Greetings mine

Mine

 

 

https://www.google.com/search?q=lilossoljr.sarah@blogger.com

 

 

 

 

 

hiya Mine


http://bit.ly/2ySX2qT

what happens to you after you write? not having given birth i know i'm speculating, but it's the closes thing that i can think of. you have something that is part of you, of you, literally coming out of you. the process of getting the words from you to the page is at times a struggle and other times they simply slip from you. and then they are something separate, an other. they are not yours anymore, not really. people read them and understand them in a different way than you may. when i come back to something i've written, especially something i've written for other people to read, i'm struck by this otherness of my writing. it feels so strange to read it and know that it came from me...

there is something about putting up your own food that i find very appealing...

i think i'd like to emigrate...

this evening we went to listen to a journalist/author who's been writing about the security megacomplex that's grown up since the events of 2001. by the end of the Q&A session, where the inevitable question of how to fix/change/do something was touched upon, my only thought was that government - perhaps even the country-  is too big to really be changed. and there's nothing any of us can do about it. it's one thing to argue that you should stay in your neighborhood or community and work for the good there rather than picking up and leaving when times get hard. there the scale is such that if you stay you have a good chance of seeing something come to fruition. but when you change that scale from a few hundred people to hundreds of millions of people, the chances of your work coming to something seem so small...

i've been feeling so weighted down by the sense of time's passage. my thought was that i was tired of being in the same place for more than a year or two. that i want a new job and new people and new surroundings - new different other-than-this. the repetition of week after week with no achievement or accomplishment, no undertaking complete, just another set of days crossed off the calendar and put behind me. i've never wanted to live like that. it seems so wasteful and empty. but perhaps what i am wanting is not be constantly moving on to the next thing, the new place. perhaps it really is to settle down and be in a place - to make it mine and myself it's. i'm tired of describing my life with the phrase "i don't know"...

peep

so i'm throwing people around again; course that means that i'm getting thrown around too. it's pretty good. perfection of character sought through physical manifestations.

i'm also trying to nourish my scribbling itch...how does one nourish an itch? i think i'd like to send in a something for the next omnibus...i have a month exactly to get something from the backwards regions of thoughts to concrete form... i wonder if i'll make it.

:D i smell like smoke.... good times... too bad i forgot the camera when i ran out of the house at 6.30 this morning.

"what is science without philosophy?"

i've wondered the same thing many times...

just watched Steam Boy by Katsuhiro Otomo. very good, thought provoking - with little resolution in what seems to be the Japanese fashion.

i remember sitting out on the balcony in college watching everyone inside talking and hanging out. i felt very much like Peter Pan listening to bedtime stories outside children's windows, wanting to share what they had, but knowing at some level that his choice of life prevented that from being possible. it wasn't that he regretted choosing as he did, but he could see the beauty of what the others had and felt sadness and loss at not being able to share it too.



that's how wandering around facebook makes me feel now...

wow over a year...

life...

blue sky fighting to
share the yellow sun's bright warmth
while wind and clouds prevail

lengthening days bear
the weight of increasing chill
with thought of the sun

the air smells of green and growing things - it's wonderful

+

Lawrence Silva DeRego
b. 9 April 1926
d. 13 January 2010

resquiat in pacem

i found this to be a lovely reflection on the Nativity and wanted to share it...



my thanks to the Institute of Catholic Culture for the excerpt

so how's this for holiday ridiculousness: i had to check three grocery stores before i found candied fruit! you know, the stuff you put in fruitcake...

store number one
me: do you know if you have candied fruit?
clerk: (blank look) ummm
me: you know, the stuff you put in fruitcake...
clerk: (brightening slightly) maybe check the baking department. (note: i'd already done this, but because of past experiences of asking for things that were right in front of my face, i went along with it) doesn't look like we have it here. i'll ask over in produce.
clerk 2: candied fruit? you mean something like this? (holds up container of dried fruit)
me: no, i'm looking for the stuff you put in fruitcake. it's covered in a syrupy stuff and comes in a clear plastic container.
clerk 2: oh, i know what you mean. if we have it, it would be over here. (leads way to displays of specially holiday stuffs) no, it doesn't look like we have it; if we had it, it would be out by now.
me: thanks anyway

store number two
me: do you know if you have candied fruit?
clerk: no we don't carry it.
me: thanks

store number three
me: do you know if you have candied fruit? the stuff you put in fruitcake?
clerk: oh, hmm. let me get someone from produce.
store pa: ---, please dial 521.

