There is so much but so very little. When your whole life has become one big exercise in procrastination the little bits of procrastination that used to be so relieving sort of drag on you. Hence the spate of unblogging. And you would thing that simply not posting is really something neutral except that I would think things to write, even start to write them…and walk away consigning them to never-never land. For words this is not a happy place of eternal childhood nor is it like limbo. It’s the slow eating deathof beyond apathy sadness. Poor words. I wish that I had cared more…kind of.
So I am coming and going and never quite slowing, the bodies starting to wear and clothing to tear and someday soon I will crawl home again. Or I will run out of places. This is more like it. My plans end after Christmas. Normally these black holes of future bother me but I’m so mellowed and road bumped by the past, oh, six months, that nothing just might be a 4 dimensional place where I can visit for a while and then continue passing through. I still want a puppy. Eventually I will learn how to sit still. Promise. Then I can get the puppy and teach him the same. I want a dog that can do the cool flip the bone off the nose and catch it trick. I tried it with Spanky but it never worked. Iguanas and hermit crabs are nice but they are a little too endothermic to take hiking with you. It will eventually need to be a dog.
So while I’ve been running helter skelter and inadvertently refusing to stay in my house for more time than I spend elsewhere I’ve settled in a little sea-side town in MA where I can cook amazing things and bake nothing. That’s not entirely true because I have baked masterpieces. The problem is that I have to hire out mercenaries to track down things like flour. There is no flour in this house. (Nor are their flowers in this house but that seems like less of a staple.) So baking takes place in stages in several places with borrowed equipment. I forgot how much I enjoyed cooking for me and not worrying about others tastes and letting experimentation rule in the kitchen. It doesn’t ever seem to work this way at home. I have a great idea. How about post-christmas when I am destinationless you invite me over. Fill your kitchen with pre-foodstuffs and I will cook for you. In a few days I will wander elsewhere to others with well stocked kitchens and in such a way I won’t really have to settle. I can car train my wee pooch as I go. Sounds amazing. Lets do it.
(eventually I will poem again. Stagnation is the rule right now)
I slip over the black in expert-tied boots chasing Daddy's red shirt into the darkness and see a whole new world.
4 comments:
Have the same prob with blogging. All the words that get mental noted through the day are disappeared when it comes time to write them.
Same with poems. If I were allowed to, as opposed to able to, slow down for a while I would be quite capable of quietness and rhyming lines. I like, in fact I seek, stillness, introspection and pondering. My, how I love a good pondering. But then, whereas you are at the early stages, I am in the advanced stages of mellowness. It is where I will come to rest absent any outside stimulus. And my road bumps, as you call them, long ago settled into one long, familiar bruise that neither comforts me nor warrants apologies.
I thoroughly enjoyed your post today. (Yes, Virginia, everybody needs a dog.) I had simply decided that your road had taken you somewhere that you liked to be, although truthfully, I had never even taken baking into consderation. I supposed that you would be back. Eventually. Or not.
Pasta la Vistas, sister.
My dear you are welcome to wander down to my kitchen anytime you wish as long as you don't mind sleeping on a futon in a tiny apartment. A benefit of wandering this way is that there are at least three more kitchens you could invade after you leave mine.
BTW: the dog is more than welcome, well as long as it doesn't eat cats. It can nibble a bit, just can't completly devour them.
Your Loving Niece,
M
I was happy with the arrangement and I'm glad you were too.
you're cool girl, you're cool. take a sip, relax. climb a rock. bestill your mind. try to remember what was the last time you were really "on a roll" and really enjoyed it. that would be a good point to come to. also come to Bow st Beverly and hang out, that would be a good point to come to.
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