The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. ~May Sarton
Good mid morning...it gets to be about this time before my brain kicks in although I'm up at dawn with thoughts only- of getting the fire going. It may be 6 degrees outside, with a stiff wind blowing- but I am in here- safe and warm- so I will write a bit apologetically- of January.
Flurries and bitter cold for today. In Maine they don't actually call it flurries, they call it showers and that is an apt description. The way the wind blows and the snows come- seems to me a plaid design...coming from all directions and often ugly when taken to the extreme. My mind works in mysterious ways- I can't say for sure why I'd attribute something as unnatural as plaid to weather related circumstances- but I do.
Do you, dear reader- often wonder why you think the way you do or how is it that you pick up something familiar and add some kind of twisted symbolism to it? Again, please forgive- it is January and what else is one to do but clear out the cobwebs in the old brain? Yes, there's that as well as Clean up the desk and organize the clutter.
That is my goal today.
I have gotten awfully good at not keeping anything worth throwing out so the clutter is actually of use...but not in it's current state. Piles here and there, a bulletin board over the desk displaying many good intentions with thumbtacks to emphasize and hold some direction I had intended to go in- in place.
I seem to be getting better all around, meaning- blood pressure, pretty good. Goals- at best like little candle flames at the end of the tunnel, still flickering. Seed orders, progressing. Writing, writingwriting...aaargh. It's hurts my heart and my head- to bring out the gook. This blog of many colors has taken a back seat to the writing I won't share until it is bound and delivered or simply gone through and bundled for kindling. Therapy for me in season- writing in the winter, farming in the summer. Both begin with seeds, some take root- some go to more seed, some take years and years to produce a crop...and many never germinate.
(I can't help but think that the John Wayne calendar just aside the bulletin board is inspiring me to be ever more qualified in writing about the lessons I've earned...my Em gave it to me as a gift and I do so love the Duke. I enjoy his movies but more importantly to me- Mr. Wayne has always had a special place in my heart. Maybe it was his walk, his talk but most probably- he wasn't a fearful man in a role or as a participant in life to my way of thinking and recalling.
I remember being the only girl in third grade who diligently tried and did walk like the Duke and was frequently made fun of because of my gritty, hitching stride- but I just figured some day, they'd get theirs...and I would keep walking as I please because that surely was the thing to do, per John Wayne's lessons to me.)
Well, that's the post today~
Rather wide and far reaching, deep and uneventful- January.Take care-