Tag Archives: november

Stingy ink pens

A few notes on exhaustion and restlessness.

Life is too short to:

  • Write with stingy ink pens,
  • Spend your days inside,
  • Fail to do the one or two things that you know make you feel better.

Okay. I’ve tossed out a suck job bic medium point. I’ve walked the dog twice. But the third item above? Let’s talk Daily Pages and keeping up with friends (both here and in the neighborhood).

What’s with all the blank Daily Pages? Day after day, blank. Does it mean anything? There was a time when I would ask that as if there might be something worth knowing about my resistance. Not now. Nope. Just resume!

Same for friends. Tonight is a birthday celebration. We’re going downtown! We’re going to a restaurant that Roxane Gay recently dined at and no, I’m not a stalker, I just read her twitter feed.

So, it’s cold again. Winter cold. The scarves and gloves have been unearthed from the bins in the basement. I may have to make a polar fleece apron for the long down coat of mine because it won’t snap all the way closed (ugh!) While out today, it took a FULL MILE for my head to clear.

Note to self: A walk less than a mile is like a stingy ink pen.

And now for a Not Apology.

When considering a wash of discontent or sleeplessness, there is always the news to blame. But! The news right now is historic, dismaying, compelling, detailed, alarming, and evidencing the highest national stakes since the Civil War. I make no apology for being riveted. Whether I would be happier or more calm or sleep better with less information is not something I care to spend time considering.

As for what ELSE might be making me a little tired? How about — being an adult. K and I are considering end-of-life directives, long term health insurance, retirement funding, and how to sensibly pass assets down to the boys. The bottom line is so much better than I thought, so there’s that! Because the picture is better than I thought, mostly these considerations provoke relief, but not entirely, for obvious reasons.

And then off I went to writing class. Having two classes a week is nice — one to teach, one to attend. I’m noticing how different one is from the other and enjoying the differences.

 

 

 

November clouds and sounds

window-shadowMist this morning. Rhythms shift as the days diminish. Some things stay steady or grab ahold. Others seem to fall away. I don’t quite feel in control.

Frustrations — the ongoing irritation of yard crews buzzing, seemingly, through my skull — sometimes four a day, sometimes the trucks blocking my road. An expensive ‘upgrade’ with Verizon that not only DID NOT increase our speed, but created the lovely new quirk of dumping our devices off-line even when sitting within several feet of the (brand-new ‘upgraded’) router. The prospect of switching providers is on the horizon. While it will be good to do something about deficient service (especially when that ‘something’ might include two years of free HBO — a real prospect to a 57-year old who has NEVER had cable), it is nevertheless the case that switching a decades-old email address can only feel like a nightmare in-the-making. Ya know? And I hate how even the ‘easy stuff’ never is — fellow oldsters know what I mean! — how you get that four step list and the first three super-simple steps do not take you to the tabs or settings they say they will and you have to walk away or start over, all the while assuming there is something seriously wrong with your brain?!
clouds-wires-horizon-deemallonAnd then there’s WordPress, which misbehaves regularly. This week? Random new default settings for picture justification and the lovely (revisiting) trick of rearranging the placement of a photo if I add a caption after insertion. That neither of these things were happening last week and that neither seems amenable to my attempts to correct just add to their power to annoy the crap out of me.

I’m not done yet — every other picture I shoot on my phone produces the “NO SPACE” message, even though I only keep about 250 AND I keep deleting apps AND I have very little music there. Since recently discovering the DianaPhoto app, it suddenly matters to me, meaning that what was an inconvenience two weeks ago, feels like a creative constraint today.

The PC where I type now presents its ongoing inefficiencies with photo tweaking and storage (my friend the Blue Spinning Donut). Any rearrangement of pix (say to a separate hard-drive) risks losing the trails and producing a gallery of question marks (it’s happened!). I actually feel sick thinking about all of this.

All fixable problems, of course, but not without outlays of cash for expert intervention or, in the case of the phone, massively upgraded monthly service. OK, I’ll learn about the cloud. OK!! OK!! I’ll go talk to one of the fucking geniuses at the mall.

But more money? No and no.

No wonder this little girl cheers me so!! She’s immune to these maddening issues. Completely Old World (which, let’s face it, might be 1991). She doesn’t even care that the hem of her pink silk skirt is ripped.
felt-mouse-christmas-deemallon-pinkShe sports her imperfections with elan! She eagerly greets every morning! All she needs for a happy day is someone to share her seasonal gifts with. Today, she’s my role model.
felt-mouse-deemallon-christmas

IMG_6280I think when I get back from Salem today, I’ll have a nice long chat with her.

Maybe her name will come to me on the drive North.

For now, let me beg forgiveness for the complaining (and by the way, for those of you who know me better, you know this is NOT a rant… more like a Report of Defeat).

Let me also apologize for the possible incoherence. I am typing to Alison Krauss (followed by Amy Winehouse) played a little too loud. This, to obscure the sound of two trucks somewhere nearby that seem to have nothing to do but BACK UP.

Beep beep beep beeep beeeep beeep. And now the street sweeper. Oh god, this is making traffic on 128 actually look appealing!

Longer Nights

How nice to go to sleep by 10:00 and wake at 5:30 a.m., refreshed.
How nice to whip up a batch of potato leek soup that is comforting, delicious and contains not an ounce of cream.
How nice to have a pile of new socks to choose from in the morning.
How nice to be invited elsewhere for Thanksgiving.
How wonderful to have enough inventory for December sales to not be scrambling.
Look at the 11 bins of leaves on the curb that I did nothing to produce!
Listen to the sounds of a quiet morning — the hum of this machine, the deeper hum of the dishwasher, and nothing else.  Ahhhhhhhhh.