meanwhile i wander through produce and find a table tucked half way between produce and holiday baking with, lo and behold, candied fruit! and not just the basic mixed fruit i was looking for, but varieties of the gooey stuff. i was half tempted to pick up samples of all of them just so i could prove their existence. i contented myself with picking up one extra tub to save for next year. who knows where i'll be, or if i'll be able to find enough stores to check.

i want to make lovely things

just wanted to put that out there...

yesterday i wanted to share with you all that i'd seen a gent in shorts and sandals this morning walking his dog and point out that the temperature outside was a balmy 45*. at the time it seemed rather amusing, but has been rather preempted by today's weather: snow! great big fluffy clumps of it falling persistently out of the soft grey skies. it began around 10.30 this morning (it's now just about 3) and news of short trousered gents doesn't seem to measure up.

this morning at 10.30

this afternoon at around 2

such weather is rather condusive to indoor activities so i put together our advent wreath. we were traveling during the first Sunday of Advent and this is the first bit of free time that i've had since we got back. pictures of our Thanksgiving adventures are up here.


i think that it came out rather nicely. since i work through the supper hours we'll just have to say our Advent prayers after i get home...

somehow despite doing practically nothing until well after three in the afternoon (and we didn't even sleep in all that late this morning... might have had something to do with the hour and a half catch up phone call with younger sis...) i still managed to get two loads of laundry washed and dried - though not yet folded, my herb jars filled, a very good supper made, a batch of sourdough bread proofing (hehe more on that later), and breakfast for the morning soaking (bread pudding using saved loaves of french baguette from the market and cultured buttermilk bartered from the lovely mrs. lee - mmmm, yum). i feel almost accomplished... and there are still 40 mins of today left! :)

i think i'll cuddle up next to my dear husband and watch the rest of Charlie Rose's interview with Thomas Friedman. very very interesting stuff.

over the past week i've found myself lacking motivation in the mornings. i don't particularly want to do anything - even to the point of not eating... it's not that i'm particularly bluesy or down (though that happens too); i simply do not feel an urge to so this or that or the other thing. so i end up puttering around the house, half doing things - filling the water filler pitcher and then wandering off before i pour it into the kettle to make tea - beginning to sort laundry or clear off the kitchen table and stopping half way to wash up the dishes (those at least i can usually finish off...until i remember to eat something and make more dishes...).

i think it's because i don't have supper at home anymore. my new work schedule has me working closing shifts at the market so i'm there until at least 8pm most days a week. Geoffrey's home by 6-ish and, since he works 10hr days, i don't expect him to wait for me to eat ('sides which i usually eat while at work). before i started this job, my home life pretty much revolved around food: finding new recipes, getting what we needed from the store, making it in all of its various stages (basic cookery, fermenting, soaking, sprouting, baking) and most importantly, eating and sharing it with my husband. suppers weren't always fabulous (often we were both too tired to talk much), but they were important to me as a time to share with the man i love and rounded out and fulfilled all of the work and time that went into getting the food on the table. and now, since that time to eat together has been removed, the rest of the process doesn't seem as worthwhile. we did go and get a crock pot last week, so i can still have food prepared for my hard working man. but it somehow doesn't have the same appeal... granted i'm still getting used to this new schedule and figuring out how to fit home life around it, so this is likely to smooth out. but it is in a way surprising how much it's affecting me.

perhaps now that i've sat down and thought it out (i'd had inklings as to why this new arrangement was bothering me but hadn't quite worked it out) a bit more effort on my part to get on with the basics will supplement for my lack of motivation... so off with me to the grocery for milk.