, headed a whole other direction. I made some valid points, and it may have been enough to express those ideas, without sharing them, to reap some benefit... like clairty, relief, but I am glad I slept on it. As much as I am struggling, I desire to feel relief, to enjoy those moments of clairty, to nurture, even the smallest signs of hope.
Oh, joy! My neck just popped, and opened up a little ways!
Has anyone noticed my crush on green? I post a lot about the blues, the Arrowhead Lake Blues. But green has been near and dear to my heart, too, and I am going with it. And it slips in and out of my radar, but I doubly love blues and greens, together! I say this, staring at my green and blue teacup. I think of the quilts I have pieced and sewn, the shawls I have crocheted. Oh, it is for certain. I love the blues and greens.
I've been to Ikea twice, now, and both times I wanted to cook in this kitchen. Geoff joined me the second visit, and he declared that this is the kitchen we should build (you know, if we were building a kitchen.) I like his certainty, his go big mindset! My mistake, or limitation is seeing this space and thinking, what can I take, reasonably, and use to achieve the happy way I feel in this room? My approach is not big enough! I'd come home with a chalk board and tea towels, and imagine that I am going to achieve a clean, uplifting, organized, refreshed kitchen, just because I have the same apron.
Funny thing... now I have these pictures, and have taken some time to really gaze at them, and I find the bright white counters a little too stark and glaring, especially contrasted with the deep green... almost like a gash, a paved highway through the forest. Already, I sense that I would liven this up with more colors, and mess (let's be honest, please.) And. About that word, "mess," maybe I want a kinder word, a word that hints at the "mess," but in a gentle fashion, with an appreciation for the sources of our messes... cooking, playing, eating, rushing through the house before heading out the door, distraction, interaction, chasing goats, chatting with friends, living. Not all of our messes are damnable, some are profoundly good. I love that sink. And the open shelving (even though I can't imagine it would leave us with nearly enough storage, and then I think of dust, and cringe.) Okay, but I do love the apron, and the hooks on the wall, and the softness of pine accessories against deep forest green walls.
All right. So, I took a lot of pictures, and in each instance I was seeing something appealing, something to strive for. Let's see if I can distill what I desire, admire.
I dunno. I think this just reminds me that I miss the Redwoods, and entertaining. I think it reminds me that I like spaces that exist indoors and outdoors, simultaneously. Also, that I am deeply thankful that I can enjoy the outdoors inside, without buying plastic plants.
Very good. A little self-analysis, a little consumer appreciation, with a measure of realism, a pinch of objectivity. This has been almost cathartic. My take away points... 1. More purging 2. Be bold 3. Make lists, and use those lists for organization, to keep track of what's coming, what's going, and to define time and space, and help me to keep a hopeful course. 4. Settle on a course, or two, and don't mind so much if things wobble or stray... goals are good.